Fourteen Days

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/34429072.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Characters: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny
Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom
Additional Tags: Adventure & Romance, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe, World Travel, Eventual Smut,
Friends to Lovers, Post-War, POV Hermione Granger, POV Harry Potter, Angst with a
Happy Ending, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue |
EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant, Auror Harry Potter, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings,
Hermione Granger is So Done, Harry Potter Meets James Potter and Lily Evans Potter, Boy-
Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Infidelity,
Tearjerker, No Ron Weasley Bashing, No Ginny Weasley Bashing, Illustrations, Fake/Pretend
Relationship
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Fourteen Days Universe
Collections: hp stories, Harry and Hermione Fics to save!, Harmony Must Read Completed Stories,
Immediate fave omg, Harmony & Co Prompt Bank Fills, HP best stories, Behind those

TimeTravel_AU_Hermione, The Best of Hermione, THE 🎵 UBIQ 🦋

emerald eyes, Sheer Perfection says Mary Berry, The Literary Treasury,

🌹 ☠ THE 🎭 UNIQUE
, Vivvy’s hp must reads, My faves, i suffer in eternity knowing these are better than canon,
Hermione fics that make my chest hurt, Completed HP Gold
Stats: Published: 2021-10-11 Completed: 2021-12-18 Words: 241,500 Chapters: 34/34
 Fourteen Days
by alexandra_emerson

Summary

**I’m not posting any new HHr fics thanks to toxic spaces like HMS Harmony that permit the persistent bashing
of authors**

During her work in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione discovers an alternate universe where Neville was the
Boy Who Lived, not Harry. Where James and Lily are alive and where Harry and Hermione aren’t about to marry
Weasleys, but each other.

They impersonate the other Harry and Hermione and join Harry’s parents on a trip to visit the Seven Wonders of
the Magical World. It was only supposed to be two weeks. Fourteen days to get to know his parents. It became a
journey of self-discovery. One they weren’t ready for.

Translation into Українська available: Чотирнадцять днів | Fourteen Days by Ibuprofenix

 Prologue
Chapter Notes

Portuguese Translation: https://www.wattpad.com/story/293711996-fourteen-days-harry-e-hermione

Spanish Translation: Wattpad link

https://www.wattpad.com/story/315110542 or https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14102678/0

See the end of the chapter for more notes

August 2001

Harry was working late, trying to finish up a case report before going home. He'd be at stake out for the next two
days and wouldn't be back in the office until next week. He dropped his head in his hand and pinched the bridge
of his nose, under his glasses. He hated case reports.
Fifteen minutes later, he was putting the finishing touches on it when Hermione ran to his desk. "Harry! Thank
God you're still here!"

"Hermione? What's wrong?" He stood and pulled his wand out of his robes as he checked the area behind her,
fearing she was being chased. But when his eyes moved back to her, she was smiling.

"Nothing's wrong. I just need to show you something."

"What?"

"I need to show you, not tell you. Come on."

"Hermione, I really need to—"

Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the lift. "Harry, this is important and a little time sensitive.
Now, come on!"

"Okay, okay." Harry looked back at his desk and shrugged. He could hand the report over to Robards in the
morning, before he left for the stake-out. He turned back to the lift and saw Hermione had run ahead of him and
was waving him over.

"I know you can run faster than that," she scolded as he walked quickly toward her.

"Is it necessary to run?" he asked as she jammed the button for the lift.

"Yes."

Once they were inside the lift, Hermione was so overcome with anticipation, she was bouncing in place. She
should take time to tell Harry what was going on, but she didn't have the time. She'd just learned that time passed
in the other world at the same rate it passed here and if they were going to make dinner—

"Hermione, you're sort of scaring me," he said, cutting into her thoughts.

She waved him away. "Don't be scared. Trust me on this."

"Where are we going? At least tell me that."

"The Department of Mysteries." Then after that, she thought, but didn't say, as she thought it would sound too
dramatic, somewhere you'd never imagined possible, not even in your wildest dreams.

"What? I can't get in there. Not without authorization from Kingsley."

"That's not technically true," she said as she shifted from one foot to the other. She turned back to Harry and
stopped bouncing for a second, then said with extreme seriousness, "When we get there in a few moments, I'm
going to ask you to do something very uncomfortable. Just go along with it and trust me, okay?"

Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "I need you to tell me what's going on."

Before Hermione could respond, the door to the lift finally opened as the voice inside said, "Department of
Mysteries."

"Let's go," Hermione said, grabbing his arm again and running down the hall. She stopped at the black door.
Harry's heart was pounding in his chest and it had nothing to do with the run down the hall. He hadn't been in
there since Fifth Year, when he'd made a blunder than put his friends in danger and led to Sirius's death.

"So sorry to rush this, Harry. But like I said, it's time sensitive."

Harry nodded. "Okay. How do I get in?"

It was common knowledge that only Unspeakables could get into the Department of Mysteries and even then,
they could only go to authorized areas. Lucius had only managed to get in by breaching the highest levels of the
Ministry to remove the enchantments.

Now, the wards on the door were stronger than ever and without having your name written in the Minster for
Magic's handwriting on a list kept securely in Kingsley's office, the room would recognize Harry as an intruder
and retaliate. Best case, he'd go mad, like Bode had in his Fifth Year when he'd tried to take a prophecy without
authorization. Worst case, his heart would stop. It worked differently on everyone.

Hermione took his wand out of his hand and pocketed it. Then she grabbed both his forearms tightly and said,
"Wrap your fingers around my arms and repeat after me."

"Why? What are you going to do?" he asked as he slowly wrapped his hands around her forearms.

"The enchantments on the door work by finding your magic and using it against you. I'm going to take your
magic, so they can't do that."

"You're going to – what?" Harry pulled his arms out of her grasp.

"Take your magic. Just temporarily. Once we're through, I'll give it back."

"How is that possible?" Harry had never heard of a spell like that. But trust an Unspeakable to know of it.

"We don't have time for this. I promise I'll give it back."

"Are you sure you'll be able to?"

"Yes. In the first ten to twenty minutes, the spell is still unstable and can be undone."

"After that…?"

"It could be permanent," she said simply. He opened his mouth to protest when Hermione said insistently, "Trust
me, Harry. I promise it'll be worth it."

"You're asking to take my magic."

"When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"What's worse," he asked quickly, "rubbery, unseasoned wild mushrooms or no food at all?"

Hermione smiled at the question he'd chosen to check her identity. "Trick question. Neither. The worst were those
orange berries, outside that town with all the cats, that had us retching for three days straight. It's me, Harry."

"I hate this," he grumbled as he grabbed her arms again.

"I know, now repeat after me, okay?"

"Fine."

"Hermione Jean Granger."

"Hermione Jean Granger," he repeated.

"You will be the vessel for my magic now."

Harry gulped before repeating the line. As he spoke, gold and silver ropes began spiraling their way up their
arms.

"I give it freely in the hopes that you will be a better steward than I."
"I give it freely in the hopes that you will be a better steward than I," he said grudgingly. The gold and silver
strings wrapped around their torsos.

"Go forth, twice as powerful as before."

When Harry repeated this line, the strings around them began to constrict. He felt like he was being squeezed by a
thousand snakes at once.

"Now, say this clearly, Harry," Hermione said, her voice strained. Harry could see pain in her eyes and wondered
if the ropes were squeezing her too. "Fortiores sumus simul quam nos sumus separati."

He repeated after her, trying to mimic her pronunciation as best he could, but he was struggling to breathe. Once
the last syllable was out, the pressure tightened and he let out a loud groan. Hermione held on, keeping him from
letting go of her. Harry felt like every molecule inside him was trying to escape the confines of his body at once.
Just when he thought he couldn't handle the pain anymore, it stopped and he dropped to the ground.

He heard Hermione collapse with a small grunt next to him, but didn't have the energy to check on her, or even
open his eyes to see if she was okay. After a few moments, he felt cold hands on his arms and back, pulling him
up to a sitting position. When he opened his eyes, Hermione said unnecessarily, "The spell hurts."

"No kidding," he groaned. "It may have been worth mentioning that."

"You were already apprehensive," Hermione replied as she helped him get to his feet. "You didn't need to know
about the pain, too."

Harry shook his head. He rarely saw this cold, ruthless, and alarmingly powerful side of Hermione. But she'd
need to be that way in her job, wouldn't she? Being an Unspeakable required even more nerve than being an
Auror. "What did that last line mean?" he asked as he watched her brush off her robes and turn to the door.

"We're stronger together than we are apart," she said as she opened the black door and walked through it. She held
her hand out to him. "Your turn."

Harry hesitated in the hall for a moment.

"I promise you'll be fine."

Harry took her hand and ran in. He patted his body once he was through the threshold and had reached the
familiar circular room that had black marble floors, black walls and ceiling, and was lined with black doors. He
tried his best to push away the memories from the last time he'd been in here and focused on examining his body.
His heart was working fine and he seemed to be thinking clearly. He took a deep breath and was relieved to find
his lungs working properly. He was okay. "It worked."

Hermione took his arm and marched to the third door on their right. "Of course it worked. Come on."

"Do I get my magic back now?"

"Once we get there."

Harry followed her as she ran through a series of rooms. He wondered how Hermione was keeping track of where
they were going as they seemed to be making their way through a maze. Then he wondered how often the rooms
changed, since none of them were the same as the ones he'd seen during his last visit. As they ran through
countless doors, Harry felt around for his magic. It really was gone and the empty feeling made him feel sick.

"Will it hurt again, when you give me my magic back?" he asked as they ran, hoping that thinking about getting
his magic back would take his mind off the disturbing feeling of having it gone.

"Sort of. Not as much, though."

"So, you've been through that before?"

"A few times," she said absently as she waved her wand over the next door in a complicated pattern.

"You are remarkable," Harry murmured, mostly to himself.

"Thanks," she said as she walked through the door she'd just unlocked. A few paces later, she stopped abruptly in
front of a large, arched doorway, holding her arm up to keep Harry from passing ahead of her. "Here we are."

Harry leaned forward so he could get a better look at the room on the other side of the doorway. Actually, "room,"
wasn't the right word. It was just a series of colorful shapes amidst a backdrop so black, it made Harry think that
every color black he'd seen up until this point had been a dull grey, in comparison.

The shapes were moving and twisting constantly into infinity. It was like a mixture between one of those
kaleidoscopes Dudley had had as a child and that effect when you put two mirrors in front of each other. He
leaned back since watching the shapes was giving him a headache.

"Okay, stand still. I'm going to give you your magic back," Hermione said, turning to face him as she raised her
wand.

"Do I need to grab your arms again?"

"Just one. And there's nothing for you to repeat this time. Just hold tight."

Harry closed his eyes and waited for that crushing pain again, but it was different this time. Now, instead of
feeling like he was being squeezed, he felt like he was being stretched, like the spell needed to expose all the gaps
in his cells as it put his magic back into them. It was more uncomfortable than painful and luckily, over quickly.

"There you go," Hermione announced. He opened his eyes and saw her holding his wand out for him.

Harry took it and cast a quick spell, relieved when it worked as expected.

"Okay, are you ready?" Hermione asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"Ready for what?"

She cocked her head toward the doorway with the shapes. "We're going in there."

"What's in there?"

"I told you before, it's too hard to explain. It's just something I need to show you."

"Okay." Harry had already trusted her this far. What was one more thing?

Hermione looked back through the doorway and bit her lip. That wasn't a good sign. She hadn't hesitated this
entire time, so what was making her nervous now? Harry was about to tell her they could turn around, if she
wanted, when she reached into her pocket and pulled out something Harry hadn't seen since the war.

"Is that Dumbledore's Deluminator?"

"Yes," she replied, flipping the top open with her thumb. "Ron's, technically." She placed one hand on the edge of
the archway, gripping so tightly, her knuckles were white. Then, she placed the hand holding the Deluminator
through the doorway. Harry grabbed the back of her robes, just in case. Several shapes nearby began to encircle
her arm, changing shapes and colors as they spun around her.

Hermione clicked the Deluminator and an orange ribbon appeared out the end, making its way through the shapes
on and on for what looked like eternity. Hermione turned her hand around the ribbon to catch it with her wrist
before pulling her hand, the Deluminator, and the ribbon out of the archway. She handed the ribbon to Harry.
"Hold this."

It felt like cold, liquid silk. He kept expecting it to run through his fingers and disappear, but it stayed in place
while Hermione returned the Deluminator to her pocket, then grabbed lower down on the ribbon and twisted it
around her wrist several times. She motioned for him to do the same.

"We need to hold this tightly," Hermione explained as she wrapped her second hand around the ribbon. "It'll be
our guide once we go in there. Other than holding on, though, you don't have to do anything."

Harry nodded when he had his hands around the ribbon, like she did. "Okay. I'm ready."

"Perfect. Now, we just step in. And, uh, you might want to close your eyes." She gave him a quick smile, before
turning to face the archway. "On three, okay? One, two, three!"

They both stepped in at the same time and instead of falling, like Harry expected, since it just looked like an
endless hole with pretty shapes, they floated up. He felt like he expected a leaf would when it was taken by a gust
of wind, swirling up and around, every which way, with no idea where it was going to land. He tightened his grip
on the ribbon and watched as it seemed to pull them through the shapes.

Seeing the shapes from this vantage point, moving all around him in endless patterns, was ten times more
disorienting than viewing them from the room they'd just left. He knew why Hermione had suggested he close his
eyes but the sight around him was so spectacular that he couldn't make himself look away.

Then, with absolutely no warning, he appeared in a room and crashed to the ground, like he'd been dropped from
the ceiling. He looked down at his hands and saw the ribbon was gone. As soon as the room stopped spinning
around him, he started retching violently.

He felt Hermione's hand on his back and she began vanishing the sick with her wand. She was clutching her chest
painfully, over her heart, as if trying to tear it out, but he couldn't speak to ask her what was wrong. Then,
suddenly, she sighed and dropped her hand as she continued to clean up after him. He tried to thank her but
couldn't stop vomiting. Once the entire contents of his stomach was out, he sat back on the ground and let out a
low groan. Hermione handed him a wet cloth and a glass of water. "You didn't close your eyes, did you?"

Harry shook his head carefully and took the water and cloth. He slowly looked around the room as he sipped the
water. They were in an ordinary looking flat and based on the shape of the wall sockets, it was in Britain
somewhere. All that for a nearby flat? Wouldn't Apparition have been easier?

When he looked back at Hermione, she was watching him intently. She reached forward and moved his hair off
his forehead, then beamed. "It worked," she whispered.

"What worked?"

Hermione stood up and held her hand out for him. Once he was standing, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a
door across the hall. She'd obviously been here before. She led him into a small washroom and placed him in
front of the mirror before pulling his hair up out of his face.

"Hermione, what—?" Harry froze. Bloody hell. He leaned forward and touched the spot where his scar normally
was. It was gone. "Where is it?"

Next, Harry noticed that his glasses were slightly different. Then, he noticed a scar on the top of his cheek he'd
never seen before. He looked down at the back of his hand where the scars from Umbridge's quill usually were.
There were still scars there, but they were different. He checked his arm for the scar Nagini had left behind when
she had bitten him at Godric's Hollow, but that was gone, too. There was a different one on the top of his arm
instead.

"Tell me what's going on, Hermione."

She opened her mouth to speak but just then, Harry noticed the tip of his wand pointing out of his pocket. He
grabbed it quickly and stared, horrified, at the foreign wand in his hand. "Where's my wand?" he asked as panic
began to rise in his chest.

"Back in our world."

"This isn't our world?"

Hermione put her hands on his arms and turned him so he was facing her. She took a deep breath. "No, Harry.
This isn't our world. This is a world where you weren't Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy who Lived, or the
Master of Death. This is a world where Voldemort decided the Prophecy applied to Neville and went to kill him
that Halloween night. In this world, Neville's parents died to save him and he survived. Dumbledore trained him,
instead of you, and Neville went on to hunt Horcruxes and ultimately defeat Voldemort."

"But that means…"

Hermione nodded.

"My parents are alive?" he breathed, worried if he voiced the question any louder, the words would stop being
true.

"They are," she said, squeezing his arms, "and we're going to dinner with them in—" she paused to look down at
her watch, "—ten minutes."

Harry was tearing through the flat, looking around wildly. Hermione was pretty sure she knew what he was
looking for, but left him alone. She knew he needed to process this on his own for a few minutes. He paused at
the bookshelf in the sitting room, touching his fingertips to the glass of the photo she'd suspected he was looking
for. She'd seen the photo the last time she was here. It was taken on the day she and Harry had graduated from
Hogwarts.

Harry was standing in the center, wearing graduation robes, while his parents stood on either side of him. Next to
the photo was another one taken on the same day with Harry and Hermione in the center, arms wrapped around
each other, and several Gryffindors around them, including Ron, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati.

Hermione watched Harry's eyes flash to that one before settling back on the photo with his parents. "They're
alive," he whispered.

Hermione walked to the other side of the room to join him. "Yeah. They are."

"Have you seen them?"

She shook her head.

"And where are we?" he asked, starting to pace the room again. "Is this my flat?"

"Yes it is, but—"

"How does it work?" He was patting his hands up and down his torso. "This isn't my body. And my wand is gone.
But I'm me, in my head, so where is the other Harry?"

Hermione cast a quick spell to stop Harry in his tracks. "Harry. I'm trying to explain, but you need to stop moving
around and listen."

He furrowed his brow, which was as much of a frown as the spell would allow him to do. She lifted the spell and
went to stand across from him. "Ready to listen?"

He waved for her to continue.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "You and I are currently in the other Harry and Hermione's bodies." As if
in response, the nasty scar on her stomach, that she'd discovered the first time she'd arrived in this world, thumped
with pain. She winced slightly before continuing. "While we're here, our consciousness replaces theirs but I don't
know where they go. I do know that when they return, they won't have any memory of the time we spent in their
bodies. I also know that when we return to our world, no time will have passed."
"Okay…" he said, frowning slightly as he thought through her explanation. "Why were you in such a rush to get
here?"

She motioned toward the clock on the wall. "I also figured out that time in this world passes at the same rate as
time in our world. And I read in Hermione's planner that we're going to dinner at your parents' house at 6:30pm. I
wanted to be sure we arrived in this world after work, when Harry and Hermione would be together at this flat,
but before they left for dinner. Hence the rush. But we got here at the perfect time. Also, they're leaving for a long
trip tomorrow, so this may be our last chance for a little while. Then, there's the question of whether or not the
portal between the two worlds will remain open for as long as my calculations suggest and—"

She cut off when she saw his eyes start to glaze over. That was enough technical talk for now. Harry nodded and
began pacing the room again, this time slower than before.

"I wanted you to have a chance to meet your parents, Harry, but we need to be careful. They have a history with
you and you, well, don't know them."

"Yeah," he muttered, still walking around the sitting room. He stopped to sigh and drop his head in his hand.

"Is this okay?" she asked. "We don't have to do this. We can go back if you—"

"No!" he said, snapping his head up to look at her. "I want to go. Obviously, I want to go. I want to meet them.
We can — we can make it work. Maybe, we'll say I fell off my broom recently and have been struggling with my
memory or something."

"Okay. That's not a bad lie, given your current job."

"What do you mean? I'm not an Auror?"

Harry stopped at the edge of the room and Hermione went to stand in front of him again. "No, Harry. You're not
an Auror. You actually work at a Quidditch shop and teach flying lessons. I'm not an Unspeakable, either. In this
world I'm pursuing my Potions Mastery and work in a Potions shop down the road from your shop."

"Oh, wow."

"There's more."

Hermione looked down at her hand where there was a simple, but large, engagement ring. Harry wondered what
job Ron had in this world, that helped him afford a ring twice the size of the one he'd given Hermione in their
world. As he thought of her different engagement ring, he remembered his different wand. Did Neville have the
phoenix wand in this world? The thought made his heart ache.

"Harry, um, our lives are really different in this world." She looked back up at him and Harry could tell she didn't
want to say the next thing.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone gentle. "You can tell me."

"We're engaged."

"Okay… How is that different? We're engaged in our world."

She closed her eyes. "We're engaged to each other."

"Oh."

Hermione cracked one eye open and saw Harry watching her curiously, like she was a rare creature. At least he
didn't look disgusted.

"How do you think that happened?"

"No idea," she said honestly. "But we need to pretend to be engaged tonight. Okay?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I can do that. We can, like, hold hands and I'll wrap my arm around you. That's nothing
more than we've done before, right?"

"Yeah. So, uh, are you ready to go?"

"I think so. Do you know where we're going?"

"Yes. I looked it up when I was here, earlier today." Harry had a thousand follow-up questions but decided it
would be best to save them for later. Hermione held her arm out for Harry to take. He gripped her forearm with
one hand and the foreign wand with the other as she Disapparated them away.

They reappeared on the doorstep of a familiar house, but it took Harry a few moments to figure out why it looked
so familiar. His heart stopped. "Shit. They live here."

"Yeah," she said as she wrapped a comforting arm around him.

Harry hadn't been here since that night during the war with Hermione. And the house had looked much different
then. "Did I grow up here?"

"I think so."

Harry could feel tears sting his eyes. Hermione handed him a handkerchief. "You can't do that, Harry. You can't
cry."

"I know," he said as he patted his eyes.

When his eyes were dry, he took several deep breaths and tried to regain his composure. He could do this. He
could bury his emotions. He did it all the time in his job. He handed the handkerchief back to Hermione, who was
watching him worriedly as she bit her lip. "Are you really okay?"

Harry nodded silently as he looked back at her. They watched each other for a few seconds, then he threw his
arms around her and pulled her close. "I have no words," he murmured into her hair.

"You don't need any," she replied as she rubbed his back. "I know."

After a few minutes, Harry was finally ready to knock on the door. His mum answered a moment later, almost as
if she'd been waiting right next to the door for them to arrive.

"Harry!" she cried, pulling him into a firm embrace. "Thank you so much for coming." He slowly wrapped his
arms around her. What he really wanted to do was push her back and get a good look at her, but he didn't mind the
chance to collect himself. This felt so surreal. He was hugging his mum. Tears stung his eyes again but he blinked
them back.

His mum hugged Hermione next, then focused back on Harry. He took in her appearance and tried not to look
like he was gaping at her. Seeing her in real life was so much more satisfying than all the photos he'd memorized.
Her eyes were exactly like his, her hair was a deeper red than it appeared in the photos, streaked with occasional
strands of grey, and she had faint lines around her mouth and eyes — which made sense, since she was twenty
years older than any of the versions of her Harry had seen.

She was smiling widely but it didn't quite reach her eyes, which looked nervous. Harry got the sense she was
almost as excited to see him as he was to see her. Why was that? Didn't they see each other all the time?

Harry saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to find his dad standing several paces away,
leaning casually against the door frame. He nodded when he saw Harry.

Harry drank him in as he crossed the room, stopping a few feet in front of him. James, like Lily, was better
looking in real life than he was in his photos. He also had slight lines around his face and a little grey in his black
hair. He looked very similar to Harry but with square-framed glasses and hazel eyes. He watched Harry warily
and after a few moments of awkward silence, Harry hugged him, unable to hold back for a second longer.

He felt James relax against him and wondered again what was going on between his parents and the Harry in this
world. "It's good to see you, son."

"It's good to see you, too," Harry said sincerely, which made James smile widely.

James looked over his shoulder and nodded to Hermione. She smiled back as she went to join Harry. James pulled
her into a hug and whispered in her ear, "Thanks for this," before turning toward the kitchen and inviting
everyone to help themselves to dinner.

Dinner was more awkward than Hermione was expecting, and it didn't seem to be related to the fact that Harry
and Hermione were imposters. It was clear from the questions James and Lily were asking that they didn't know
much about their life. This seemed to be a reunion for them, as well as for Harry.

The dinner was also a kick-off for a big trip the four of them were planning to go on for the following two weeks
to see the Seven Wonders of the Magical World. Most of the conversation over dinner centered around that.
James and Lily kept pressing Hermione for details, since she'd been the one to plan the trip. She kept her
responses vague, just rattling off the facts she knew about the Seven Wonders from her reading. She made it seem
like she wanted to surprise everyone by not giving too much away up front.

At the end of the dinner, James pulled Harry outside while Hermione helped Lily clean up in the kitchen.

"I appreciate you reaching out," James said once Harry and he were outside. He leaned against the railing and
looked out at the garden, which was lit by floating lights. "We've missed you."

Harry leaned on the railing next to him and struggled to keep his voice even as he said, "Yeah. I've missed you
too."

James turned to him and gave him a small smile. "I hope this means we can put all that behind us. The war tore so
many families apart. I hated that it hit ours, too. We were just trying to keep you safe. One day, when you have
children of your own, you'll understand. And about Hermione... I'm so sorry."

Harry just nodded, at a loss for anything else to say. His dad nudged his side, then turned back toward the garden.
"What do you know about this trip? Is Hermione hiding the details from you, too?"

"I know next to nothing," he replied, which was the truth.

"Do you think she set aside leisure time for flying? It's been ages since we've flown together or, more accurately,
since I've flown circles around you."

"Hah! Right," Harry replied, remembering that in this world he was a flying teacher, so was probably an even
better flier than he was in his own world. Maybe having his father teach him how to fly from a young age had
helped with that. His chest clenched.

"I'd pack a broom," Harry said, turning to smile at his dad, who was wearing an almost identical expression on his
face.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Lily had just finished cleaning the kitchen. Lily hugged Hermione out of nowhere and
said, "Thank you so much for all of this."

"Oh, uh, it wasn't a—"

Lily pushed back and gripped Hermione's shoulders firmly. "I know you're going to say it wasn't you, that it was
Harry who reached out, but I know my son. The handwriting on the letter was his but I'm positive the words were
yours. And you set up this whole trip. I just—don't know how to begin to thank you."

"It was—"
"Have I mentioned yet how excited I am about this trip?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. A few times."

"And have I told you how much I love you and how perfect you are for him? And—Gods, I've missed him so
much. You too, of course, and I—just, thank you, Hermione. Thank you." She gave Hermione another hug before
finally stepping away.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Potter."

Lily froze and Hermione saw an obvious flash of pain cross her features. "Mrs. Potter? Are we—are we back to
that?"

Bollocks. This seemed like a big deal, but Hermione had no idea why. She tried to back track. "I thought we
could, um, start anew."

Lily waved her hand dismissively. "After what we went through in the war? I'm not sure that's possible. But I
appreciate the sentiment. Now can please call me Lily? No more of that Mrs. Potter nonsense. That just makes me
think of James's mum."

"Okay. Uh, thank you, Lily. That was a lovely dinner."

Lily grazed her arm. "You're welcome. Now tell me, how are your parents?"

I have no idea, Hermione thought as she cast around for a decent lie.

"What is wrong with him?" Harry asked as he paced the room for a third time. They were back at their flat,
having just returned from Godric's Hollow. "Cutting them off like that. Doesn't he know how lucky he is?"

"We don't know what they did," Hermione pointed out.

He turned to glare at her. "So you're taking the other Harry's side?"

"I'm not taking any sides. I'm just saying, I don't know, it's common for people to take their loved ones for
granted. And now they seem to have sorted it out and this trip should help them reconnect. They're going to be
fine."

"I want to see them again," Harry said quickly.

Hermione had been afraid of this. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "They're going on holiday, Harry. We
need to go. Even if we stayed, they wouldn't be here."

"Why don't we go with them?"

"That can't be a serious question. A thousand reasons just popped into my mind and I'm sure if I sat here and
thought about it for another few minutes, I'd come up with a thousand more."

"It's just two weeks, Hermione. Fourteen days. That's all I'm asking."

"Harry. We barely managed to get through dinner. If it hadn't been for that argument between this Harry and his
parents, we wouldn't have been able to fool them. And we'd—we'd have to pretend to be together, like, for real.
Share a room, hug, kiss, the whole deal."

"I know and I don't care."

"What if I care?"

Harry took her hands and squeezed them as he gave her a pleading look. "Please? It's my parents, Hermione.
My parents."
"Harry… this is a really bad idea."

"Please. I'm literally begging, here. Tonight was perfect but it—it wasn't enough."

"And what if fourteen days isn't enough? What if at the end of the trip you're begging for more? This isn't our life,
Harry. We have to go back."

"We will. I promise I won't ask for any extensions. When we return from the trip, we'll go right back."

"Harry, the other couple should be here for this. It seems important."

"They'll be fine. They have the whole rest of their lives to make up with my parents."

"The other Hermione planned this trip. We don't know anything about—"

"We both know she took notes. I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

Hermione sighed and looked down at their clasped hands. "Please," he said again.

She was quiet for a long time and Harry left her alone with her thoughts. He was sure she was going to deny him
again, and was bracing himself for the disappointment, so he was shocked when she eventually said, "Fine."

"Yeah? You're agreeing? We're staying?"

"Yeah."

He beamed, then kissed her on the cheek. Hermione flinched instinctively. "Oh, right, about that," he said,
dropping her hands.

"What?" she asked.

He looked nervous.

"Just tell me, Harry. We're about to be married, after all," she added sarcastically.

"When my dad took me outside, he asked me if we were okay. He thought we were fighting or something because
of how we were acting around each other. I think, er, we need to learn how to be more natural when we, er, touch
and stuff."

Hermione hmphed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was just fine. You were the tense one."

"You just flinched when I kissed your cheek!"

"I wasn't expecting it!"

Harry sighed. "Fine. We're both tense because, well, actually, I don't know. We used to be really close, yeah?" He
remembered during the war, when they'd been alone in the tent, they embraced all the time. She was always lying
her head on his shoulder or grabbing his hand, but tonight, it had felt weird for some reason.

"We're not as close as we used to be," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I guess not." Harry still saw Hermione pretty often, but not as much as he saw Ron. Somewhere along the
way, she'd become less of his best friend and more of his best friend's fiancée.

"Fine," Hermione said, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "I'll be less tense and try
not to flinch."

"I think we should kiss."

Hermione took a large step backward. "Excuse me?"

 "Kiss. Like, you know. We're going to have to kiss a few times on this trip and it'll be better to get it out of the
way, without an audience. Don't you think?"

"No. You're mad." Hermione turned and began walking to the bedroom.

Harry followed after her. "Come on. Please? It won't be that bad, I promise. Actors kiss people they aren't actually
dating, all the time."

"We're not actors," Hermione pointed out.

"We sort of are, for the next two weeks."

"I'll just wait for the performance."

"Come on, Hermione. Just kiss me. It'll be really quick, less than ten seconds. We can push back the weirdness
and begin to—"

She kissed him, mostly to shut him up so she could focus on her current task. She placed one hand on the back of
his neck and the other on his chest. After pressing her lips against his for a few seconds, she turned her head and
moved her lips, surprised when he moved his lips too.

Wow, he was kissing her back. That was...weird...but not unpleasant. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip,
then sucked on it slightly before pulling away, figuring she might as well commit to her role. Then, she was
overcome with embarrassment and began searching through the papers on the desk again, acting as if nothing had
happened.

"You're good at that," Harry said quietly, rapping his fingers on the edge of the desk.

"Thanks." When she was finished searching through her current pile, she looked up to find Harry watching her
curiously, still rapping his fingers on the surface. Hermione placed her hand on his. "Please stop that."

Harry nodded and pulled his hand away. Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "The kiss was
supposed to remove the weirdness, not make it worse."

"Yeah. I'm good." He wasn't, though. Just after he'd told her she was a good kisser, he'd been about to make a
quip about how Ron was a lucky wizard, then, he thought of what Ginny and Ron would think of this plan. They
were going to hate this.

As if sensing his thoughts, Hermione pressed her finger into his chest and said, "You're telling Ron and Ginny, by
the way."

"Yeah. I figured."

"Okay. Now snap out of this weird trance and go scour the flat for any information about our lives. I need to look
through the other Hermione's notes to learn as much as I can about this damned trip."

Harry went to the doorway, eager to be useful in some way. He stopped before leaving the room and said over his
shoulder, "You are the best. Do you know that?"

"Yes, I'm great," she said absently, reading through what looked like a journal. "Now go, lover, before I hit you
with something painful to move you along."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: My beta for this story is Lancashire Witch and I got this idea from a Tumblr prompt by johnburtonlee.
The cover and all illustrations are from quinsomnia. Thanks to all of them and to you, for reading.
 Enchanted Forest, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Five hours later, Harry was sitting up on the bed, facing Hermione, who was working at the desk near the
window. Harry was trying his best to stay awake, but his eyes kept drooping closed. It was during one of those
brief respites, when he was enjoying the comforting feeling of his eyelids against his tired, strained eyes, when
Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts. "You can sleep, Harry. You don't need to wait up for me."

He opened his eyes quickly, then sighed and looked over at the clock on the bedside table. 2:14am. Harry's eyes
slowly drifted to the shoebox and trunk to his left. He'd found the shoebox in the closet when he'd been searching
for details about his life in this world. It contained countless photos that seemed to go from his first year at
Hogwarts, until now. He hadn't taken time to look through them, though, since by the time he was finished
searching the flat, he was too tired. He figured he'd have plenty of time on their trip.

Under the shoebox was a trunk filled with clothes and other supplies for the trip. Harry was relieved the other
version of himself had already packed and saved him from the chore, which would have been difficult since he
didn't really know where they were going.

He'd tried asking Hermione for more details about the Seven Wonders, but she kept shushing him, saying she
needed to focus. All he knew was the brief overview she'd given at dinner. Harry settled back against the
headboard as he inwardly thanked the other Hermione. He knew she was behind the early packing, since if it had
been up to him—assuming he and this other Harry had the same general tendencies—he'd have left the chore
until the last minute.

"How much longer do you think you need?" he asked her.

Hermione shrugged as she kept her eyes on the stack of parchment in front of her. He had no idea how she was
managing to stay so focused. He was completely drained. Physically, emotionally, mentally, all of it. He couldn't
fathom reading through endless notes. He couldn't even manage the photos.

"I'm probably going to be at this all night. We need to catch our Portkey at ten so that doesn't give me much time
to memorize all the notes the other Hermione made. From what I can gather, she was planning this trip for almost
six months. So… there's a lot. I also need to set aside time in the morning to go through the items the other Harry
and Hermione packed to make sure they got everything."

"Why don't you just focus on the first destination and take the rest of the notes with you? And I can cross-
reference the items in the trunk with the list she made tomorrow morning. Don't worry about that."

"Yeah, that'll help. Thanks." She made no move to leave the desk.

"Hermione. Did you hear me? Just focus on the first destination and take the time now to sleep."

"I heard you but I—I won't be able to sleep, even if I tried. We're charging into the unknown and this is how I
cope, by gathering as much information as possible. You cope by being well-rested. Go to sleep, really, I won't be
offended."

"So, you're just not going to sleep?"

She shrugged. "I've skipped nights of sleep before. I'll just take a Stamina Potion if I need it."

Harry cringed. "Ugh. Those are awful. They work fine at first, then make you crash without warning."

Hermione turned the page and began reading the next one. "I know a way to stave off the crash for up to twelve
hours."
Harry rolled his eyes. Of course she did. "Why don't you Unspeakables share all the useful spells you know?"

"I've told you before, Harry. There's a rigorous testing process every new spell must go through before it's
released to the public. The testing for this one is underway and should be finished by the end of the year."

Harry watched her for a few more moments, marveling again at how focused she was. Hermione really was one
of the most remarkable people he'd ever met, if not the most remarkable. Because of her, he'd had dinner with his
parents a few hours ago and would be spending the next two weeks getting to know them. He just wished this trip
wasn't so stressful for her.

"Hermione I—"

She looked up and said snippily, "If you apologize again, I'm going to hex you. Stop bothering me, sleep, and I'll
see you in the morning."

Harry sighed but decided to listen to her. There clearly wasn't anything he could do to help her. He'd have to find
a way to make it up to her later. He put his glasses on the bedside table to the left of the bed and began pulling the
covers down. He paused.

"Do you have a side of the bed?" he asked her.

"Right. When you're lying in bed, not when you're facing it."

"Oh. Mine's the left."

Hermione nodded and said distantly, "I think it's the same for this Harry and Hermione. See the books on the right
side? Clearly mine, or hers, I guess."

Harry looked over at the books. She was right. That looked like Hermione's side. When had she noticed that? She
was so much more observant than he remembered. He guessed that was part of her job. He knew he shouldn't be
surprised by her—especially after the events of the past eight hours—but it was strange, reconciling this new
Hermione with the one he'd known from school. He was disappointed that she'd changed so much without him
noticing. Had Ron noticed? Probably, but he hadn't said anything to Harry about it.

"That's convenient," Harry announced as he got under the covers, "that we're on different sides of the bed, I
mean."

"I guess we're not engaged in this world for nothing," she said absently, then, a little harsher, "Now please, shut
up."

Harry nodded, more than happy to oblige now that he was in the comfortable bed with the covers pulled up. He
closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Hermione scratching a quill on the parchment and the occasional
swish when she turned a page. It was oddly comforting listening to her work and a few moments later, he drifted
off to sleep.

Day One

The following day—or, more accurately, later that same day—Harry and Hermione returned to Godric's Hollow
to meet his parents before their ten o'clock Portkey. Harry hugged his parents fervently again and could tell they
were a little surprised, which made sense. It's not like Ron or Ginny were constantly hugging their parents. But
Harry had to fit a lifetime of knowing them into just two weeks, so he was willing to push the limits a bit.

"Are you all packed?" Hermione asked, giving Harry a knowing look which he knew meant, "Get it together,
Harry, and lay off on the hugging."

James and Lily both nodded. "We followed your list as if our lives depended on it," James teased. "We especially
liked the day-by-day guide of exactly what to wear." He motioned toward his body, showing off his choice of
outfit.

Hermione ignored him and cocked her head toward two backpacks on the ground. "So those backpacks have your
trunks in them? Shrunken and lightened?"

"Yes, Ma'am," James replied dutifully before winking at Harry.

"With a water bottle, rope, jacket, and broom on the outside of the trunk, so they're easily accessible?"

"Yes," Lily chimed in. "But only James's has the broom and only mine has the rope, as instructed."

Hermione nodded and looked down at her list. She created a flame in her hand and burned the list, shaking the
ashes off her palm when the list was gone.

"Whoa," James murmured. "That was dramatic."

Hermione blushed. "Oh, right. Sorry."

Harry smirked. It appeared the Hermione from this world didn't perform complicated, over-the-top spells for no
reason. He gave her a look that said, "Get it together, Hermione, and lay off on the dramatic spells," which earned
him a large eye roll.

"Okay." Hermione reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a small object wrapped in a
handkerchief. "Put your packs on and gather around. The Portkey will activate in two minutes."

"A private Portkey? How luxurious," Lily commented as she stood next to Hermione and placed her hand on the
gold key resting in the handkerchief.

"We have Harry to thank for this," Hermione said.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise but he tried to hide it quickly. Hermione kept speaking in a rush, obviously in an
effort to draw his parents' gaze away from him. "We'll have private Portkeys for the whole trip. One of Harry's
students is the son of the wizard who runs the Portkey office. The man loves Harry and when he heard about our
trip, offered to help in any way he could. He was surprised when we asked for nine private Portkeys, but he was a
good sport about it."

"Wow. Good job, Harry," James said. Harry just nodded.

"Come on," Hermione said, nodding her head at James and Harry. "Hands on the key. We only have about thirty
seconds."

"Where are we going?" James asked.

"France," Hermione replied.

"Oh. How...exotic."

Before Hermione could retort, the Portkey activated and Hermione felt that familiar pull behind her navel. They
reappeared in the clearing of a forest, each stumbling slightly, but managing to stay upright.

Harry looked around while Hermione took a leather envelope out of her bag and untied it to reveal a long leather
case with nine slots. She returned the key they'd just used to the first slot and tied the holder closed again. Lily
was watching her curiously.

"What's the ninth Portkey for?" she asked after Hermione had returned the Portkeys to her bag. "By my count, we
only need eight."

Hermione nodded. "The primary eight Portkeys we need for the trip are time-activated. I requested an extra that's
touch-activated, in case of an emergency. It'll take anyone who touches it right back to your sitting room. It's in
the last slot, if you ever need it and I'm not in a position to activate it myself. Which reminds me—"
Hermione turned to James and Harry and said louder, "We need to take a moment to discuss our safety protocols.
I've just told Lily, but there is a touch-activated Portkey in the leather envelope in the outermost pocket of my
bag. It's in the last slot. Also, I have these." She reached into her bag and pulled out four coins. Harry recognized
them instantly as the fake Galleons she'd used in Fifth Year to send messages to the members of the DA.

As she explained how the coins worked, Harry could tell his parents were struggling not to laugh. He wondered if
the Hermione in this world was less intense than this Hermione. He also wondered how well his parents knew
Hermione. They seemed to be comfortable with her, but what occasion would they have had to get to know her if
Harry hadn't been talking to them for the past few years?

"We're currently in the Enchanted Forest," Hermione was saying, oblivious to the looks of mirth Harry's parents
were exchanging, "one of the most dangerous places in the world."

That got James and Lily's attention. Harry's too. "What?" he asked. "Why are we here, then?"

"Yeah. I'd like to second that question," James added.

She gave them a dismissive wave. "One of the Seven Wonders of the world, the largest fairy colony, is in this
forest," she explained. "That's why we're here. And we'll be fine, as long as we remain vigilant. Don't eat
anything in the forest, and I mean anything, unless I've approved it. Don't go anywhere near the west side, where
the centaur wars are currently raging. Keep your coin on you at all times, and don't go off alone."

Everyone was silent. James, Lily, and Harry exchanged concerned glances before looking back at Hermione.
"Okay," she said, clapping her hands together. "Those are all the safety rules I have for now. I'll let you know if
something else pops into my mind."

She turned toward the path behind them but James caught her arm. "Hermione. We really appreciate all the work
you've put into this so far, but can I make one more request?"

Hermione gave him an exasperated look. Harry could see the exhaustion in her eyes and knew she was extra
snippy when she was tired. Hopefully she wouldn't bite his dad's head off. "What do you need?"

James placed his hands on her arms and said seriously, "I need you to relax. We're on holiday, Hermione, and the
amount of stress you're exuding is putting me on edge. I can't even imagine what it's doing to you. So, take a deep
breath." He paused and waited for her to listen to him.

She sighed, then took a deep breath, as instructed.

"Okay. That wasn't so bad, was it? Another, please." James winked at Harry and Lily over Hermione's shoulder.

After Hermione took another begrudging breath, James let go of her. "You've done a great job setting this all up
and now it's time to enjoy it. Okay?"

"Fine," she grumbled.

Harry went to her side and threw an arm around her. "He's right. You've been brilliant."

Harry was beaming, his eyes bright with anticipation, and the sight of him looking so giddy, more than any of
James's words, made Hermione start to relax. She reminded herself why she was here, why she'd agreed to this
insane plan—that had a high likelihood of ending in disaster)—as she leaned into Harry. "Thanks."

He gave her a final squeeze before stepping back and asking, "So, what are we doing today?"

Hermione gave him a slightly guilty look before saying, "Hiking."

Harry's face fell. "All day?"

"We have to go eight miles. When you take into consideration that the average person can traverse two miles per
hour and account for breaks, we should be at our destination by mid-afternoon. So technically, no. Not all day."
"Eight miles?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's what the plan says."

Lily was at Harry's side now and nudged his arm. "Since when do you have a problem with hiking?"

Since I was forced to hike aimlessly around the countryside for months with no food, fearing I was going to be
discovered and killed at any moment. Harry just shrugged.

"We had a bad hiking experience earlier this summer," Hermione chimed in. "We ate some berries we shouldn't
have and were vomiting for three days afterward." She turned and smirked at Harry before marching toward the
path that led to the depths of the forest.

"That sounds awful," Lily said as she walked with Harry after Hermione, James following behind them.

"Yeah, it was," Harry affirmed.

Now that there was nothing to do but talk as they hiked through the forest, Harry began to panic. There was no
way his parents were going to believe he was their son. But they did okay. In large part, thanks to Hermione. She
started by chattering on and on about everything she'd learned about the Enchanted Forest, even stopping to point
out rare sights and creatures along the way.

After gaping at a herd of unicorns under a floating waterfall, they stopped for a break to eat lunch. Harry sat next
to Hermione on a large rock and leaned in to ask, "You studied all of that last night?"

"I thought we'd need something to talk about."

"You're incredible."

She responded with a shy smile before taking a bite of her sandwich.

After lunch, Hermione ran out of facts and it was time for Harry to take over the conversation. His parents kept
peppering him with questions about his life, from his job to the holiday that had taken Hermione and him to the
forest with the berries. Harry kept a commentary about his fake life going as best he could. Luckily, he wasn't
completely out of his depth.

He'd done undercover work as an Auror and knew the key to lying in these situations was to speak without
hesitation, stick as close to your real life as you could, and not use too many details in your stories.

But when the topic turned to Harry and Hermione's wedding, he faltered. His mum had asked how the wedding
planning was going and he had been about to talk about his and Ginny's wedding planned to take place at the
Burrow when he caught himself.

"What?" Lily asked, stopping on the path. "Don't tell me you're already married and we missed it."

"We haven't done any wedding planning," Hermione cut in, taking Harry's hand and linking their fingers together.
"We were waiting to mend things with the two of you."

Lily and James shared a glance, then Lily reached forward and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "That's sweet.
Thanks."

"Actually," Hermione continued, "I don't think I've ever heard about your wedding." She hoped this was true but
thought it was probably a safe bet. "Or your engagement," she added.

"Oh," James said as he continued walking up the path. "Harry's heard those stories a hundred times. Maybe he
should tell you."

"You tell her," Harry said quickly. "I've been talking for hours. And I don't mind hearing them again."
James wrapped an arm around Lily and kissed the side of her head. "What do you say, Lily? Should I start at the
beginning? Give Hermione the complete story?"

"How far back?"

"Seventh year. Which started with you hating me."

She smiled, then looked at Hermione. "Are you sure you want this? Once he gets going, there's no stopping him."

"Go on, James," Hermione said, turning to give Harry a discreet wink. "And don't leave out any details."

Harry couldn't believe he was about to hear the full story of how his parents got together, engaged, and then
married, straight from his dad. And these details should apply in his world too, since according to Hermione, the
two worlds didn't diverge until Voldemort chose to kill Neville instead of him.

He lifted his and Hermione's hands, which were still clasped, and kissed her knuckles. "You're brilliant," he
murmured.

"So I've heard."

A few hours later, Hermione told everyone to stop so she could check their coordinates. She cast a few spells,
then declared that they had arrived at their campsite.

"You had coordinates the whole time?" James asked. "Why didn't we just Apparate here?"

"Because then we would have missed out on this lovely hike, James," Lily said warningly.

"We could have flown," Harry chimed in, which earned him a fierce scowl from Hermione.

"I read something that said to truly experience the Enchanted Forest, you need to spend time in the Enchanted
Forest. Hence, the hike," Hermione bit back, defensively.

"I loved it, Hermione. Don't listen to the boys." Lily linked her arm in Hermione's and started walking with her to
the other side of the clearing. "Let's find a spot for the tent, then make them set it up as punishment for being so
whiny." Hermione couldn't help but smile. It was clear where Harry got his peacekeeper tendencies.

After the tent was set up, which was, thankfully, loads nicer than the tent they'd used during their camping during
the war, Harry came to apologize to Hermione. "Sorry about earlier. I really liked the hike."

She could tell by his expression that he meant it. "I was just following the plan. If it were up to me, we wouldn't
be camping in a tent for the next two weeks, no matter how nice it is."

He smiled. "It seems like whoever planned this trip didn't make a pact to never, ever, go camping again."

"Clearly not." She returned his smile as she recalled the pact they'd made. There had even been a special
handshake that went along with it, but she didn't remember it anymore.

Harry leaned in and placed a quick peck on her lips. "You didn't flinch that time," he said as he pulled away.

"I take feedback well."

"Noted," he said before leaning in to place another kiss on the side of her mouth, just for good measure.

Later that night, Harry and Hermione were lounging on the bed they'd be sharing for the next thirteen nights.
Hermione was sitting on the right side of the bed with her knees pulled up, studying one of the other Hermione's
planners and trying to glean as much information about the other witch's life as she could. Harry was lying on his
stomach at the edge of the bed, looking through the box of photos he'd brought from the flat.
The box was a mess. It looked like the other Harry was just as organized as Harry, which was to say, not at all. It
appeared that as soon as he developed a new photo, he just tossed it in the box. So, there was sort of an
organization system, in that the photos on the bottom were older and the ones on the top were newer, but that
wasn't much to go on.

Luckily, Hermione knew a spell to reveal the date each photo was developed. By now, Harry had ceased being
surprised by her wealth of knowledge. He was coming to expect her to have a spell to solve every problem they
encountered on this trip.

This time, the spell was a public one, so she said he should have known it. He was about to ask when in his busy
life, between his demanding job, wedding planning with Ginny, and renovating Grimmauld Place, he was
supposed to set aside time to learn random spells, but decided against it.

Hermione was exhausted, all because of him, and it wouldn't be fair to snap at her. With his head full of thoughts
of how stressed Hermione was, he came across a photo near the top of the box that made him pause.

It was Hermione, the other one, sitting on a corner bench in a dimly lit room with her knees pulled up, calmly
stirring a potion in a large, silver cauldron. She looked so serene and, frankly, beautiful. Her hair was billowing
down her shoulders in loose curls, her face was lit up by the golden gleam of the potion, and there was a faint
smile playing across her lips, like she was recalling a happy memory.

Then, right at the end of the loop, she looked up at the person holding the camera and gave them a breathtaking
smile. She lifted a hand to her lips and blew a kiss before focusing back on the contents of the cauldron.

Harry had seen Hermione brew potions before. She never looked this calm. Actually, he couldn't recall a time
he'd ever seen her this calm. Maybe when she was reading. He looked up to study the real Hermione, who was
currently reading the other Hermione's journal, but she didn't look relaxed at all. Her shoulders were tense and her
brow was furrowed.

He studied the calm, beautiful Hermione for another few moments before flipping to another photo. There were a
few of Harry and Hermione with some friends in various locations: the pub, a holiday house, even in Hogsmeade
for what looked like some sort of reunion. In all of them, Harry had his arm lazily draped over Hermione's
shoulders. One of them would usually turn to the other and smile, or lean in for a quick kiss.

It was a lot to take in. He was about to put the photos away for the night when one of them caught his eye. It was
a photo of the other Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Dean, Lavender, and Ginny, standing in front of a beach
house. This was the first time he'd seen Ginny in any of his photos. He smiled. She looked the same as she did in
his world.

He flipped to the next photo, which nearly took his breath away. This one looked like it was taken at the same
beach house, but from the inside. It was just him and Hermione. She was standing by an open doorway in a black
bathing suit, looking out at the beach. He was standing just behind her in his swim trunks, looking out at the same
beach with a hand on her waist.

He kissed her neck, which was exposed since she had her hair up, then whispered something in her ear before
nibbling her earlobe. She turned to him and gave him an adoring smile before grabbing his chin and kissing him
ardently.
The image caused something deep in Harry to reverberate. He felt extremely uncomfortable but couldn't draw his
eyes away. He must have watched the loop ten times before Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts.

He quickly flipped to the next photo. "Uh… what?"

"I said I'm about to crash from the Stamina Potion I had earlier." She had risen from the bed and was stretching
her hands over her head. "Did you find anything useful?" She leaned forward to look at the photo in Harry's hand.
It was one of him standing in front of the Quidditch shop he worked at with an arm around a boy around five
years old with red hair. Harry wondered if he was related to the Weasleys.

"Not, uh, yet," Harry said, trying to recover from the odd feeling from before.

"What's wrong?" She was searching his face. Even in a haze of exhaustion, she could tell something was off with
him.

"I've been thinking about my job in this world and I—um—" he searched around for something to say. "I guess
I've been trying to figure out why I became an Auror in the first place." This was true. He had been thinking this,
just not now. He'd been thinking about it earlier, during their hike.

Hermione simply hummed. She started climbing under the covers while Harry returned the photos to the box and
went to settle into his side of the bed. Hermione lifted her wand to turn off the lights, but stopped with her wand
in the air and said to the canvas ceiling of the tent. "I have a theory about that."
"What?"

She lowered her wand and turned to face him. "About why you became an Auror. Do you want to hear it?"

"Sure."

"Really? You may not like it."

Harry shrugged. "Go ahead." How bad could it be?

She turned onto her back so she was facing the ceiling. "I think you have a very low self-esteem, for obvious
reasons, and that you became an Auror because fighting Dark Wizards is something people have always told you
you're good at. You get a lot of praise for it and that's why you do it but honestly, I've always been a bit
disappointed that you went into that line of work. I think you already did your part and sort of wish that you'd got
a job at a Quidditch shop, teaching flying lessons on the side."

"Oh," Harry replied, at a loss for anything else to say.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it."

"No, er, it's okay. I didn't know you thought that." Harry heard her rustle and turned his head to find her facing
him again. He turned on his side toward her. "Why are you an Unspeakable?"

She bit her lip as she considered his question. "You don't apply to be an Unspeakable. They find you."

"I know. But surely, you're allowed to say no."

"Yes. You can say no."

"But you didn't. It's a very demanding job and pretty dangerous. So, I could argue the same, that you already did
your part and should have taken an easy job, like brewing potions."

Hermione was quiet for a long time. Harry waited patiently for her to speak. He was really interested in her
response. Why had he never asked her this before?

"When they approached me about the job," she began, her voice so soft he had to lean in closer to hear her, "I was
feeling… how to explain… like nothing fit. Everything had gone right, you know? We won the war, I found my
parents and restored their memories, Ron and I were finally together, but something was still… missing."

Harry's heart thumped hard in response. A cold chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room
seeped into him.

"The Unspeakables," she continued, "they research the most powerful forces of the universe. The magic no one
really understands, like love and happiness, fear, prophecies, time, and I thought—maybe if I was allowed to
research those topics, the unknowable forces, I'd find it."

"Find what?" Harry breathed.

"I don't know. I haven't found it yet."

"But you think you will?" He thought of the calm Hermione in the photo. She looked like she'd found it, whatever
"it" was.

"I don't know. I try not to think about it too much."

They were quiet as they laid in the bed facing each other. Harry could see Hermione's eyes drooping and picked
up his wand to turn off the lights. When they were in the dark, and could no longer see each other, he asked,
"Have you ever told anyone else how you were feeling when you took the job?"

"No."
 "Why not?"

"No one ever asked."

Harry's heart broke. He had never asked. He was one of her best friends and he hadn't noticed how dissatisfied
she was with her life. The signs were there, now that he was spending all this time with her, he could clearly see
them: the constant stress, the fact that she always seemed to separate herself from others, the job she'd taken—
he'd missed every clue.

Ginny was closer to Hermione than he was. Why hadn't she noticed and told Harry? But Ginny was busy with her
demanding Quidditch schedule and planning the wedding. What about Ron? What was his excuse? Then again,
he'd never been good at this sort of thing.

"Okay, I'm about to crash," Hermione murmured before returning to her back.

Before Harry could think of something worth saying, she was asleep. He sighed and shifted to put his glasses on
the bedside table, then turned back onto his side and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He watched
Hermione sleep for a long time, glad that she was finally getting some much-needed rest.

He reached out and placed a hand on the arm that was closest to him before whispering, "I've been a shit friend
lately but I'm going to be better. I promise."

He fell asleep a few moments later, turned toward her with his hand resting on her arm.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks to @quinsomnia for all the illustrations in this story!

 Enchanted Forest, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Day Two

The following day there was a short hike planned, so the group waited until after lunch to begin. That gave
Hermione time for a lie-in, which she normally wouldn't have taken, but Harry had turned off her wand alarm,
cast the room into darkness, and set up a strong Silencing Charm to prevent anything from waking her up.

After packing up the tent, they went to a nearby stream—which Hermione declared safe after running a series of
diagnostic spells—and filled up their water bottles. Hermione was unscrewing the cap of her water bottle when
Harry took it from her. "I can do that for you."

"I can fill a water bottle, Harry."

He just shrugged as he emptied the bottle into the stream, washed it out, emptied it again, then filled it before
handing it back to her.

Harry was being extremely attentive today and Hermione was racking her brain for the cause. She must have said
something last night when she'd been on the brink of sleep. She didn't remember their conversation clearly, thanks
to the after-effects of the Stamina Potion, but she recalled talking to him about why he'd become an Auror.

Then...had he asked her why she had become an Unspeakable? She thought she remembered that. Had she
answered truthfully? That would certainly explain Harry's odd behavior. Oh well, there was nothing to be done
for it now. Plus, she already had plenty of other things to worry about.

As if on cue, Harry leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "They suspect something." He kissed her cheek
before leaning back. Hermione's heart thumped. Harry was getting good at these fake kisses and embraces, but
each one still unsettled her. She tried to push the thought from her mind and focus on the present.

Lily and James were behind her and she saw Harry's eyes flash to them periodically. "What happened?" she
mouthed as she took a drink from the water bottle.

He smiled, then reached a hand out and pushed a curl behind her ear. "I'm glad you got a chance to rest. You
needed it," he said louder than necessary.

Hermione just nodded.

She heard rustling behind her, then heard Lily say something to James. James laughed and replied with, "No
kidding. But did you consider…?"

Harry, who had been watching his parents, focused back on Hermione. "He asked me a Polyjuice question while
you were asleep."

"What?!" she hissed. "Did you get it right?"

"Luckily, yes. He told me he always wanted to be an Animagus. I asked if he'd forgotten how to turn into a stag. I
guess not many people know that about him, which makes sense since we only learned it because of Sirius."

Hermione nodded. "You're very lucky that's what he went with."

"I know."

"What are we going to do?"

Harry looked down at his water bottle. "We need to be very deliberate about showing what we're filling our
bottles with. And if you can, go as long as possible without drinking anything. I suspect they'll be watching what
we consume very carefully today."

"We shouldn't have—"

Harry shook his head imperceptibly but it was too late. Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly jumped
out of her skin. Her magic crackled and whoever had touched her pulled their hand away. "I didn't mean to startle
you."

Hermione turned and blushed. "Sorry, Lily."

Lily was watching her intently. "What were you saying just now? What shouldn't you have done?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She had no lies at the ready. She looked at Harry, but he also
seemed at a loss. "It's nothing, Mum," he said, standing up and returning his water bottle to his bag. "Are you
ready? We should get going."

That was one strategy, but Hermione could tell by the shrewd look in Lily's eyes that it wasn't going to work on
her. James, who was near the path and had missed the interaction, called to Harry. "I forgot to ask, did you catch
the Tornadoes playing the Cannons last week?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry lied. He had expected to be asked about Quidditch on this trip so had studied the current stats
for each team and the highlights from the recent matches back at the other Harry and Hermione's flat. He looked
at Hermione, who was giving him a "don't you dare leave me here alone" look, then gave her a guilty smile before
going to join his dad. It would be strange to linger around Hermione and his mum since he'd been trying to
pretend like nothing was wrong.

Once Harry went to join James, they started walking along the path. Hermione tried to catch up to them but Lily
linked her arm in hers and held her back. "You don't want to talk about Quidditch, do you?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Hey, Hermione," Lily said seriously. Hermione turned to find green eyes studying her the same way Harry's had
been all morning. "Hermione," Lily repeated, this time in a lower voice.

"Yes?" Hermione asked, trying to remain calm. This was it. Lily was going to say she knew she was an imposter
and demand an explanation. What was Hermione going to say? She couldn't tell her the truth. Or could she?
Would that be so bad? Absolutely. That would be very, very bad.

"How's your injury?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she almost blurted, "You know?" but luckily, caught herself. Hermione took a deep,
calming breath and as she did so, felt the wound on her side thump several times with pain. She winced slightly
and took another, slower breath.

The wound was the first thing she noticed when she arrived in this world. It was constantly hurting and didn't
react to any of the healing charms or salves she tried. She performed a few diagnostic spells during her first visit
to this world, cross-referenced the results with the archives in the Department of Mysteries back in her world, and
decided it was an Everlasting Curse, which she'd read about, but never encountered in person, until now.

"It's okay," Hermione said.

Lily gave her another searching look. She shook her head before facing forward again. "You don't have to lie,
Hermione. I'm sure the four-hour lie-in you had this morning was really about you recovering from all the hiking
we did yesterday. Is all this activity making it worse?"

Hermione shook her head and said honestly, "It's not. I promise. I was just tired. I didn't sleep a wink the night
before the trip. The movement is good for the wound, I think. It's when I'm sitting completely still that it's the
worst since I have nothing else to focus on."

Lily gave her that searching look again, then eventually nodded. She leaned into Hermione and wrapped an arm
around her shoulders. "Do you remember what we talked about at Headquarters?"

No. Not even a little bit. "Um, yeah."

"Well, I think you need a refresher," Lily said as she returned her arm to her side. "You can't do everything for
everyone, if you don't stop to take care of yourself every once in a while. You are part of that world you're trying
to save too. Don't forget that."

Tears stung Hermione's eyes. "Thank you, Lily," she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady.

Lily leaned into her again. "You can speak up if you need something, okay? Don't bottle it in."

Hermione just nodded. She had no idea what the nature of her past relationship with Lily was, but the older witch
clearly knew her well. Lily had mentioned "headquarters" earlier, so perhaps they'd worked together during the
war.

They walked silently for a few moments, then Lily said darkly, "I'm so glad Dolohov is dead."

Hermione guessed he was the wizard who had done this to her but wasn't sure, so she just hummed in response.

"Did I tell you he was the first wizard James killed in the war?"

A coldness settled in the pit of Hermione's stomach. "Uh, no."

"It still haunts James, but I always remind him what that awful man did to you," she spat. "It's too bad no one
killed him sooner."

Hermione looked over and saw that Lily's eyes were bright with indignation, the same look Harry's got when he
was angry. It was eerie how similar they were. She understood why Dumbledore had said that although Harry
looked a lot like James, his nature was closest to Lily's. Hermione agreed.

"It's okay, Lily. He's gone and all of that... it's done. We won."

"Yeah. We did, didn't we?"

Hermione's heart broke as she thought of Lily's fate in her world. She never got to see the end of the war. But
she'd had such a huge part in their side's victory. Hermione dipped her head down because if she looked at Lily
for a second longer, she would burst into tears.

"Sorry to bring up such a sad topic, Hermione."

"It's fine."

They walked in silence for a while longer as Hermione watched Harry laughing with James on the path ahead of
them. She gave Lily a side-long glance and saw she was watching them too. Lily must have felt Hermione's eyes
on her and turned her head quickly, catching Hermione before she could look away.

"Harry seems off," Lily said bluntly.

Hermione resisted the urge to drop Lily's gaze, fearing that would look suspicious. "How so?"

Lily looked back at the guys. "It's hard to say… He seems happier, but also, sadder than normal. Which I know
makes no sense, but, well, is something going on?"

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it. She didn't know if this was a test or a serious question. Perhaps both.
And she was at a loss for how to answer since, although she knew her Harry almost better than she knew herself,
she didn't know how different the Harry in this world was.
"You know Harry," she began, with no idea how she was going to end the sentence. She was half-hoping Lily
would jump in and finish the thought for her, but wasn't that lucky. "Uh, he feels responsible for everything, you
know? It just… overwhelms him at times. But he's fine, and reconnecting with you two will be good for him."

Lily hummed and looked back at Harry. Was she buying it? Why had Hermione gone along with this insane plan?
This was probably the first time in her life she'd taken such drastic action without thinking it through.

No, it was the second time. The first was when she Obliviated her parents so she could keep them safe while she
fought beside Harry during the war, with no idea at the time what that would entail.

And after that, she'd done insane things with Harry, like breaking into Gringotts while impersonating Bellatrix, of
all people, and charging right into Hogwarts, one of the most dangerous places for them at the time.

Why did Harry have the ability to knock her off balance and make her forget all about plans and logical, reasoned
decision-making?

And this current situation...

Her mind kept racing through the possible outcomes, but she couldn't come up with any viable ones besides her
original plan, which Harry would hate. But he'd have to be okay with it, since every other option would
completely wreck the other Hermione and Harry's lives.

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest and she felt slightly sick. By the end of this, she was going to have a
stomach ulcer. She was trying to recall the Healing Charm needed to treat ulcers when Lily said, "Oh, Harry,"
under her breath.

Then, before Hermione could respond, she turned and added, "I'm surprised he hasn't brought up your injury. I
expected him to stop at least every fifteen minutes and check whether you're okay."

"Oh, uh, yeah," Hermione said, searching her mind for something to say. "I got him to drop the mother hen act
about a year ago."

Lily cocked an eyebrow at her. "How? By Obliviating him?"

"The thought crossed my mind." Hermione let out a nervous laugh. She turned to find Lily looking at her
expectantly, obviously waiting for her to say, "Just kidding, of course I didn't Obliviate your son. I'm not the type
of person who Oblivates people against their will."

Hermione took a deep breath. She needed to get a grip. What were they talking about? Right. The nasty wound on
her side which caused constant pain, like a knife being shoved in her ribs. The one Harry knew nothing about, and
which Hermione had no intention of telling him about. The first thing that had made her pause when Harry asked
her to stay in this world for two weeks and the real reason she'd stayed up all night before the trip, pouring
through the other Hermione's notes, searching for hints about how she managed the constant pain.

"I, uh, just had to be direct with him," Hermione said to Lily. "I told him how much the constant doting was
irritating me, reminded him that I am perfectly capable of caring for myself, and made a pact with him that if it
got really bad, I'd speak up and otherwise, he'd leave me alone."

"Huh. Well—"

Lily was cut off by the unexpected sound of music. Hermione turned right, toward the source of the sound, and let
out a sigh of relief when she saw a clearing with large, floating bubbles. Brilliant. She was officially saved from
the awkward conversation with Lily.

"I didn't touch it, Hermione!" Harry called from further up the path. "It was coming at me, so I threw a rock at it
and then the music started—"

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione replied as she walked up the path, motioning for Lily to follow her. "These are
perfectly safe. Watch."
Hermione waved her wand and cast a silent Finite Incantatem to stop the music. She reached out to the closest
bubble, which was larger than her head, and popped it with her finger. A beautiful soprano began to ring out, in a
language that didn't sound like anything Hermione had ever heard a human speak. The music felt like it was
coming from inside her, rather than from an external source.

She looked back and smiled at the look of wonder on the group's faces, then popped another bubble. A lower
voice joined the soprano, creating a perfect harmony. She popped a third bubble, then a fourth to add a percussion
line that sounded a bit like the tapping of a hollow log and a twinkling sound that reminded Hermione of wind
chimes.

Lily popped a nearby bubble, which added a sound of water splashing to the beat of the song. "It's all sounds from
the forest," Lily said, beaming widely. She ran into the clearing, popping bubbles as she went. She laughed and
jumped up and down, looking happier than a child on Christmas morning as twenty more harmonies were added
to the song.

"It's like a symphony!" Lily shouted over the song. "This is incredible!"

James dropped his pack and motioned for Lily to do the same, then grabbed her by the waist and began dancing
with her on the path, each of them laughing as they tried to figure out how to move to the ever-changing beat.

Harry went to Hermione's side and wrapped an arm around her as they both laughed at his parents. After a few
moments, he turned and kissed the side of her head. "This is amazing," he murmured, leaning in close so she
could hear him above the music and his parent's laughter. "Are the fairies making this?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. This means we're close to their colony."

Harry dropped his pack, just as his dad had done, and held a hand out for Hermione's. Once she was free of her
backpack, he gave her a small bow. "May I have this dance?"

"Do you promise not to step on my feet?"

"No. You know I'm a dreadful dancer."

Hermione smiled. "Maybe in this body, you'll be better."

"Only one way to find out."

She beamed back at him as she placed her hand in his.

The group moved on after exploring the clearing with the musical bubbles, stopping the songs and starting them
again—pleasantly surprised to find the tunes different each time. Almost immediately, they stumbled upon a rare,
magical plant Hermione said was called Booster Briar.

"What does that mean?" James asked, leaning forward to study the bush, which looked a bit like Sneezewort to
Harry, but without the flowers.

Hermione cast a few silent spells on the plant, which Harry guessed were diagnostic spells. Seemingly satisfied
with the results, she grabbed one of the leaves between her fingers and whispered, "Lumos."

The result was incredible and unexpected. A blinding light shot out of Hermione's wand and cast the area around
them into brightness for several seconds before it disappeared. It made Harry think of a camera flash but was a
hundred times stronger than that.

"Bloody hell," James murmured, staring in awe at Hermione. "Does that plant boost spells?"

Hermione nodded.

"That is incredibly dangerous."

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. "Luckily, the leaves only work when they are attached to the briar, the plant can't
be transferred out of this forest, and there are only four of them in the entire area, spread far apart. But even with
all that, it can be very dangerous."

James simply nodded, moving his gaze to the leaf in between Hermione's fingertips. She took her hand away, then
pushed the branch toward James. "Do you want to try?"

"Yeah. Obviously," he replied with a wicked grin. He looked at Lily and asked, "What do you think? Which spell
should I cast?"

Lily bit her lip and looked up at the sky as she thought. "Try Levitating something."

"Or someone," Harry said, stepping forward.

"No!" both witches cried while James perked up. "That's interesting," James said. "You could take your broom."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Harry grinned back, then looked back at his mum and Hermione. "I'll be fine.
Really."

Lily rolled her eyes and murmured to Hermione, "Boys," as Harry took his broom out of his backpack and
unshrunk it.

"Okay, Dad. I'm ready," he said, gripping the broom tightly in his hands.

"Wait!" Hermione stepped forward and applied a Sticking Charm between one of Harry's hands and the
broomstick. Then, she created a tall beacon of blue light in the center of the clearing. "So you can find your way
back," she explained as she stepped away, keeping her wand raised, just in case.

James grabbed a leaf on the plant, just as Hermione had done, and leveled his wand at Harry, who was standing
on the beacon at the center of the clearing, out of the way of any trees. When Harry nodded, James murmured,
"Wingardium Leviosa," and Harry went bursting into the air, whooping loudly as he went higher, higher, and
higher until he couldn't see the group anymore.

Harry was inwardly thanking Hermione for her brilliance in applying the Sticking Charm as he bounded through
the air, using his free hand to keep his glasses in place. It was exhilarating. He was moving faster than he ever had
on a broom. When he reached the top of his ascent, he floated momentarily, then mounted his broom in one
motion and returned to the forest, following the beacon Hermione had placed. Damn, she really was a genius.

"That was brilliant!" he cried as he reached the clearing and dismounted. "You have to try it, Dad."

"I'm already ahead of you," James replied with a grin, showing Harry the broom he'd taken out of his pack while
Harry had been flying.

After Harry blasted James into the air, he took another turn flying, then Lily and Hermione tried a few spells.
Once the group had exhausted all the safe spells they could think of, they continued toward their next campsite.

"That was brilliant, Hermione!" Lily said as she walked arm and arm with James along the path.

"I didn't put all that stuff there," Hermione replied. "I just read about it."

"Don't do that self-deprecating thing," Lily scoffed, turning to shake her head at Hermione. "Take the
compliment!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione smiled back at her.

"Does anyone think that maybe the music and the really cool plant were just there to lull us into a false sense of
complacency? Get us to lower our guard before a giant spider bursts out and tries to eat us all?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry," James replied flatly. "No one was thinking that."
"How dark," Lily added. "Hermione says it's safe and she hasn't been wrong yet."

Hermione nodded. "It's safe. At least, everything I read said so."

"A spider that eats humans…" James said thoughtfully. "Like an Acromantula? What made you think of that?"

Harry simply shrugged.

Hermione leaned into him and whispered playfully, "Yeah, Harry. What on earth made you think of an
Acromantula?"

Night had just fallen and the group was going out for another hike. They had reached their campsite and set up
the tent in the late afternoon, but Hermione said they had to wait until nighttime to make their way to their final
destination: the fairies' colony.

Currently, they were standing on the path about a quarter-mile from the campsite, trying to figure out which of the
three forks to take.

"Do you have coordinates?" James asked.

"Not this time," Hermione replied, frowning as she looked for clues along the path.

"What did your research say?" Harry asked.

"That the path to the fairies' colony changes daily and you need to solve a series of puzzles to get there."

"Oh. Were there any other hints?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, then perked up when she finally spotted what she was looking for. She created several
floating lights and moved them toward the end of the path with her wand. "Use the toadstools," she finished,
gesturing toward a large toadstool that was gleaming silver under the lights she'd cast.

"O—kay," James said as he went with Hermione to inspect the toadstool. "Is it supposed to be pointing toward
one of the paths?"

"No idea."

James poked it with his wand and nothing happened. "Is it supposed to speak?"

"No idea," Hermione repeated, frowning slightly.

"I have an idea," Lily said, coming up behind them with her wand raised.

Hermione stepped out of the way. "Okay. Go ahead."

Lily cast a gust of wind at the toadstool and a cloud of glittering dust rose into the air, swirled around several
times, then disappeared behind Lily. Hermione moved the floating lights after the dust and saw it had settled in
the air, hovering above the middle fork of the path.

"How did you know that would work?" James asked, looking at Lily in awe.

She shrugged. "I saw a little bit of dust on the top and thought it might be fairy dust. And then, I don't know,
decided to try the wind."

James pulled her into a hug. "You're brilliant."

"I couldn't let Hermione get all the credit," she said with a wink to Hermione.
"I don't mind getting a break from doing all the work around here," Hermione teased, returning to the path and
already making her way down the middle fork. "Let's go. I doubt every toadstool is going to work like that, but
we can try."

As Hermione expected, the next toadstool they found near a fork in the path did nothing when they blasted it with
wind. Lily and Hermione inspected it for several minutes before figuring out that when they rapped on the top of
the toadstool, a drumming sound came out of the woods in the direction of the path they were supposed to take.

It continued like this for another hour and a half as the witches solved the riddles of the next five toadstools,
leading the group deeper and deeper into the forest, while Harry and James stood back and marveled at how
clever their partners were.

But at the next toadstool, which was the largest of all, the girls were stumped. After trying to crack the code for a
solid twenty minutes, all they could do was get two of the four possible paths to light up. "I think we may have to
try both paths," Lily suggested.

"Yeah. That's what I was thinking," Hermione replied. They decided to try the path on the left first, since it was
closest to the toadstool, but after going a hundred yards up the path, they reappeared in the same clearing.

"Okay. Not that one," Lily said. They tried the next path, but the same thing happened.

"Huh. Interesting," Hermione said when they reappeared in the clearing again. Then, she got an idea. "You know
what? I think we may have to try both paths simultaneously."

"Ahh," Lily said. "Tricky. So you could never visit the colony on your own?"

Hermione shrugged. "Guess not."

"Are you suggesting we split up?" Harry asked, a hint of alarm in his tone. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Hermione placed a hand on his arm. "I think it might be the only way, Harry. And we'll divide into pairs, of
course, so no one's alone."

"Are you sure? What if something happens and we're outnumbered and—"

"We can Apparate back to the campsite. There's nothing in this forest to keep us from Apparating. We tested that
as soon as we walked in, remember?"

Harry nodded, but still looked concerned. Hermione saw his parents watching the interchange curiously and
wondered if this Harry was more paranoid than the one they knew. Hermione gave Harry a knowing look. He
sighed and nodded again. "Okay."

James clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure if you encounter any flesh-eating spiders, your
fiancée will protect you."

"I will," Hermione said with mock seriousness.

Harry just rolled his eyes as he took Hermione's hand and dragged her down the path on the left. "Let's go find
this bloody colony. And whoever finds it first, send a Patronus."

"Do you want to try to beat them?" Hermione heard James ask Lily as Harry pulled her further down the path.
Harry was walking so quickly, she had to run to keep up with him. The path didn't spit them back out into the
clearing, as it had done before, so that was a good sign.

"Harry, please slow down! My legs aren't as long as yours." She pulled back on Harry's hand.

He slowed his pace, but not by much.

"We're safe in here, Harry," she said gently. "Worst case, we get lost and Apparate back to the campsite."
"Are you certain we're safe? We've seen some remarkable magic in here and if it fell into the wrong hands we—"

"We're safe," she repeated. "The fairies are peaceful creatures and have powerful magic at their disposal, as
you've seen, which they use to keep this area of the forest free of all dark presences. Surely you can tell by the
feeling alone. There's none of that hair-raising, cold sensation you get when Dark Magic is nearby."

"Yeah." Harry stopped on the path and sighed as he turned to face her. "It feels okay I just—I don't know—I just
found them, you know? I don't want to lose them on the second day."

"I understand. It's going to be fine, I promise." Hermione took his hand again and continued walking down the
path, worrying about the moment when Harry would have to say goodbye to his parents for good.

The dark path wound on and on for almost a mile, with no indication they were getting closer to the colony.
Hermione could tell Harry was getting nervous and was about to suggest they send a Patronus to his parents,
more for Harry's peace of mind than anything else, when the path abruptly opened into a clearing so large, it
could fit the entire Hogwarts castle.

They'd arrived at the colony and it was... so much more than Hermione had been expecting. The whole area was
lit up in various ways. Every tree trunk looked like it had Christmas lights strung around it, there were glowing
waterfalls scattered around, colorful streams coming up from the ground that looked like geysers, glowing
toadstools dotted here and there, and a hundred other details. Hermione thought she could be here for hours and
not get a chance to see everything.

She jumped when she saw a group of fairies peeking out the hollow of a nearby tree and waving at them.
Hermione waved back and heard their twinkling laugh in response. That's when she noticed the faint sound of
music in the air around them.

When she looked back at Harry she was smiling so widely, her cheeks hurt. But she was so delighted by the sights
that she couldn't think of a better response than to simply smile and take them in.

Harry was beaming too, his green eyes sparkling in the glow of a nearby tree. There were gleaming leaves of all
different colors falling like snow around them and one fell on Hermione's foot. She looked down and saw that
even the ground beneath them was luminescent, covered in a layer of glittering fairy dust.

When she looked back up at Harry, he was watching her admiringly, which caused a warm feeling to spread
through her. "This is…" he began.

She nodded.

"I guess I don't have the words."

Hermione smiled. "I know what you mean."

Another leaf fell and landed on Hermione's hair. Harry reached forward and brushed it away. He had a hundred
things he wanted to say to her but had no idea where to start. So, instead of speaking, he leaned in and pressed a
soft kiss on her lips.

"Harry," she whispered, her warm breath tickling his lips. Harry moved his hand to her waist and tried to pull her
closer, but she placed a palm on his chest and pushed him back. "Harry. They're not—they're not here."

It took a few seconds for the meaning of her words to settle in. Oh. Shit. He wasn't supposed to kiss her just
because. The kissing and hugging was for show and right now, there was no audience. And he had a girlfriend.
No, a fiancée, and Hermione had Ron. What was he doing?

Harry was about to take a large step back when his parents stepped into the clearing. Harry tightened his grip on
Hermione instinctively, and he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his mum and dad. They weren't gone. Not yet.
 "Wow," Lily said, turning her head from side to side as if trying to take in everything at once. She walked over
one of the colorful streams and was lifted several feet into the air. She laughed as the wind encircled her, blowing
her hair all about.

"Well, that was unexpected," she said when she returned to the ground, trying to put her hair back in place.

James cocked his head toward Harry and Hermione, who were still recovering from the awkwardness of their
kiss. Harry noticed he was still holding her and dropped his hands from her waist.

"Hello, Lovebirds," his dad said teasingly. "I thought we agreed to send Patronuses when we arrived."

"Leave them alone," Lily cut in. "They clearly wanted a moment to themselves. We've been there, young and in
love."

"Now we're just old and in love," he replied with a wink.

Lily crossed her arms over her chest. "Who are you calling old? Watch this." She turned and jumped into the
same air stream that had just lifted her. When she reached the highest point, she jumped to the next stream, and
the next one after that. When she finally returned to the ground, a group of fairies on a toadstool near her started
clapping. Lily took a bow before waving back at the group.

"You think that's impressive?" James called to her. "Watch and learn, Evans." He got a running start and jumped
into the first air stream, then bounced through three more before grabbing a tree limb and pulling himself up, then
sitting up on the branch.

"Show off!" Lily called.

"Your turn!" James yelled toward Harry and Hermione. Harry cocked an eyebrow at Hermione.

"There is no way I'm doing that," she replied. "You go on."

He grinned and turned toward the air stream but after taking a few steps, turned around and backtracked. He
grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed it. "I know I probably say this too much, but you're brilliant and I owe
you… like… so much. I'm going to get you the—the moon or… something."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "The moon?"

"I'll think of something better."

"Good, because I don't want the moon. I think it's good right where it is. Now go on, Harry. Your parents are
waiting." He kissed her on the cheek before turning around and running after Lily and James.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: The inspiration for this wonder was a glow worm forest I visited in New Zealand, near the Fox Glacier.
Continued thanks to my wonderfully supportive beta, Lancashire Witch.
 Enchanted Forest, Part 3

After a lot of pestering, Harry convinced Hermione to step onto one of the colorful air streams at the fairy colony.
"You'll be fine," he said. "It only takes you four feet in the air, then you'll float back down."

"I hate you," she replied, but the words didn't match the smile in her eyes.

She gripped his hand tightly as she turned to face the nearest stream of air, which was a turquoise color. Harry
gave her hand a final squeeze before pulling his away.

"You can do it!" Lily shouted from the other end of the clearing.

Hermione stepped into the turquoise air. She rose up, and up, and up until she was nearly eight feet in the air. She
screamed. "Harry! You said four feet!"

"It was four feet for me. But you're fine. Isn't it fun?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as the wind blew her curls all around. "I don't like this!"

"If you fall, I'll catch you with a spell," Harry said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Just open your eyes."

She did, reluctantly, and started looking around her.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Everything looks beautiful from up here, and the air is warm, which is nice, and, and, I'm done now. I'd like to
come down, please."

Harry laughed. "Okay. Just step out of the air stream and you'll float down."

He watched her hesitate, then clench her fists tightly. "I've got you, Hermione."

"You better," she said sternly before letting out a squeal and jumping out of the stream. She was caught by
another gust of wind that guided her back toward the ground. But when she was just a foot off the ground, the
wind didn't disappear, like it had done for Harry, but continued taking her away.

"This is odd," Hermione said, looking curiously back at Harry, who had started running after her.

"Can you step out of it?"

Hermione tried to break free of the gust of wind carrying her, but it just kept shifting to catch her again. She
shook her head. The hairs rose on the back of Harry's arms as she was taken out of the clearing. He quickened his
pace.

When he finally caught up to her, she didn't look scared, but curious. "I don't know how to stop this," she said
when she saw him again.

He was running as fast as he could to keep up with her, so was breathing too hard to respond. He tried to get
enough air to tell her to Disapparate, when she disappeared down another path and he lost sight of her again. He
followed the fairy dust the gust of wind was leaving behind, winding further and further into the forest as he
shouted Hermione's name.

The air around him was cold and for the first time since he'd entered the Enchanted Forest, he felt the telltale
signs of Dark Magic: the emptiness in his chest, the way his hair was standing on end. "Hermione!" he gasped,
stretching his legs even further.

After what felt like two miles of running, the glittering dust led him to a clearing. He stopped when he spotted
two figures ahead of him, but it was too dark to make them out. "Hermione?"
There was a muffled voice. Harry cast several lights around the area to brighten the clearing. He let out a
strangled cry when the two figures came into focus.

It was Voldemort.

He had Hermione gagged and was holding her against his chest as he touched his wand tip to her neck. Hermione
let out another muffled sound through her gag. She kept cocking her head to the side and raising her eyebrows.
Harry knew what she was trying to tell him. She wanted him to leave. But there was no way he was going to
leave her alone.

"Tom," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. He tightened his grip on his wand, then remembered this wasn't
the Phoenix feather wand. It would provide no special protections against Voldemort.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort replied in that eerie, high-pitched voice Harry never thought he'd hear again.

"You're dead."

"Maybe in your world, I'm dead," he hissed. "Here…"

A cold pit settled into Harry's stomach. "No," he said with more confidence than he was feeling. "Neville
Longbottom killed you."

A depraved smile spread across the dark wizard's face. "Did he, now? You shouldn't tamper with magic you don't
understand." Voldemort dug his wand into Hermione's neck, causing her to twist in his arms.

Voldemort looked down at her, then at a plant at his side. Harry's stomach turned. It was the Booster Briar. Holy
fuck. By the look on Voldemort's face, he knew exactly how the plant worked.

"Take me!" Harry cried. "Let her go and take me; kill me." Tears were streaming down his face. "Whatever you
do, don't kill her."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill her," Voldemort said with a wicked grin. "Not initially, that is." He reached down and
took one of the leaves between his fingers, then murmured, "Crucio," just as Harry ran at full force, with no plan
in mind. He just knew he had to get to Hermione.

She let out a series of soul-wrenching screams and Harry felt himself start to dissolve with each step he took. It
was like he was becoming the wind that had taken Hermione away from him. As his body disappeared, he had a
fleeting and terrifying thought. He was going to be forced to float around the clearing, powerless to help
Hermione, while Voldemort tortured her to death.

"Hermione!" he shouted, but the words were lost in the wind.

"Hermione! Hermione!" No sound came out. It was like he was shouting into a vacuum.

He shot up in bed. "Hermione!"

This time, his cry echoed around the room.

Hermione's eyes flew open. Someone was shouting her name. Firm hands gripped her arm. "Hermione?"

The room was pitch black and her mind was fuzzy. "Hermione?" the voice repeated.

Everything fell into place at once. Harry. She was with Harry. They were in an alternate universe, traveling with
his parents, and sharing a bed. She turned and could barely make out the shape of him in the dark. "Harry. What's
wrong?"

He engulfed her in a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around her back, which pressed her head into his chest. He
was warm and damp from sweat and Hermione could barely breathe, but she didn't care. It was clear he needed
this hug and she could heal any broken ribs later.
"It was a dream," he was repeating under his breath. She could feel the words vibrating in his chest. "It was just a
dream," he repeated a few more times. "Fuck!"

As abruptly as he'd hugged her, he let her go, nearly jumping up out of the bed and leaving Hermione feeling
cold. She pulled up the blankets around her. "Are you okay, Harry? You had a nightmare?"

He just grunted in response and she could see his silhouette pulling a jumper on over his nightshirt. "I'm sorry to
wake you. Go back to sleep," he said before opening the canvas flap and leaving the room. She heard his
footsteps on the stairs as she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

"Ahhmmmewwwmm," she groaned as the pain in her side shot through her body like daggers. It was always the
worst right after she woke up. She was glad Harry was gone, so she could moan and wince freely. When she'd
finally pulled herself out of the bed, she stretched carefully, so as not to aggravate her wound. Then, she pulled a
jumper on over her pajamas and took one of the blankets off the bed, wrapping herself with it before going to find
Harry.

She struggled to find him at first because the moon was dim. She eventually spotted him several paces away from
the opening of the tent, sitting with his back against a large rock and his knees pulled up to his chest. He was
looking away from her, toward the forest.

Hermione took a seat next to him. They sat in silence for several moments, listening to each other's breathing,
until Harry eventually turned to her. "You can go back to the tent, Hermione. I'm okay, really. I'm sorry I woke
you up."

She turned to study him, waiting a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. There were tear tracks on his
face, shining faintly, and his eyes looked haunted. She opened the blanket and wrapped it around both of them,
then laid her head on his shoulder. "I know you like to pretend everything's okay, even when it's not, but you don't
have to do that with me, Harry."

He grabbed the blanket she'd draped around his back and pulled it over his shoulder, then let out a large sigh.
"How do you know me so well?"

"You're my best friend."

"Hmm." He was quiet for another minute or so, then added, "But we're not as close as we were."

"No. We're not," she agreed.

"We grew apart and I...missed it. I'm glad we have this trip. It's not just a reunion for me and my parents, but for
us, too."

Hermione just nodded. A silence settled over them and again, it was Harry who broke it. "Why did we never
make a point to hang out alone together? You're always hanging out with Ginny, and you obviously see Ron all
the time, but we only see each other in groups, don't we?"

Hermione nodded again. "I know what you mean. We should set up a regular lunch or something. The thought
occurred to me a few times."

"It did? Why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione waited a long time to respond. She sat up, so her head was no longer resting on Harry's shoulder. "It's
always me, isn't it? I guess I got tired of that."

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He turned toward Hermione, but she kept her face forward. "Hey," he
whispered.

She hummed but didn't turn to face him.

"Can you look at me?" When she didn't move, he unfolded his legs and turned his body to face her before adding,
"Please?"

When she finally looked back at him, her eyes were shining with tears. Harry had to blink quickly to keep his
own tears from falling. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "I actually realized yesterday what a shit friend I've been
and this just confirms it. I'm going to be better. Promise."

Hermione looked down at the ground and grabbed the edge of the blanket, which had fallen off Harry when he
shifted positions, and put it back on his shoulders. "You're letting the cold in."

"Oh, sorry."

He shifted back against her side and pulled the blanket back around himself. He wanted her to say more about his
promise, but all she said was, "Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about?"

"No," he said automatically.

"You should. It helps to talk about these things. There's been research about it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I can start spouting it all off, or you can trust me on this, tell me what you dreamed about, and save us both
some time."

Harry let out a small laugh. "Okay. I guess I'll go with the latter."

"Good."

Harry began to tell her about the nightmare, explaining how it had begun as a memory of her jumping into the air
stream in the fairy colony but changed quickly. How instead of landing safely on the ground, she was swept into
the forest. How he had run after her for miles and found her in a clearing with Voldemort pressing his wand into
her neck. He told her what Voldemort had told him, about not messing with magic he didn't understand, and then
what Voldemort had done afterward.

When he was finished talking, Hermione snuggled closer to him. "That's pretty dark."

"Yeah."

"It makes sense, though. You're uncertain about this world and the unknown dangers of dimension-hopping—
which is fair, I have the same fears. And you're afraid of being alone, so you were separated from your parents
early on, who could have possibly helped you fight Voldemort. And more than anything, you hate the idea of
being powerless to save your friends, so as you ran to save me, you were turned into air. It's...well...not
surprising."

Harry just hummed. Trust Hermione to have the wherewithal to accurately analyze someone else's dream in the
middle of the night.

"Do you still have nightmares back at home?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He gave her a small smile before turning back to the forest. "Harry?" she asked after several more moments of
silence.
"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" She remembered Ginny telling her once that Harry preferred to be alone
after he had a nightmare and would usually sleep in the spare bedroom for the rest of the night.

Harry thought about it for a minute, chewing on his lip, then said, almost reluctantly, "No."

Harry, like Hermione, was thinking about Ginny. Back at home, when he had a nightmare, he usually left her to
go sleep in another room. He knew she didn't have the patience for him when he was feeling pathetic and scared,
though she tried hard to hide it. She loved him for his strength and bravery so when he was suffering from
nightmares and flashbacks, or even bouts of grief, he tried to do so in silence.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "That doesn't sound like a very confident 'no.'"

"I'm sure."

She arched her eyebrow in a way that said, "You don't sound sure."

"I had a disturbing nightmare about you dying. Having you here, very much alive, is a nice comfort. Unless you
want to go now, of course. I don't want to keep you up."

Hermione watched him thoughtfully, then shifted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder again. "I want to
stay."

Day Three

The next morning, Harry and Hermione woke up late since they stayed outside talking for nearly two hours
before finally going back to sleep. "There's our fearless leader," James said when Hermione finally walked into
the kitchen, yawning.

"Here," he said, handing her a cup of tea. "Extra-strong with a splash of milk."

"Oh, perfect." Hermione took a sip and let out a large sigh. "Thanks, James. And you even remembered how I
like it."

He cocked a questioning eyebrow at her. Shoot. She thought assuming he hadn't made tea for her in years was
safe.

"It's an easy order to remember," he said slowly, "as it's the same way I like my tea."

"Oh, right," she said before taking a large gulp.

"You never forget anything. And with all that time you spent making tea for the Order members at Headquarters,
using it as an excuse to sneak into the meeting room," he added in an undertone, "I thought for sure you'd be able
to list off everyone's' order perfectly, even now, years later."

Please, please don't ask me to do that.

"Lay off her, James," Lily said from the table. "Hermione's clearly exhausted. Did you not sleep well?"

Hermione, eager for an excuse to escape James and his shrewd stare, went to join Lily at the table. "It took me
forever to fall asleep," she began, lying easily. "My mind was going a mile a minute after everything we saw at
the colony."

"I get that," Lily said with a smile. "That was incredible, by the way. I see why it's called a Wonder of the World
and now I'm more excited than ever to see the rest of them."

"Speaking of which," James said, taking the empty chair next to Hermione, "where are we going next?"
Hermione was relieved he'd dropped the topic of tea orders and dove heartily into the conversation, explaining
her plan for the rest of the day. She was telling them how imperative it was that they make their 2:00 pm Portkey
as Harry walked into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower.

"What's happening at two?" he asked through a yawn.

"I told you upstairs. The Portkey. It's set to activate at 2:00pm and we can't miss it, okay?"

Harry nodded as he took the last seat at the table. "Yes, 2:00pm. Got it." He looked down at his watch. "That
gives us four hours."

"Yes," Lily replied. "We were talking about going into town for more supplies. Maybe explore a bit and stop
somewhere for a long lunch."

"Sounds good to me."

"Hang on," James cut in. "We still haven't heard where we're going."

"The Forgotten City," Hermione answered.

"Right," James replied. "What's there?"

"No one knows. As soon as they see it, they forget."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"No, not really," Hermione said. "I know what's there but I think it'll be better if it's a surprise."

Lily leaned close to Hermione and whispered, "You can tell me. I won't tell the boys."

"Sorry," Hermione said with a grin. "But I will tell you it's in China. That's why I set the Portkey for 2:00pm,
which is 8:00pm there. Once we arrive, we'll all take Sleeping Potions so we can get right to sleep as we have an
early day in the morning."

"We're going to sleep at 8:00?" Harry asked.

"2:00 our time," Lily said.

"It'll be more like 9:00 after we settle in but we need to go right to sleep so we're rested enough when we meet the
guide at 6:00am the next day."

"Why so early?" James asked.

"You'll see," Hermione replied before draining her tea and going to the sink to wash out her mug.

"Your fiancée has control issues," she heard James tell Harry as she returned the clean mug to the cabinet.

"No comment," Harry replied, which made James laugh.

After Harry finished his tea, the group packed up the tent and went to explore the nearest magical village. They
seemed to have the entire town to themselves. They had fun looking through the shops and had lunch outside at a
small café where Lily and James told Harry and Hermione about their jobs.

Lily was currently working for a small publishing firm, doing spell and potions testing for new books. She said it
was occasionally challenging, but mostly dull. "I'm considering switching jobs and trying to do something with
my Potions Mastery." She turned to Hermione. "Do you still volunteer at St. Mungo's, making Healing Potions
and salves?"
Hermione nodded confidently. She had seen multiple appointments titled St. Mungo's in the other Hermione's
planner. Originally, she thought it had to do with her wound, but as that seemed to be incurable, this made more
sense.

"Do they take people full-time in that department?"

"I don't know. I'll check when I'm back."

"Brilliant." Lily turned to James. "Tell them what you're up to these days. I'm sure Harry will get a kick out of it."

Harry tensed. Shit. It was another one of those moments when he had to have the right reaction, with none of the
context. As far as he could guess, he had only got about half of these little tests right so far.

"Thanks for the support, Lil," James said. "There's not that much new to report. I'm still tutoring Hogwarts
students during breaks from school and while school is in session, I do contract work for the DMLE."

He worked for the DMLE too? Harry wanted to ask several follow-up questions, but couldn't. Luckily, Hermione
jumped in. She was getting really good at taking the role of questioner.

"Who do you work with at the DMLE? Anyone I know?"

Harry squeezed her leg. She was brilliant. It was an innocuous question that she shouldn't already know the
answer to, but one that could give them hints about the other people in their lives and what they were doing in this
world.

"Tonks," James replied. "I'm sure you remember her. She'd just graduated Auror training when you moved into
Headquarters."

"Yes. Of course I remember Tonks." Hermione smiled as Harry squeezed her leg again under the table. She was
glad that in another world, Tonks had survived the war.

"Well, you may not know that she's pregnant with her first child. Soon, she'll be on leave and I'll have to work
with Dawlish, the old stodger."

"James…" Lily said warningly.

"He is a stodger. They know that."

"Who did she marry?" Hermione asked, holding her breath as she waited for James to mention one of his best
friends. But he didn't.

"Some bloke who works in International Cooperation. I don't remember his name."

Hermione and Harry both tried to hide their looks of disappointment. So Tonks had lived, but she wasn't with
Lupin.

"Anyway," James continued, "as Lily was hinting at earlier, I'm also considering a career change. I love the
tutoring but not the DMLE work. I just do it to pass the time. I've never wanted to join up full time, though they
keep badgering me about it."

Harry squeezed Hermione's leg again, which prompted her to ask, "Why not?"

James waved dismissively. "I already did plenty of fighting and crime-solving in the war. What I want to do is go
back to Hogwarts. Or, no, what I really want to do is become twenty years younger so I can play Quidditch again,
but sadly, those days are over for me."

He winked at Harry, who was trying to figure out if his dad was referring to playing Quidditch in school or if he
had played professionally while Harry had been growing up. That would have been so cool.
"You want to be a Professor?" Hermione asked, uninterested to learn in what capacity James had played
Quidditch.

James nodded and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry let out a small laugh and tried to hide his nerves as he said, "Are they going to let you teach? One of the
biggest trouble-makers in the history of the school?"

James laughed and Harry relaxed slightly. "There's more," Lily chimed in. "Your dad is currently writing a
textbook."

"What?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"McGonagall told him it would be a good way to show the Board of Directors that he is serious and has put his
trouble-making days behind him."

Hermione perked up. Harry knew what she was thinking. If McGonagall was Headmistress, that probably meant
Dumbledore was dead. His heart ached slightly but he tried to push it away and force out a laugh. "Well, who's
stodgy now, Dad?"

"Hey! I'm going to be a very cool Professor."

"What subject do you want to teach?" Hermione asked.

"Transfiguration. But I'll take anything to get in the door. Even Divination, if I had to."

Hermione rolled her eyes and James laughed again.

"I'm with you, Hermione," Lily said. "That is the most useless subject they teach at that school."

Harry's chest clenched. If only they knew of the prophecy in his world that had led to their deaths. Hermione
grabbed his hand under the table. "Anyway," she said, "good luck, James. Writing a textbook sounds hard."

"It's not that hard. It's staying awake while working on it that's hard."

Lily laughed and leaned into James, then said in a more somber tone. "I wish Sirius were here to see this. He
wouldn't let you live it down."

James gave her a sad smile and there was no mistaking the grief swimming in his eyes. "No he wouldn't," he
agreed. "And he'd be trying to sneak inappropriate passages into the book, so I'd have to keep it under strong
Locking Charms. Remus would be better."

Lilly nodded. "Loads better. He'd help you draft your case for the Board."

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand again. Sirius and Lupin were dead in this world, too.

James sighed, then forced a smile on his face and turned to Harry. "It's not a terrible case. I think everyone forgets
that I turned it around in school and was made Head Boy. Then, I became a very responsible father who managed
to raise a decent bloke." He paused to nudge Harry. "A Prefect who would have been Head Boy had the school
not been occupied by Death Eaters his Seventh Year and had the interim Headmaster not put his son in the
position."

"Still bitter about that, James?" Lily asked teasingly.

"It should have been Harry. If there wasn't a war, the Potter Head Boy legacy that was intact for four generations
would have continued."

"Lucius is in Azkaban now," Lily replied, "so I think he's suffering properly for that crime."

"Among others," James said darkly.

"Enough war talk," Lily cut in. "We're on Holiday. Let's try to enjoy it."

"Yeah, you're right," James said, getting up out of his seat. "I'm going to take care of the bill. Then we can explore
the rest of the town in our remaining—" he checked his watch, "—62 minutes. Because I've been informed there's
a Portkey at 2:00 I cannot miss." He winked at Hermione.

"I'm going to use the loo," Lily said, disappearing into the restaurant behind James.

When Harry and Hermione were alone, they turned to each other and simply stared in shock for several moments.

"That was a lot," Harry whispered.

"Yeah. No Dumbledore, no Lupin, no Sirius."

"No Teddy," he hissed.

"Yeah."

"And Snape! He wasn't Headmaster."

"I know. I suspected that as soon as I learned I chose a career in Potions in this world. I was never very into
Potions growing up and most of that was due to Snape. I have a feeling he never switched sides in this world,
since he only did that because of your mum. So he would have never been a Hogwarts Professor and in position
to take over as Headmaster for Dumbledore."

"Huh. And what about Petti—"

The door to the restaurant opened and Lily reappeared. She motioned toward the door. "James is asking the owner
why the town is so empty but it's a difficult conversation since James knows fifteen words of French and the man
seems to know about that much English."

Hermione almost spoke up to say she knew several translation spells, but ultimately refrained, since this
Hermione was an expert in Potions, not obscure spells.

A few minutes later, James came out of the restaurant. "Okay. From what I can tell, there's a festival one town
over and that's where everyone is."

"What sort of festival?" Lily asked.

"No idea. Something about nights, which didn't make sense, since it's the middle of the day, but I got
coordinates." He held out a scrap of parchment with numbers scribbled across. "We can Apparate there and check
it out."

Everyone looked at Hermione. "Fine," she sighed, "but we have to make that Portkey at—"

"Two," they all said in unison.

"We know, Hermione," James said, making copies of the coordinates with his wand and handing one each to her
and Harry. "I promise we won't miss the Portkey."

"Okay, we found the people," Lily said once they arrived at the coordinates. That was an understatement. By the
looks of it, there weren't just a few towns-worth of people here, but all the witches and wizards on this side of
France.

"What the…?" Harry began, whipping his head around to take in the sights around them. There were tents spread
around, crowds of people everywhere, music, laughter, dancing, horses, and the sound of clanking and...swords?

Just then, two middle-aged men walked by wearing suits of armor that were much too small for them, causing
their bellies to poke out. They had their visors up and were drinking from large tankards of beer.
Lily nudged James and muttered, "It's like you when you try to fit into your old Quidditch robes."

James tickled her side, causing her to squeal. "Just kidding!" she cried, holding her hands up in the air for
surrender. "You're very fit and handsome."

He threw an arm around her shoulders and winked down at her. "I know." He cocked his head toward the men
dressed as knights, indicating they should follow after them. They came upon a tent where two other men dressed
as knights—who were younger and fit into their suits—were fighting each other with swords.

"What am I watching here?" James asked.

"I have no idea," Lily replied.

"Why aren't they using their wands?" Harry asked.

James shrugged.

"They have these medieval festivals in the Muggle world," Hermione chimed in. "Maybe this is the Wizarding
version of that."

Just then, there was a large crash and they turned to find a jousting ring about fifty feet away. Another knight was
lying on the ground, surrounded by a group of Medi-Wizards. After a few moments, the Medi-Wizards Levitated
the man into the air and moved him out of the ring as his winged horse followed behind him.

They watched the next round and at the end, before the knight closest to them was hit, his horse flapped his wings
and rose into the air, flying out of the way just in time.

James looked back at the group. "He was talking about 'knights,' not 'nights.' This is incredible, by the way."

"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed. "But remember, we only have—" she looked down at her watch, "—45 minutes
here. So use your time wisely."

James held his hand out to her. "Give me the Portkey."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Hermione frowned, but still reached into her pack for the leather envelope that held the Portkeys. She pulled
another key, this one bronze, out of the second slot and handed it to James.

He tapped it with his wand and an inscription appeared in the air above the key. Portkey will activate on 12-08-01
at 2:00pm CET.

"See?" Hermione said. "2:00pm."

"Yes, I wasn't doubting the accuracy of the time," he said absently as he murmured a few incantations under his
breath.

Hermione watched as a series of gold symbols appeared above the Portkey. James moved a few of them around
with his wand, muttered another incantation, then handed the key back to Hermione. "Check the time now."

Hermione tapped her wand to the key. Portkey will activate on 12-08-01 at 4:00pm CET.

"James! What did you do?"

"Changed the time," he said with a shrug. "Now we have two hours and forty-five minutes to explore this bizarre
festival." He turned down one of the paths, dragging Lily behind him, who mouthed, "Sorry," to Hermione over
her shoulder.
"James!" Hermione cried, chasing after him. "How did you do that?"

"Ah. So you don't know all the spells," he teased.

Hermione scowled. No, she didn't know how to alter timed Portkeys. She was sure she could figure it out, but it
would probably take her a few hours and by then, it would be too late. She looked at Harry, who was exchanging
an amused look with Lily. He gave Hermione a small, apologetic smile when he saw her glaring at him.

James disappeared into one of the tents and reappeared a few minutes later holding a glass of wine. "Take this,
Hermione."

"I don't want wine," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want you to fix my Portkey. Like I said
back at the tent, we have an early day tomorrow and—"

"I know, Hermione, and we'll be fine. We'll arrive at 10:00pm Chinese time, go to bed immediately and be asleep
by 10:30. Then we'll wake up at 5:30 the next morning for our tour. That will give us seven hours of sleep, which
is plenty."

He shook the wine glass in his hand again. "Now please, drink this, relax, and watch people pretend to be
knights."

She glared at him as she grabbed the wine and took a large gulp. "Wow. That's strong."

"It's a fortified wine. I thought you needed some extra help loosening all that tension you're carrying around."

"At least tell me what spell you used on the Portkey."

"I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, I'm in charge of these." He took the leather envelope with the Portkeys out of her
hand and shoved them in an inner pocket of his robes.

"James!"

"Sorry, Hermione. It's my turn to lead the group. You can take over again when we get to China."

She huffed, then looked at Harry and murmured, "Your dad has control issues."

James let out a laugh and pulled her into his side. "I cannot wait until you're a Potter, Hermione. You're going to
fit right in."

Hermione's eyes flashed to Harry, who was wearing an odd look before he caught her watching him and made his
expression blank. She shot him a shy smile, then drained the rest of her glass.

An hour later, they were in one of the tents with live music. Lily and Hermione were sitting at one of the tables,
watching the couples on the dance floor, while Harry and James went to get another round of drinks.

"Hey," James said, nudging Harry's arm as they waited in line. "How's Hermione doing?"

Harry turned around and saw Hermione laughing at something his mum had just said. "What do you mean?"

"I got to know her pretty well during the war—" He paused and gave Harry a knowing look.

When he didn't keep talking, Harry said, "Were you going to finish that sentence?"

"I was waiting for you to bite my head off there."

"We agreed to put all that behind us," Harry said quickly, looking back at Hermione and his mum, just as an
excuse to look away from James's searching look.
"Yeah. You're right. Anyway, I know how stressed she can get but it got a lot better at the end, especially after
you two got together and she learned to cope with her injury." He paused again. When Harry said nothing, he
asked, "Still nothing? Not even a glare? You are committed to leaving it all in the past, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, keeping his eyes on the witches. "I am." It was obvious their rift had something to do with
Hermione, but Harry couldn't imagine what it could be about. And this was the first he was hearing about any
injury. Luckily, she appeared to have made a full recovery. He smiled when she laughed again, leaning her head
back and letting her laughter take over her whole body. Harry wished he were in that conversation, instead of this
one.

He turned to James and said bluntly, "What do you want to say, Dad?"

"She was better than this, after the war, but she seems to have regressed. She's just as stressed now as she was at
Headquarters."

Harry just hummed.

"And you're not much better," James added. "You've been off, especially today."

Harry just nodded. He was still a little shaken from his nightmare but wasn't about to bring it up. "I'm okay," he
said, forcing a smile on his face. "I just, uh, get down every so often."

James studied him for a few seconds, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have a great job, you've earned the
love of a remarkable witch, and we just saw one of the most beautiful sights I've ever encountered. But here you
are, sad."

"Yeah," Harry replied, blinking back tears.

They'd reached the front of the line and James ordered their drinks. He handed Harry a beer and a wine. "I know
you have a lot to be sad about, we all do, but try your best to focus on the good things in your life. Focusing on
the other stuff will just drive you mad."

When they returned to the table, James put his and Lily's drinks down and bowed low, offering her his hand.
"May I have this dance?"

"Absolutely," Lily replied, jumping up and placing her hand in his.

James gave Harry a knowing look before pulling Lily onto the dance floor.

Harry sighed as he took a seat next to Hermione. "My dad thinks we're too serious."

"Ahh. That might be true," she said, taking a sip from the glass Harry had just handed to her.

"It seems like the other Harry and Hermione were a lot more fun than we are."

"Yeah, well, the other Harry wasn't an orphan, raised by relatives who didn't like him, and forced to spend his
childhood figuring out how to defeat the darkest wizard of all time while every parent figure who entered his life
dropped dead."

"Blunt."

She just smiled and shrugged.

"What's your excuse?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "No idea." She got up from the table with some difficulty, then straightened her robes. "Let's
dance."

Harry looked her over. She was wobbly and her eyes were slightly unfocused. "Are you drunk?
"Tipsy," she corrected, looking proud of herself.

"How many of those have you had?"

"That's my third."

"Hermione! There's liquor in those, so each one is like two drinks. Need I remind you that you're a lightweight?"

She shrugged. "You should join me. Maybe then your parents won't think you're too serious."

"I think at least one of us should stay sober."

"Okay. Where did we land on the dance?"

Harry stood up, grabbed her waist, and guided her to the other side of the tent. He saw his dad give him an
approving nod and smiled back at him before turning to face Hermione. "Okay. What was the verdict from our
dance yesterday? Am I just as bad of a dancer in this body as I was in my own?"

"Yes. This Harry is a very bad dancer. But I have a feeling he doesn't care." She placed her hands on his hips and
shook them, trying to get him to loosen his stance. "Relax, Harry."

Harry took her hands and pushed her out, then turned his arm around her head, trying to get her to twirl. She
turned quickly and crashed into him on her way back. "Graceful," he laughed, holding her close to steady her.
"Who's the bad dancer now?"

She laughed loudly, which just made him laugh more. "See, we can have fun," she said as she stepped back and
linked her hands behind his neck.

"Sure we can. We'll show them."

Hermione shook her head. "Let's not do it for show. Let's just have fun for ourselves today." She raised an
imaginary glass and said, "To us!"

"You do realize there's nothing in your hand."

"Of course I do. I'm not that far gone. We'll finish the toast when we get back to the table."

"I think I should cut you off."

She pouted. "Come on...one more? I thought we were going to have fun."

She was beaming, her brown eyes bright, and Harry couldn't drag his eyes away. He was reminded of that photo
of the Hermione from this time. He reached out and pushed a curl behind her ear. "Fine. You can finish that glass
of wine, but first, are you ready to attempt another twirl?"

She moved close, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek as she said, "Yes. But don't drop me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

 Forgotten City, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The group caught their Portkey to China at 4:00pm sharp. No thanks to Hermione, who was too giggly and
wobbly to coordinate something as simple as Portkey travel. Harry had to get a firm grip on her waist before
grabbing the bronze key and struggled to keep them both upright when they landed under the night sky several
moments later outside a dark building.

James and Lily lit their wands and cast the light toward the building. "Is this where we're staying, Hermione?"
Lily asked. "Or are we camping?"

"We're staying at an inn owned by our guide. Joe something."

"Okay," James said, reaching for the doorknob. It didn't turn in his hand. "I think it's closed," he said, pulling his
hand away.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe you shouldn't have changed the Portkey time. Then we'd have arrived
before they locked up for the night."

"You could have mentioned that."

She shrugged, then began to snigger, leaning against Harry for support.

James shook his head and focused back on the door. "Who let her drink so much?"

Lily raised a tentative hand. "She needed to lighten up, but I may have gone a bit overboard. In hindsight, that last
glass of wine wasn't a good idea. We should have cut her off at two. I blame Harry."

"Me?" asked Harry.

"You're her keeper," Lily said simply.

"I am a strong, confident woman who doesn't need a man or a keeper or, or, any of that sort of thing," Hermione
slurred. She stood up straight and threw her shoulders back, but forgot to account for the weight of her backpack
and nearly fell over. Harry caught her as Lily let out a snort.

"Okay, dear," Lily said kindly, reaching out to pat Hermione's head. "You don't need a wizard or a keeper, we get
that, but we're going to have this wizard here keep you upright, if that's okay." She winked at Harry before turning
back to help James. "I think we should knock."

"Yeah. Okay. I don't see a bell or anything." James knocked firmly on the door. Nothing happened. He knocked
again, then a third time. Harry was about to suggest they just camp for the night when the door opened to reveal a
very short, very angry-looking Chinese man, wearing a black robe and green slippers.

"Grangers?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"Uh, sure. We can be Grangers," James replied, nodding his head up and down to make his meaning extra-clear.

"You late," the man sneered.

"So sorry, Joe," Hermione chimed in, pushing herself to the front. "It was his fault." She pointed at James.

"No Joe," the man said, affronted. "Jua-hao."

"Joe-how," Hermione repeated.

The man rolled his eyes and repeated sternly, "No Joe! Jua-hao."

Hermione was about to try again when Lily grabbed her by the arms and handed her back to Harry. "Let us take
over, Hermione. Before you get us kicked out."

Lily turned back to the man and shot him a brilliant smile. "Your name, how do you spell it?"

"With Chinese characters," he said gruffly.

"Of course. Sorry."

He sighed and added, "In pinyin, name is Z-h-i-h-a-o. Jua-hao."

"Spelled just like it sounds," James quipped.

Lily glared at him and hissed, "Are you trying to get hexed?" James cowered slightly and took a step back as Lily
turned to face the man again. "Zhihao," she began in a pretty good impersonation of the man. "So sorry we're late.
We were held up at our last destination. And about your name, please forgive my family, we're just stupid Brits
who clearly need to get off our island more often."

She gave him another dazzling smile. Zhihao frowned back at her for a few moments before letting out a small
grunt and disappearing inside the building.

Lily turned back to the group and hissed, "No one talks except for me. Got it?"

Everyone nodded dutifully, even Hermione. Lily turned back to the door, which was ajar, and was about to push it
open when James whispered, "Are you sure we're supposed to go after him?"

She shrugged. "Why else would he have left it open? Now hush."

Lily led the group into a large, dimly lit house that looked distinctly Asian to Harry, with lattice patterns in the
windows, sliding panels separating the rooms, an array of stone vases lining the walls, and a blocky, wooden
dining table at the center. "This is gorgeous," Lily said, looking around in awe. "Is this your home, Zhihao?"

"Yes, home," he said curtly, clearly out of patience for them and ready to get back to bed. "Rooms upstairs," he
said, pointing toward a simple staircase on his right. "Six o'clock start. Full day. No late." He said the last words
to Hermione directly.

Before anyone could respond, he disappeared down a hall at the back of the house.

"No late," James repeated. "Got that, Hermione?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, then burst into giggles. Harry Silenced her quickly, which earned him an
appreciative nod from his mum.

Lily and James went up the stairs first as Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist and nearly pulled her
up after them. "Let's go to the room and get you a lot of water."

"Don't forget a strong Silencing Charm," James said when he reached the landing.

Harry nodded as he and Hermione ascended the last few stairs. "Good idea. We don't want you waking up your
friend Joe, again."

Hermione flipped him off, which made James laugh. "Hush," Lily hissed. "I checked and there are two rooms at
the end here with the doors open, so they must be ours. We'll take the one on the right and you and Hermione can
have the one across."

"Sounds good," Harry replied, heading toward the room she had indicated. "Do you have Sleeping Potions?"
"Yeah," Lily said. "They were on the packing list." She reached out and patted Hermione's cheek. "Sorry in
advance for the bad day you're going to have tomorrow." Lily moved her hand up to Harry's shoulder and leaned
in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good night and we'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

Once Harry had pulled Hermione into the room, closed the door, and cast a Silencing Charm on the doors and
walls, he pointed his wand at Hermione and murmured, "Finite Incantatem."

She sat back on the bed and gave him a large smile.

He couldn't help but laugh as he took her trunk out of her backpack, enlarged it, and started looking through it for
the Potions Hermione had packed.

"Your dad told us to cast a strong Silencing Charm."

"Yep," Harry said absently, "and I did."

Hermione laughed and flopped back on the bed. "They probably think we're having S-E-X."

Harry snorted. "Right. Because this giggly, can't-hold-herself-up behavior is extremely sexy. Also, the fact that
you spelled it out makes you a dork."

"I like shagging when I'm drunk." She lifted herself on her elbows to look at him. "Don't you?"

Harry had just found the Sleeping Potion and pulled it out, but continued to search the trunk for a Hangover
Potion.

"Let's move on to a less awkward topic of conversation."

She hummed. "Most people talk to their friends about it, but your best friend is Ron, so that's weird."

Harry stopped searching and looked up at Hermione, who was on her back again, looking at the ceiling. "You talk
to Ginny about that stuff?"

Hermione lifted up again and winked at him. "She said all good things. Mostly…"

Harry took a pair of balled-up socks out of her trunk and threw them at her. She lunged to catch them and nearly
fell off the bed in the process. "That's what you get," Harry teased before continuing his search.

"Maybe they're shagging," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Who?"

"Your parents."

"Hermione! What is wrong with you?"

She turned her head and smiled at him. "What? We know they shag; they had you. Do you need a refresher on
where babies come from?"

"I know they shag but I don't need the mental image. Now, can you please stop talking about shagging?"

Hermione hummed again but did, thankfully, drop the conversation.

After confirming that there were no Hangover Potions in Hermione's trunk, Harry went to the bed and offered
Hermione his hand. Once he'd pulled her up to a sitting position, he handed her a vial of Sleeping Potion and a
large glass of water. "Sorry, there was no Hangover Potion."

"Oh. Is that what you were looking for?"

"Yeah."
"You can get the same effects as a Hangover Potion by mixing two parts Brain Elixir with one part General
Healing Potion and one part Nutrient Potion, and I know I have all of those in my trunk."

Harry's jaw dropped and she just shrugged, then downed the glass of water and Sleeping Potion in quick
succession.

"How did you know that? You're not the one getting a Potions Mastery."

She shrugged again. "I read it in the other Hermione's notes. She packed a lot of basic Potions that can be mixed
to make more complicated Potions. It was rather brilliant."

Harry shook his head. "You can barely walk but that, you remember perfectly. You are a strange kind of genius,
Hermione Granger."

Hermione smiled and carefully rose from the bed. "How about you make the Potion while I get changed?" She
grabbed a few articles of clothing from her trunk and picked up her wand.

She looked blankly at it for a few seconds before Harry asked, "Would you like me to erect a screen for you?"
hence don't
Hermione nodded. "Yes, please."
relate one
Harry mixed the makeshift Hangover Potion while Hermione dressed behind a black curtain. situation with
He heard her fall
over and almost went to check on her, but stopped himself and called instead, "Are you still alive?"
another actively
"All good," she said. "I'm just going to have a large bruise on my hip tomorrow." tnink about
Harry shook his head. "Okay. This Potion is ready. Do you have clothes on?" every situation
"Yes."
and take
approproateacti
Harry stood and dropped the screen. He froze in place. While Hermione did technically have clothes on, it was a
lot less than he'd been expecting. "What?" she asked, looking down at herself.
on
She was wearing a tight grey tank top which was twisted all around her waist, showing off about half of her bra
which, thankfully, she was still wearing. And instead of wearing sleep trousers, as she'd been doing for most of
the trip, she was wearing skimpy shorts that barely covered her knickers.

The way she was standing there in clothes that clung to her curves, with her long, curly hair billowing over her
shoulders, and her lip pulled between her teeth made a familiar heat pool in Harry's lower abdomen.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This is Hermione. She's engaged. And so are you!

Harry sighed and placed the Potion on the side table, then walked to her. He pulled her tank top back in place.
"Not your best work," he tsked, trying to keep his voice light. When he was finished, he leaned back and smiled
at her. "You're a mess."

She gave him a breathtaking smile. Harry reached up and pushed her hair behind her shoulder with one hand,
tracing his fingers down her neck, which was warm and soft, while his other hand rested on her waist. The pool of
heat in his stomach rippled. Shit. Enough lingering touches. Harry took a large step back and said hoarsely, "Uh.
No trousers tonight?"

"No. I'm really hot," she replied, pressing her hands to her face and neck.

"Yeah." Did you just say she's hot? Don't be a pervert. "Anyway. Uh, here." He picked up the Potion and shoved
it at her.

Hermione nodded and drank the Potion quickly. "Thanks," she said, turning back to Harry. "And not just for the
Potion. I had a lot of fun today."

"Me too. I've been having fun this whole time."

"Except for the nightmare last night."

He smiled and shook his head. "You're determined to put unwanted images in my head, aren't you?"

She winced. "Sorry. I'd normally filter all this out before saying it out loud."

Harry patted her arm before taking the empty vial from the bedside table and putting it back in her trunk. "Let's
get you to bed. And I meant that in a non-sexual way," he added sternly—which was more of a reminder for
himself than for her.

She snorted as she began climbing under the covers. "Ron would kill you. Actually, he'll probably kill you
anyway."

"You think so?" Harry was standing by the side of the bed and took a seat on the edge.

"Yeah, but it's okay," she slurred. "You can take him in a duel. But don't tell him I said so."

Harry let out a laugh but on the inside, he felt sick as the truth of Hermione's statement settled in. Ron was going
to hate this.

When Hermione grazed her hand along his arm, Harry looked back at her. She looked half-asleep and was giving
him a small smile.

"What?" he asked.

"Even if he ends up giving me the cold shoulder for months, I'd do it again," she whispered. The next moment,
her eyes closed as the Sleeping Potion took over.

Harry leaned forward and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "Fuck," he whispered as he shook his head and
rose from the bed. He gathered Hermione's clothes from the floor, folded them, and returned them to her trunk.
Then he found her sleep trousers and placed them on the bedside table, in case she got cold at night.

He found her wand under the bed and placed it next to the trousers, since he hated waking up without a wand and
guessed she might feel the same way and lastly, he conjured another glass of water and placed that on the table
too.

Harry changed into his pajamas, took a dose of Sleeping Potion, and climbed into bed next to his best friend's
fiancée who also happened to be his fiancée's best friend. Bloody hell.

She was your best friend before she was those other things.

That was true but he knew the argument wasn't going to work very well on Ron and Ginny. After fretting for a
few moments, Harry finally felt the effects of the Sleeping Potion. He waved his wand to turn off the lights,
placed it on his bedside table, and turned to face Hermione. Her lips were turned up.

He smiled. He felt the same way she did. Regardless of Ron and Ginny's reactions when they returned, there was
no one else he'd rather be here with.

Day Four

"Why does he hate me so much?" Hermione whispered to Harry as they walked through the fog behind their
guide, Zhihao.

"Because you kept calling him Joe," Harry whispered back, trying hard to stifle a laugh.

"I wasn't in my right mind," she said defensively. "I normally wouldn't be so rude. I knew Zh sounded like J so
nicknamed him Joe in my head, but I never meant to say it out loud. I was going to ask him very respectfully how
he pronounced his name when we met."
"That's what Lily did," James said from behind him, "which is why Joe loves her."

"We need to stop calling him Joe," Lily replied. "And I think 'love' is a strong word. I'd say he regards me with
begrudging tolerance instead of the blatant hatred he feels toward all of you. Hermione especially," she added
with a wink. "Also, the Zh doesn't sound like a J. There's a subtle difference. You need to place your tongue
further back in your mouth to—"

James pushed her but caught her arm before she fell over. "Enough of that, show off."

"Hey!" Lily exclaimed, hitting his arm. He caught her wrist before she made contact, then turned her hand around
and kissed the top of it. "You're not as charming as you think, Potter," she grumbled, with a hint of a smile
playing on her lips.

Harry smiled inwardly. He loved watching his parents messing around like this. This is what he always thought
love should be: easy and fun, but with the knowledge in the background that you'd die for each other, if you had
to. His heart ached again for his parents in his world and their awful fate.

Zhihao stopped abruptly and said something that made Hermione hitch her breath. Harry focused back on the
guide. "What did he say?" he whispered to Hermione.

Zhihao answered for her. "We walk on air." They had stopped at the edge of a high cliff and he was motioning
toward the space behind him.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, sure he was misunderstanding what the man was trying to say. Maybe it was the
language barrier.

Zhihao held his hand up to silence the group before they could ask any more questions, looking irritated and like
he got this sort of response all the time. "Education time. We go to forgotten city with dragons. People ask why
called forgotten? The way is tricky and only the Liu family—me, two brother, two sister—know the way. We pass
on to children. Others forget. They try to remember, write down, magic makes them forget. Lius are protectors of
dragons."

Lily stepped forward and asked, "We're going to be seeing dragons?"

Zhihao tsked and waved her away. "Yes, dragons. Lots of dragons."

Zhihao turned back to the cliff edge and, alarmingly, began walking on the air. When he had gone about ten feet,
he created a floating red flame with his wand. He turned to his right and walked another fifteen feet, then created
a second floating flame. "You come walk," he called back to them. "You walk straight to flame. Stop, look for
next flame, walk straight. Don't walk straight, fall and die."

Hermione had gone completely white. Harry wrapped an arm around her. "You'll be fine. I'll hold your hand."

Hermione shook her head.

"You come!" Zhihao repeated.

Hermione shook her head again. "Zhihao?" she called, hoping she had said it correctly. "I'm very afraid of heights
and walking on air like this with nothing under us for miles, um, is pretty much the worst thing I can imagine so
I'm wondering if there's another—"

"No!" Zhihao called back. "Too afraid to walk on air, too afraid to see dragons. You stay."

Hermione turned back to the group and shrugged. "I guess I'm staying. I'll be back at the house and you can—"

Harry threw her over his shoulder and began walking toward the first flame. She screamed and pounded on his
backpack. "Harry James Potter! Put me down this instant."

"You're not staying. You planned all this and you're going to see this Wonder of the World, even if I have to carry
you the whole way."
"Put me down!"

Harry stopped at the first flame and carefully placed her on the invisible path. He grabbed her face to keep her
from looking down. "Stomp your feet. Feel that? It's solid. And as long as we stick to Zhihao's path, we'll be fine.
You heard him, he's part of the special family that knows the way."

Tears stung Hermione's eyes and she leaned forward and pressed her face into Harry's chest, trying to get as much
comfort out of the familiar feeling of being close to him as she could. By then, Lily and James had joined them on
the path. Lily placed a hand on Hermione's arm and said gently, "You'll be fine, Hermione. Harry's not going to
let anything happen to you."

Hermione took a deep breath and leaned back to look at Harry. "She's right, you know," he said.

Harry removed his backpack and handed it to James. Then he cast a Featherlight Charm on Hermione with his
wand. He turned around and told her to jump up onto his back. She did as she was told, keeping her eyes
squeezed shut the whole time. Then, she wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him and buried her head in his
neck.

"Okay," Harry said, struggling to speak with the way her arm was pressed against his windpipe. "Can you lighten
the grip on my neck there?" She nodded and loosened her grip slightly, but not by much.

He grabbed the back of her legs and walked to the second flame, apologizing to Zhihao for the delay. Zhihao just
rolled his eyes and kept walking, taking a circuitous path that didn't seem to be leading anywhere.

"This is wicked," James said after a while, grinning as he looked down at the nothingness below them.

"I disagree," Hermione murmured.

"Just keep your eyes closed," Harry said to her.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

They walked for another hour before Zhihao stopped and declared that they'd arrived. Harry told Hermione to
keep her eyes closed as he looked around. As far as he could tell, they were in the middle of nowhere, with
nothing in sight but the cliff they'd come from far off in the distance. He looked back at their guide, who looked
bored as he said, waving to his left, "Magical barrier here. Hide dragons."

Harry squinted his eyes and could see a faint shimmering in the air. "Come," Zhihao said, walking forward and
disappearing into thin air.

Harry turned back to his parents. "Do you think this is safe?"

Lily shrugged. "We've already put this much trust in him, haven't we?"

"It's safe," Hermione confirmed. "I checked the Ministry's records on the Lius and they were clean. They take
their role as keepers of this Wonder seriously and love to share it with visitors, though you wouldn't guess from
Zhihao's attitude."

"Maybe his siblings are nicer," James said.

"I have a feeling he can see and hear us from the other side of that barrier, so let's go," Lily said, walking after
Zhihao. James went after her and Harry followed behind.

He paused just outside the shimmering barrier, took a deep breath, and walked through, relieved to find himself
standing on the edge of another cliff. The sight around him took his breath away. They were surrounded by what
looked like floating mountains. There were thousands of dragons of all different colors, shapes, and sizes flying
around them, from large, brilliant gold dragons to small black ones the size of Harry, and everything in between.

"Wow," he whispered.
"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Can I open my eyes?"

Harry stepped further onto the cliff so he was no longer close to the edge, then put her down and told her to open
her eyes.

"Wow," she said. "They're everywhere."

"Yeah."

"Look up there." She pointed to one of the floating mountains where there was a group of red and blue dragons
basking in the sun. "And there." Now she was pointing at a waterfall that was flowing off one of the mountains
where green, brown, and gold dragons were flying through the water playfully.

Harry nudged her side. "And you wanted to stay back at the house."

"That was truly awful," she replied, "but I'm glad you forced me into coming. Thanks." He was giving her a
strange look, so she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I like seeing you weak. Is that weird?"

"Yes," she laughed. "Very weird."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know why. Something about seeing the strong, impressive Unspeakable reduced to a
trembling mess anytime she gets any more than four feet off the ground is fun. Plus, I like being able to help you,
since it always seems to be the other way around."

Hermione stepped forward and pressed her fingers against his lips. "I think you mean strong, impressive Potions
Master. Don't go blowing my cover."

Harry smiled. Hermione felt it against her fingers and saw it brighten his eyes. And even though she was
surrounded by thousands of spectacular dragons, a sight that had inspired countless pieces of art, music, and
poetry over the centuries, she couldn't tear her eyes from his arresting gaze.

"Okay, you two!" James called from the other side of the cliff, where he and Lily had met up with Zhihao. "You
can stare adoringly into each other's eyes later. We have dragons to see."

Harry and Hermione jumped away from each other, blushing as they rushed to join the rest of the group.

Zhihao led them to a pasture about half a mile away, stopping often to move them along, since everyone kept
looking up to watch the dragons flying overhead. "You keep walk, we fly with dragons."

"Are you serious?" James asked. "We're flying with them?"

Zhihao ignored his question and kept walking up a faint path, where the grass in the field was pressed down
slightly. James nudged Lily and whispered, "You ask him."

She shook her head. "I want him to keep liking me. You heard him, we're flying with the dragons, what more do
you want to know?"

"I, for one, have a thousand follow-up questions," Hermione cut in, "but I think it's best if I don't think about it."

"How do you not know?" James asked. "And how have neither of us heard of this? All I've ever known about the
Forgotten City is that it's one of the Seven Wonders, but no one says what's here."

"I read that it had something to do with dragons," Hermione replied, "but the details were fuzzy. I suspect there's
something about the magic protecting this place that keeps people from writing about it."

"Will we remember it?" Lily asked, sounding alarmed.

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Hermione said.
Zhihao had stopped in front of several light brown, winged horses. "We fly on horses."

Hermione tensed again. Zhihao, obviously picking up on her fear, pointed at her and said gruffly, "You no fly
alone. You fly with him." He pointed at Harry.

She turned and gave Harry a shy smile. "Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Zhihao walked through the group of horses, carefully considering which one to assign to each member of the
group. Once everyone had mounted their horses, Zhihao leaped gracefully onto one of the larger horses and
turned back to the group to say, "Education again. Dragons no attack horses. You fly on broom, dragon attack.
You walk on other islands with no horses, dragon attack. You fly on horse, no attack. Need horse."

"Got it," James said, grinning widely, clearly in his element amidst all the risk-taking they'd done today. "Don't
get off the horse."

Lily leaned forward and patted the mane of her horse. "Hear that? Please, don't buck me off. I'd like to live to tell
people about this if that's okay with you."

Hermione stayed quiet. She had no idea how James, Lily, and Harry were staying so calm. She had her hands
buried in the horse's mane, gripping so tightly her hands were hurting.

Harry, who was sitting behind Hermione and had his arms wrapped around her, grabbing the reins on the horse,
leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Relax. I promise you're going to be okay."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, but didn't loosen her grip on the horse.

"Okay," Zhihao said. "Horses follow me. You do nothing, just hold on." He whistled and the next moment, the
four horses rose into the air.

Hermione squealed and squeezed her eyes shut as their horse accelerated upward. After a few moments, she felt
the horse level out and relaxed, but still kept her eyes closed. "Open your eyes," Harry said. He was so close, she
could feel his breath on her cheek. "Come on," he urged when she didn't listen, "you didn't come all this way just
to close your eyes the whole time."

Hermione peeked one eye open, then the other. Once she took in the sight around her, she forgot to be afraid. The
dragons were so close, she could almost reach out and touch them. Her heart jumped in her chest when they flew
past a massive grey one, but he (or she?) didn't seem to mind and acted like they weren't even there.

The horses followed behind Zhihao as he led them closer to the waterfalls Hermione had spotted earlier. Once
there, they hovered in the air and watched several dragons fly through the water, splashing the group as they
shook their wings. "This is the coolest thing I've ever done," Harry said.

Hermione turned to find him beaming widely. "Yeah," she said. "Me too."

He propped his chin on her shoulder and pulled her back against his chest in a sort of hug. "I know I've said this a
thousand times, but thank you, Hermione. I don't care what sort of magic is surrounding this place, I'm going to
remember this for the rest of my life."

"I didn't find this place. It was the other Hermione."

"We both know we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Stop being so self-deprecating and take the
compliment," he said with a wink.

"Okay," Hermione said, turning forward again as the horse flew toward the hovering island on their right. "You're
welcome."
After a long tour of the area, Zhihao led the horses to a smaller island at the end of what Hermione was calling
the "Floating Mountain Range," even though it was a bit of a misnomer, as each "mountain" had a flat top.
Perhaps it would be better to call them "Upside Down Floating Mountains," since the bottoms were rocky and the
tops were flat and grassy.

The horses landed in the clearing of a small wood with exotic trees and walked toward a pond at the edge,
dipping their heads to take a drink of water.

"We get off horses now," Zhihao declared, jumping down from his horse.

"You said the dragons would attack us if we got off the horses," Hermione countered.

He tsked. "Not here. Horses eat and rest, we walk to lizards."

"Lizards?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea."

Harry dismounted first, then helped Hermione down. They were joined by Lily and James, who were both
grinning. "That was brilliant!" James exclaimed.

"Yeah," Lily said, gripping his arm. "I never thought I'd ever get that close to a dragon."

Harry and Hermione, who had been even closer to a dragon than this, exchanged a knowing glance.

"And now I guess we're going to see some lizards," James said skeptically.

Lily pulled him across the clearing, where Zhihao was waving for them, looking impatient, as always. "I'd keep
an open mind," Lily said. "Nothing on this trip has been what we expected."

Zhihao led them through a short hike in the woods and stopped next to a natural archway made from two ancient
trees that was covered by hanging vines. Zhihao pulled the vines back and motioned for the group to follow him.

Lily took James's hand before walking through and Hermione wanted to do the same with Harry but thought
maybe she'd pathetically clung to him enough today. He took a step forward, then stopped and turned to her,
holding his hand out for her to take.

Hermione smiled as she placed her hand in his. He linked their fingers together and pulled her through the vines.
They stepped out into another clearing. This one had a small river flowing through it and was surrounded by tiny
dragons the size of Hermione's forearm.

"Fire Lizards!" Lily said as soon as they finished walking through the vines. "Fire Lizards, Hermione!"

"I thought they were extinct."

"I know! Me too. At least, that's what all the textbooks say."

"What are Fire Lizards?" James asked. Harry was glad his dad had asked since he didn't know what they were
either.

"They're miniature dragons," Lily explained. "It's an ancient species that historians suppose all of our larger,
modern-day dragons are descended from."

Just then, a silver lizard started flying around James's head. James gave him a charming smile and said, "Hey
there, little guy."

The Fire Lizard hissed and let out a small burst of flame that just missed James's eyebrows. "Whoa," James said,
stepping back. "He doesn't like me." James turned to Zhihao for help, who was smirking slightly.
"More education," Zhihao announced. The group went to gather around him as he reached into his robes and
pulled out four pouches, which he passed out to everyone. Harry peeked into the pouch and found what looked
like pieces of raw meat. He closed the pouch again and looked back at Zhihao.

"You right," he said, pointing at Lily. "Fire Lizard is small dragon. Ancestor of the dragon. You feed meat and see
if Lizard like you."

When the group stayed still, he motioned toward Lily. "Come. Feed Lizard." Zhihao motioned toward a smaller,
green Lizard standing next to a tree trunk behind him, which Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Okay," his mum said. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small piece of meat, then knelt next to the
green Fire Lizard. The Lizard grabbed the meat quickly in his mouth and swallowed it in one gulp. "Oh!" Lily
exclaimed, pulling her hand back.

"Good," Zhihao said, looking impressed for the first time all day. "Now get up. You next." He was looking at
James. James tried the same thing Lily had but the Fire Lizard didn't want to eat from his hand. He chittered
angrily before flying away. Zhihao huffed but didn't seem very surprised by this reaction.

Zhihao went to retrieve another Fire Lizard, this one blue, and it was Harry's turn. He had as much success as his
dad. Hermione, however, was able to feed the next black Lizard Zhihao grabbed.

"Do they prefer women?" James asked. "Like unicorns?"

"No," Zhihao said. "I'm man. Lizards like me."

"Yeah, but you're from the special Liu family."

Zhihao shook his head. "No man/woman, Lizards choose strength. Quiet power, heart." He tapped his chest.

Lily winked at James. "It looks like Hermione and I are stronger than you two."

"I knew that," James replied, "even before the small dragons confirmed it."

Zhihao nodded and pointed to Hermione and Lily. "You strong. Special. Rare for Lizards to like people." His eyes
lingered on Hermione doubtfully, then he walked to the edge of the river and motioned for Lily and Hermione to
follow him. "You keep feeding." He turned back to Harry and James and said, "You stay back."

James nodded. "Yeah. You don't have to tell us twice. We're not interested in getting flamed today, not even by
tiny dragons."

Harry and James took a seat on a log as they watched the girls feed the Fire Lizards. Hermione squealed when a
gold one flew onto her shoulder and wrapped its tail around her neck. "Oh my!" She held out a piece of meat for
the Lizard and once it had finished eating it, it cooed appreciatively and buried its head in her hair.

Hermione looked back at Harry and James, wearing a nervous smile.

"Good job, Hermione," Harry called back.

"I have no idea what I did."

"Well, try to remember," Lily said. "I want one on my shoulder, too." She reached out to a nearby bronze dragon
and tried to entice it onto her arm.

James leaned back on his hands and laughed. He turned to Harry and said in a low voice, "We may not have the
quiet Fire Lizard powers the girls have, but we Potter men have a special power of our own."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, watching as his mum, who had managed to coax the bronze dragon onto her forearm, lifted
it for him and his dad to see.
 "Brilliant, Lil!" James called back to her before saying to Harry, "Yeah. We're able to get remarkable witches,
who are way too good for us, to fall in love with us. You're welcome, by the way." Then he added with a wink,
"Also, impossibly untidy hair."

Harry had no idea what to say to that. He thought of Ginny and whether his parents would like her as much as
they liked Hermione. His gut told him no. That's not to say Ginny wasn't great. She was funny, beautiful, brave,
and talented, but she lacked that...resilience Hermione had. A quiet power that lived in her heart, as Zhihao had
said. Harry didn't think the Fire Lizards would have chosen Ginny if she were here.

Tears stung Harry's eyes and he wiped them discreetly while pretending to clean his glasses. When he turned back
to the witches, Hermione was laughing as a very small white dragon tried to climb her leg while the gold dragon
on her shoulder protested, clearly wanting Hermione all to herself.

Harry let himself smile at the ridiculous scene as he tried to push the thoughts of Ginny from his mind. This trip
was about getting to know his parents and reconnecting with Hermione, to an extent. He loved Ginny and back in
his world, where the circumstances were different, she was the witch for him. And his parents, if they had all the
facts and got a chance to get to know Ginny, would understand that and approve. He had to believe that.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: The idea of fire lizards was borrowed from Anne McCaffrey's Dragons of Pern series. The walking on
an invisible path scene was inspired by one of the Zelda video games. And the floating islands are from the
movie Avatar.

It occurred to me that up until now, the moments of reflection about feelings for the other person have been
coming from Harry only. In my mind, Hermione has similar feelings, but is better at compartmentalizing her
thoughts so has less of those 'huh, do I like this person?' moments. As the story goes on, I plan to crack that
hard exterior of hers.
 Forgotten City, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The sun was setting over the mountains in the distance, as the group returned to Zhihao's home. They were
relieved to find they could still remember their visit to the Forgotten City. Zhihao confirmed their memories of
the place would stay intact, but said they wouldn't be able to write down any details of what they'd seen or
magically extract their memories of the invisible path they took to the city's entrance.

They were about to ascend the stairs to their rooms, planning to eat some of the food they'd picked up in France
the day before, when Zhihao said roughly. "You eat with family."

"Oh. We don't want to bother—" Lily began.

"Rude to say no. Dinner at seven," Zhihao clipped before disappearing into the back of the house.

They went to wash up and when they returned downstairs for dinner an hour later, they were surprised to find a
crowd in the main room of the house. Zhihao, who already had a sizable family with four children, had invited
one of his siblings and her family over for dinner. The scene reminded Harry of Sundays at the Burrow, with kids
of all ages walking underfoot and several conversations going on at once.

"You Fire Lizard witches!" Zhihao's wife said when she spotted Hermione and Lily. The small Chinese woman
took both of Hermione's hands in hers and gave her a small bow, then did the same for Lily. "Welcome. Zhihao
like you." James snorted and Hermione beamed like she used to do in school when she was rewarded House
Points.

Dinner had just ended and they were currently in a sitting room at the back of the house, enjoying time with
Zhihao's immediate family. James was playing Xiangqi with Zhihao, which was a Chinese version of chess.
Hermione was on the floor by the fire, listening intently as the two middle girls showed off their collection of
dolls. And Harry and his mum were sitting on the sofa, listening to Zhihao's wife—whose name no one could
pronounce, and thought it best not to try—chatter on about her children while she rocked a baby to sleep in her
arms.

Zhihao's wife excused herself, saying she needed to put the baby down, and left Lily and Harry alone on the sofa.
After a few minutes, Lily wrapped an arm around Harry and pulled him into a half-hug.

"Have I said how much I missed you?"

He smiled. "A few times."

"Well, I did. A lot. And—" She dropped her arm from around his shoulders and turned to face him on the sofa,
pulling her legs up under her. When she spoke again, her tone was serious.

"Harry, I know we agreed to put the past behind us—and you've been so great on this trip—but I have to confess
—because I don't want you to find out another way and go back to hating us again—that the mission... I'm the one
who insisted they go to the Manor that night, rather than waiting and preparing for longer. I don't even think
Hermione knows that and—I obviously never imagined what would happen. If we'd taken more time, we may
have been able to avoid the whole thing."

"Let's just put it behind us," Harry said quickly, looking over at Hermione, who was braiding the hair on one of
the dolls while the two girls looked on. "I forgive you. And I missed you too."

A part of him wanted his mum to keep speaking, so he could finally learn the secret behind their big rift. It
obviously had something to do with Hermione and the war, but he was worried if he got caught in a conversation
about the past, it would be too obvious that he had no idea what Lily was talking about.
The smaller girl climbed into Hermione's lap and began playing with her curls. Lily leaned into Harry and
murmured, "She's really good with kids."

He rolled his eyes. "Subtle, Mum."

Lily smiled widely. "I've told you before, it's your job to have a lot of kids. Your dad was an only child, my sister
is...you know...and we only had you. So, you need three kids minimum to fill out the family. Preferably more."

"You didn't fill out the family," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But there was a war going on, and even though Voldemort went away, we always knew he
was coming back. I didn't think it was a good idea to have another kid. And by the time it was safe...I was too
old." She gave him a big smile. "No regrets, though. I rather like the one kid I ended up with."

Harry returned her smile before turning back to Hermione. She was sitting back on her hands while the older girl
tried to braid her hair and the younger girl, who was still in Hermione's lap, gave her sister directions.
Hermione was good with kids, but Harry already knew that. He saw her with Teddy all the time. His chest
clenched as he thought of his godson, who didn't exist in this world.

After a few minutes, Lily went to join Hermione and the girls on the floor. Harry watched his mum help the older
girl finish braiding Hermione's hair, then Hermione stood and sat in Lily's abandoned spot. "Hi," she said, leaning
her head back against the cushions.

"Nice hair," he said.

She smiled. "I know. It's unbearably crooked, isn't it? I'm trying not to think about it."

"My mum thinks you're really good with kids. She made a point to tell me."

"Hah! Subtle."

"That's what I said, but she wasn't trying to be subtle."

Hermione turned her head and Harry could feel his eyes on her. "You're sad," she said softly.

Harry just shrugged.

"Because your parents won't meet your kids?"

He nodded.

"But at least now you'll be able to tell your kids about them. More than before."

"Yeah, thanks to you," he replied, taking her hand and linking their fingers together.

"Are you sad about Teddy too?" she asked, looking down at their clasped hands.

His lips turned up. She was too good. "I miss him," Harry admitted. "And he doesn't exist in this world. That's
just so…"

"Sad."

"Yeah."

Hermione sat up on the sofa and turned to him. "As far as I can tell, this is one of the happiest worlds for you.
You have your parents, our side won the war, you didn't have the pressure of killing Voldemort, and you have a
brilliant fiancée," she added with a wink. "But still...you miss things from our world."

Harry just hummed.

"I think that's life," Hermione said, turning to face Lily, who was letting the girls braid her hair now. "You can't
have it all."

"No, you can't, can you?" He settled back on the sofa, then lifted their hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on
her knuckles.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. He'd just seen Hermione wince as she stood up from her trunk.

Hermione waved him away. They'd just returned to their room for the evening and she was about to take a long
bath, hoping it would help with the ever-present pain in her side.

"You look like you're in pain."

"I'm fine. I'm just sore. We've been very active the past few days and I don't think this Hermione's body is used to
it. Honestly, mine wouldn't be used to it either." She forced a smile on her face.

"Uh huh," Harry replied doubtfully.

"I'm fine," she repeated. "I'm going to take a bath, that should help, and I'll stay back tomorrow. I've had enough
of walking on air and flying around for a lifetime."

"Oh. About that. I'm going to stay with you, if that's okay."

"Are you sure?" The plan was for the group to return to the Forgotten City the next day, this time with Zhihao's
sister as a guide, which was one of the reasons Zhihao had invited her to dinner. "I thought you'd like the chance
to explore the Forgotten City unburdened by your pathetically scared friend."

Harry shrugged. The real reason he wanted to stay back was that he wanted to search his parents' room for the
letter the other Harry had sent them breaking their estrangement. He was sick of not knowing what their rift was
about. Also, he could use the day to study the photos he'd brought from the other Harry and Hermione's flat. But
he wasn't going to admit this to Hermione, since he knew she'd disapprove.

"Well, it's your decision. Um, I'm going to get that bath."

"Yeah. Okay." Harry grabbed the box of photos and began looking through them as Hermione left the room.

When Hermione returned from her bath, Harry was asleep. He was lying on his back with his glasses still on and
the box of photos laying open on the bed next to him. She hung up her towel and went to collect the box, smiling
when she saw the photo on top.

Hermione was in the Gryffindor Common Room with Harry and Dean, who were wearing Quidditch robes. They
were all holding Butterbeers and smiling under a Congratulations Gryffindor banner. Judging by their ages, it was
taken during their last year at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Harry had figured out earlier, based on the date of their graduation photos, that they'd attended an
extra year of school. Adding in what James had said two days ago, about Lucius controlling the school in Harry's
Seventh year, Hermione guessed it had happened similar to how it had in their world. She was likely forced to
stay away from Hogwarts that year, since she was a Muggleborn, and had gone back to complete her final year
after the war ended.

Hermione closed the box and placed it on the bedside table, then removed Harry's glasses and placed them on top
of the box. She knelt at the edge of the bed and let out a large sigh. The Harry in this time had returned to
Hogwarts with Hermione. She had begged Harry and Ron to return to Hogwarts with her in their world, hoping
they could recapture some of the childhood they'd lost, but Harry had refused, eager to dive into Auror training.
And Ron had followed Harry, of course.

Hermione lifted her hand and brushed Harry's hair away from his forehead, revealing the clear spot of skin that
was scarred in their world. A few tears fell down her face. This was the life her Harry deserved. One where he
was loved and not forced to grow up too quickly. One where he had fond memories of his school days, not
terrifying ones.

She wished she could give more than fourteen days of this life to Harry, but even that might have been too much.
Only time would tell. Hermione kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his forehead. She rose slowly, to avoid
irritating the wound at her side, then walked around the bed and climbed under the covers next to him.

A few hours later, Hermione shot up in bed, waking Harry instantly. "Wha—? Hermione?" he mumbled, turning
on his side to grab his glasses from the bedside table. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked at
Hermione, who was sitting with her legs up and her forehead pressed against her knees.

She was breathing heavily and may have even been sobbing, but he couldn't tell with her face hidden.
"Hermione," he said, placing a hand on her back. "You're safe."

She simply nodded into her legs.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

She nodded again, then said in a shaky voice, "A memory, technically. Godric's Hollow."

Harry cringed and shifted closer to her, wrapping an arm awkwardly around her shoulders. "That's a bad one," he
whispered. "I have that one a lot."

"Yeah," she said with a breath.

They stayed quiet for a while, Harry holding Hermione as she tried to regain control of her breathing. He wanted
to say something really good, but knew there were no words to make what had happened at Godric's Hollow that
night okay.

Hermione turned her head toward Harry and he shifted back so he could see her face. Her eyes were wet with
tears but she didn't seem to be actively crying anymore. "I'm sorry about your wand," she whispered. "I know
when I broke it, I broke your spirit too, and I never meant for that to happen."

Why was she focusing on his wand? After everything that had happened that night, that was what her brain was
choosing to fixate on? He pulled her back against his chest. "Don't worry about the wand. You got us out of there.
You healed me. I would have been dead if you hadn't been there."

Hermione hummed.

After another minute or so, she pulled away and settled back under the covers. "Sorry for waking you. Between
our nightmares, the aggressive travel schedule, and all the time changes, I don't think we're going to sleep on this
trip."

"We can sleep when we're dead," he said as he turned on his side to face her.

"I always hated that saying."

He gave her a sad smile. "Me too. It certainly came from someone who didn't have regular interactions with
death. I bet the other Harry would say something like that."

That made her smile. "Bitter, much?"

"Yeah," he said with a dark laugh. "Anyway, we can take a nap tomorrow while my parents are at the Forgotten
City."

"Okay."

Harry turned around to return his glasses to the bedside table and when he settled onto his back, Hermione said
tentatively, "Harry?"
"Yeah?"

"Can I come over there?"

"Oh, er, yeah."

Hermione shifted close to him, gripped the arm closest to her with both of her hands, then rested her forehead
against his shoulder. "Sorry," she said in a muffled voice. "I thought I was finished being scared when I laid back
down. I just need a few more minutes."

Harry sighed as he returned to his side and pulled her into a firm hug. "You apologize too much." He propped his
chin on top of her head. "Take all the time you need."

When Hermione was finally calm, she let go of Harry and returned to her side of the bed, leaving Harry feeling
bereft. "Thanks," she murmured, then turned on her side so she was facing away from him.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"You live alone. What happens when you have a nightmare and there's no one there to comfort you?"

She paused for a long time, then said eventually, "I won't be living alone for much longer."

"Right."

He was relieved she was turned the other way since he was sure the expression on his face wasn't good. Hermione
was going to live with Ron. Duh. Next spring, they were going to be married and would move in together. They
had even started searching for a larger flat. That was a good thing. Harry should be happy for his friends, not
struggling to swallow the knot that had unexpectedly formed in his throat.

"Hermione?"

She didn't answer. She'd fallen back asleep. It was for the best since he had no idea what he'd been about to ask.
He just wanted to hear her voice. Harry returned to his back and watched the shadows play across the ceiling.

It took him a long time to fall back asleep.

Day Five

The following day, Harry didn't waste any time sneaking into his parents' room across the hall. As soon as he saw
them leaving from the window, he rushed out of the room he was sharing with Hermione, giving her some excuse
about having to use the loo.

He found the letter easily, in his mum's trunk, and made a copy before returning to his and Hermione's room. He
felt a little guilty but reasoned his dad was one of the Marauders, so would understand, and Harry was just doing
this so he could better connect with his parents for the rest of the trip. Also, he was incredibly curious to fight out
what this big fight was about.

Hermione was sitting on the bed, reading through the other Hermione's planner, when Harry walked back into the
room. She was puzzling over an entry titled R&R that was listed at the beginning of each day. Hermione's first
thought was that it meant Read and Review, but that didn't make sense in the context of this Hermione's life.
Maybe it meant Rest and Relaxation, but that was a weird thing to put at the start of each day.

She looked up and saw Harry frowning as he read a letter. Odd. Had he brought a letter to the loo with him? She
was about to return to studying her planner when she froze. "Harry? Where did you get that letter?"
Harry didn't reply. He was caught up in whatever he was reading. Then, the real reason for him staying behind
today hit her. She'd thought it odd that he was giving up on a whole day alone with his parents, but now it made
sense. "Did you steal that for your parents' room?"

He waved dismissively as his eyes scanned the parchment. "I made a copy. The original is still there."

"Harry! That is a huge violation of privacy."

"I wrote it," he said defensively.

"No, you didn't. The other Harry—" She cut off when he finally looked up at her and fixed her with a stern glare.
He was wearing that serious expression that Ginny had coined his 'Auror Potter face.'

"You're injured," he said.

Hermione just shrugged.

Harry looked down at the letter and began to read aloud. "I'm sorry I blamed you for what happened to Hermione.
I know you never meant for her to get hurt and I know she wanted to help in any way she could. But when the
person you love most is forced to suffer every day, with no shot at recovery, you start searching around for
someone to blame. I hated that you went to great lengths to protect me but didn't make the same consideration for
her."

"That's what the fight was about?" Hermione asked, perking up.

"Don't change the subject. It says you suffer each day. Why is this the first I'm hearing of this? How bad is it?"

She put the planner on the bedside table and went to stand next to Harry. She tried to get a look at the letter, but
he pulled it away. "Answer me, Hermione."

"Just drop it. I'm fine. What else does the letter say? I don't approve of you stealing it, by the way, but it would be
good for us to know the details of this rift."

"Hermione," Harry seethed, annoyed she was trying to play this off as nothing. "When we were at the flat,
arguing about whether or not to come on this trip, why didn't you bring this up? You said we'd be found out, said
it wasn't fair to the other couple, but you never said, 'Oh, right, when I'm in this body, I have to deal with
excruciating pain and would like to get back to my pain-free body, please.'"

"It's not excruciating. I can handle it for two weeks. At least I'm not like the other Hermione who has to live with
it."

"I didn't know what I was asking of you when I insisted we stay! You should have told me. I deserved to know!"

"Right, and how would that have gone?" she snapped back. "I mention the pain, you grudgingly agree to go back
to our world, but once there, you resent me and proceed to punish me for the next few months."

"I would never do that," he countered.

"Yes, you would. I'm not allowed to disagree with you and stay your friend. You've made that clear over and over
again."

Harry shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what it is about me, because you don't do it with Ron and Ginny, but if I step out of line, you don't
hesitate to punish me for it."

"What are you—?"

"In Third Year, there was the Firebolt incident," she cut in, holding up her hand and counting on her fingers. "I
was doing what I thought was right to protect you, and you didn't speak to me for weeks. Then there was Snape's
book. Same sort of thing. I knew it was bad and you pushed me away for daring to disagree with you. Choosing
to withhold your friendship rather than sitting down and having a conversation with me about the issue."

Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, but she kept going.

"Meanwhile, Ron abandons you at your lowest point—twice!—and you welcome him back with open arms.
Where's his punishment?"

"Hermione. I didn't—"

"And you say you have no idea why we're not close anymore, but I can tell you why. I'm still on probation from
what I said to you at your Engagement Party over a year ago."

Harry stepped back, alarmed by the direction this conversation had taken. It was like that time in Auror Training
when the Red Cap had attacked him. One moment, the creature had been sleeping peacefully in a hole in the
ground and the next, he was trying to gouge Harry's eyes out.

"So, you asked me to stay in this world," she continued, "and I had a lot of reasons not to, the pain being one of
them, but I went with it because I didn't want to deny you. I can't—I don't know why—but I can't say no to you.
People say I'm strong, but for some reason, I'm not when it comes to you."

Before Harry could say another word, or even reach out for her, she marched past him out of the room, slamming
the door behind her.

Harry stood completely still for several minutes, replaying everything Hermione had just said. He felt sick and
went to sit on the bed, registering vaguely that the sheets on Hermione's side were twisted, probably from her
nightmare. That remembered their conversation the night before and how she'd apologized for breaking his wand.

He bent forward as hot tears stung his eyes. That was another example of him resenting her for something that
wasn't her fault, then treating her like shit. Fuck. She was right about him. And the Engagement Party, was she
right about that too?

He thought back to that night.

Harry and Ginny had hosted a large party at Grimmauld Place to celebrate their recent engagement. They
invited all their friends and most of her family. It was loud and crowded and fun, mostly, except for halfway
through, when Harry felt like he was going to suffocate and had to get away. He disappeared upstairs and hid in
the attic, thinking of Buckbeak and Sirius and wishing his godfather were here to help him sort through the
emotions that were pushing on him like an oppressive weight.

When he heard someone climbing the ladder a few moments later, he perked up. It must be Ginny. That was
exactly who he needed right then, his future wife. Maybe he could try to put his thoughts into words and she could
—

It wasn't Ginny's head that poked out of the entrance to the attic. It was Hermione.

At that moment, Harry was angry. It was always Hermione and for once, he wanted it to be Ginny. He wanted
Ginny to be the one to notice he was off, to see him slip away, and to guess accurately at where he was hiding. It
should be his fiancée here with him, but she was probably downstairs showing off her ring, not even aware of his
absence.

"You seem down," Hermione said as she took a seat next to him.

"I'm okay," he said gruffly.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"No."

"Okay."
She didn't leave, however. She just leaned back on her hands and stretched her legs out in front of her.

"You can go back to the party," he said after several minutes.

"I'm okay here."

"I'm fine, you know. I just—er—wish it wasn't just Ginny's family here, celebrating tonight." This was true, but
not the reason he was up here. That was due to something else, something he couldn't name, but he hoped this
excuse would be enough for Hermione. He should have known better.

"Yeah. Maybe that's it. Or maybe you're tired of being who everyone wants you to be."

"What?"

"Maybe you don't want to fight dark wizards. Maybe you don't want to speak at events and give interviews all the
time. And maybe you don't want to marry Ginny. But you do it, because you think that's what you're supposed to
be doing."

He was quiet. "Or maybe I'm missing the people I lost," he said sharply. "And maybe I'm sick of my best friend
always finding fault with everything. We get it, Hermione. You're perfect. The rest of us aren't but we're trying our
best."

"That's not what I was saying at—"

"Look around. The war is over. Why are you determined to keep the conflict alive?" These weren't Harry's words,
but Ginny's from a recent fight of theirs.

Hermione left shortly after, going back to her flat while Harry returned to the party and pretended nothing had
happened.

Harry and Hermione hadn't talked about that night since, and Harry avoided thinking about it as much as possible.
But he had pulled away from Hermione, hadn't he? But it wasn't because he was angry with her. It was because
she had challenged his version of happiness, trying to claim he wasn't chasing his own desires, but other peoples'.

That was a particularly unsettling thought for someone who had lived under a dooming prophecy for most of his
life. Hermione had pulled at the loose string of the "happily-ever-after" Harry was desperately trying to build for
himself. He was afraid that if he spent too much time alone with her, she'd pull again and unravel everything.

As the truth of her accusation settled in, tightness grew in his chest. Harry doubled over and wrapped his arms
around himself. After the war, and all that danger he'd put Hermione in. After what happened at Malfoy Manor,
almost losing her a few weeks later at Gringotts, and again during the Final Battle, he promised himself he'd
never let anyone hurt her again. Then look at what he'd gone and done.

Harry found Hermione outside, sitting under a tree on a hill. She was looking off at the mountain range in the
distance. When he was halfway up the hill, she turned to him and he stopped in place, waiting to see if she was
going to yell some more, or maybe hex him. He deserved both.

She didn't do either of those things. Hermione inhaled deeply, exhaled, then turned back to the mountains. Harry
watched her for a few moments and thought, bizarrely— as now wasn't the time for these types of thoughts—that
she looked beautiful. Her lips were dark and plump from where she'd chewed on them, her eyes were shining
from recent tears, and her hair was flowing freely in the wind.

He closed the distance between them and took a seat on the grass, leaving a few feet of space between them, just
in case. When she didn't immediately send him away, he started the speech he'd worked out back in the room.

"Teddy does this thing," he began.

She turned to glare at him.

"I know. It's a bad start. Just—bear with me. It gets better."

She stared at him blankly, then turned back to the mountains.

"Okay," he said, stopping to take a breath. "Teddy does this thing. When there's a new situation, like a visit to the
zoo or going to a new person's house, he'll be really good while we're there and as soon as we're alone, he'll lose it
on me. I asked Andromeda what that was about and do you know what she said?"

Hermione stayed quiet.

"She said Teddy lashes out at me because he feels safe with me. When he's around people he doesn't trust, he's on
his best behavior and once he returns to a safe place, he lets all that stress go. So, while it seems like he likes me
the least, since he's always yelling and screaming when it's just us, it actually means that he loves me."

Hermione turned to Harry and sneered. "When is this speech going to get better?"

Ouch. Okay, he deserved that one. Harry shifted and turned so he was facing her. "I'm like Teddy," he explained.
"I'm a fucking mess, you know that, and you know why, and—you were right. I'm awful to you and I honestly
never noticed. But you asked why it was you, and not Ron and Ginny, and it's—it's because I feel safe with you.
Safer than I feel with anyone else."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a tantruming toddler?"

"It appears so. I think I get stressed and bottle it up for too long and when I let it go, I choose you, because I know
you'll come back and everyone else, well, I'm not as sure they will. And it's not fair but now that I know about it,
I think that'll help. And you should tell me when I'm being an idiot and I'll fix it. I promise." He reached forward
and placed his hands on her leg. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered. "Please, forgive me."

Hermione looked down at his hands, up at him, then down at his hands again. She pulled them up off her leg and
his heart dropped as he saw the next movement play out—her placing them on the ground and walking away from
him. But she surprised him. She turned them over on her legs so his palms were facing up, then rested her palms
on his.

"That was really deep," she said softly, keeping her gaze down on their hands.

"I came up with it all on my own. Though, honestly, if I hadn't had that conversation with Andromeda recently, I
would have never figured it out."

She smiled slightly. After looking down for a while longer, she lifted her head and met his gaze. "I'm never going
to leave you, Harry. No matter how much you push, looking for that point where I've finally had enough and give
it all up as a bad job, you're not going to find it. So please, stop looking."

"Why do you put up with me?" he breathed.

She shrugged and looked back down at their hands in her lap. "You're my best friend and, I don't know, we're
meant to be in each other's lives."

Hermione started to pull away but he wrapped his hands around hers to keep her in place. "Wait." He moved so
he was sitting across from her. "I need to tell you something. Something I thought was obvious, but based on my
actions since—well, the entire time we've known each other—probably hasn't been."

Hermione nodded for him to continue.

"I love you."

Hermione inhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry that's a surprise to you," he said as he moved his hands up her arms. "That just confirms how shitty of a
friend I've been. You are one of the most important people in my life, the person I feel safest with, and it kills me
 that I'm not that person for you. I hate that you didn't tell me about the pain. I hate that you feel like you need to
guard yourself around me. And I—I know it's all my fault and I'm sorry."

Hermione dropped her head and Harry saw a few tears fall onto the grass. He placed one hand under her chin and
pushed it up. "I love that you love me no matter what," he continued. "You love me during those rare moments
when I manage to accidentally do something impressive, and more importantly, all the other times when I'm being
an idiot. I want you to know I love you that way, too. The bad parts—which, for you, are few and far between—
and the good parts."

At first, she said nothing. She just sat there watching him as tears slowly streamed down her face. Then, she gave
him a sad smile. "You're right. That speech did get better."

Harry leaned forward and hugged her. She buried her head in his chest. "How badly does it hurt, really?" he
asked, running his fingers through her curls.

"It's not so bad. Honestly, I would have put up with ten times the pain for this moment. I didn't know how to get
us here. I should have yelled at you sooner."

He leaned back and smiled down at her. "Yes, you should have."

She gave him a shy smile and started wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to wipe away a few tears she'd missed. "I think it's time for us to go home. I was
thinking we'd tell my parents, so they can explain to the other Harry and Hermione what happened and then—I
don't know—we can go back to our normal lives. Beg Ginny and Ron for forgiveness, set up weekly lunches and
dinners—just the two of us, and you can be pain-free again."

Hermione bit her lip and looked to the side, back toward the house. "Or..." she said after a while. "...we could
stay."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Oh Harry... so dense. At least he realized the error in his ways once she laid it all out for him. I think he
really was just oblivious, and the fact that Hermione waited until now to stick up for herself wasn't helping.
 Forgotten City, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

When Harry and Hermione returned to their room, they poured over the letter Harry had stolen, trying to piece
together what had happened between the other Harry and his parents.

"Where do you think they sent the other Harry?" Hermione asked after she finished her second review of the
letter.

"I was wondering the same thing. It says they sent him abroad, but who did he stay with? It's not like I have any
extended family besides the Dursleys, and I doubt they were involved."

Hermione hummed. "It's also interesting that I lived at the Order Headquarters with Neville, though not surprising
that they hid that fact from you. From the sounds of it, Neville didn't try to do the Horcruxes hunting alone, but
rather, involved the whole Order." She leaned into Harry. "You should have done that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It was Dumbledore who insisted I keep it all a secret. He was worried Voldemort would
find out. Maybe in this world he was less secretive."

"Or maybe he was just as secretive but after he died, Neville went and told the Order anyway, knowing he
wouldn't be able to do the hunt alone. In our world, Snape killed Dumbledore, so we didn't know who to trust but
in this world, it's unlikely that an Order member killed Dumbledore, so Neville would have had no reason to
doubt the group."

"This is sort of breaking my brain."

"I know. Isn't it fun?" she asked, her eyes bright.

Harry shook his head. "You're a swot."

She picked her hand up to swat his arm, but he moved away just in time, settling back on the bed and looking up
at the intricate molding on the ceiling. "I wonder what he's like," Harry said.

"Who? Neville?"

"Yeah."

Hermione went to lay on the bed next to him. "Me too. I want to ask about him, but I get the sense we're closer to
him in this world than your parents are, so that would be weird."

Harry turned his head to look at her. "Yeah, we're friends with him. I saw him in several of the photos I brought
from the flat."

"Right. The photos. We should go through those. Try to learn as much about this world as we can."

"Yeah," Harry forced out, then looked up at the ceiling and took a few breaths to clear the tightness in his chest.

How would Hermione react to that intimate photo Harry had discovered of the other version of them? Probably
very matter-of-factly. It wasn't a big deal. It's not like it was them. But why did the thought of reviewing photos
like that with Hermione feel so awkward? It was just Hermione. She understood what was going on here. Now
reviewing those photos with Ginny or Ron... that would be awkward.

Hermione was climbing under the covers and when she laid back down, she turned on her side to face Harry. "We
talked about taking a nap last night. Can we do that now? Then we can have a late lunch and spend the rest of the
afternoon going through the photos."
Harry nodded. He grabbed his wand and pulled the curtains shut, casting the room into darkness. Then he set up a
Silencing Charm, so they wouldn't be awoken by the occasional sounds of children downstairs. He put his wand
and glasses on the bedside table, settled back in bed, and turned to face Hermione.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to be okay?"

She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. "Absolutely."

Hermione closed her eyes and a few minutes later, her breathing evened out. Harry reached his free hand out and
touched the tip of her nose. When she didn't react, he let out a sigh. How did she fall asleep so quickly? Harry's
mind was running a mile a minute with everything that had happened today. From learning of Hermione's injury,
to their fight, to finally figuring out what was between the estrangement between this Harry and his parents. But
he should try to sleep.

The night before he'd been awake for two hours following Hermione's nightmare. He was knackered, but he
couldn't calm his mind enough to fall asleep. He needed some magical assistance, but had never learned
Occlumency and didn't want to use a Sleeping Potion, since those could become addictive. Maybe that's how
Hermione did it. Maybe she was using a rare Falling-Asleep Spell that hadn't been approved for the public yet.

Harry watched her for a few minutes. Well, at least one of them was getting rest. He looked down at his hand,
which she was still holding, and wondered whether he should let go. Would it wake her up? That wouldn't be
good. He decided to leave their hands alone and finally closed his eyes. He didn't end up sleeping but just laid
there, listening to the sounds of her breathing, until her wand alarm woke her an hour later.

It was late afternoon and Harry and Hermione were next to each other on the bed, lying on their stomachs as they
looked through the box of photos. "That's your third girlfriend in a year!" Hermione exclaimed as they flipped to
a photo where Harry had his arm draped around Padma Patil's shoulder and would occasionally turn to kiss her
cheek.

"I don't think the Beauxbatons witch counted. She was just my date for the Yule Ball," Harry countered.

"Still...we're just at Fourth Year. I don't understand how this Harry is so good with witches."

"Hey! I'm good with witches."

Hermione looked at him sardonically.

"What?"

"You nearly drove yourself into a panic trying to work up the courage to ask someone to the Yule Ball, your
relationship with Cho was, frankly, a disaster, and Ginny—you were doing the panicky thing again until she
eventually kissed you and put you out of your misery. I'm not sure that counts as being 'good with witches.'"

"Ouch. That was harsh."

Hermione just shrugged.

Harry nudged her side. "I think you're just jealous on the other Hermione's behalf. But she didn't do too badly.
She still went to the Yule Ball with Krum."

Hermione scoffed. "I'm not jealous. I'm just stating the facts."

Harry reached for another pile of photos from the box. "Let's keep looking, okay?"

"You just want to see how many more girlfriends you're going to end up with," she teased.
He smiled at her. "Maybe."

Based on the photos, nothing of note happened in their Fifth Year. Harry seemed to have stayed with Padma for
most of the year and they didn't see any indication that Umbridge had been in charge. Harry was thrilled to see a
photo of the Gryffindor Quidditch team with the Quidditch Cup, which meant he'd been allowed to play out the
season.

His heart jumped when he saw Ginny again. She wasn't in many of their photos, so he'd determined that they
weren't friends, just Quidditch teammates. That made sense in this world. He'd become friends with her during all
his visits to the Burrow but with his parents alive, he would have spent all his breaks in Godric's Hollow.

"Okay, that's the end of the year," Hermione said. "Ready for Sixth Year?"

Harry nodded as he put the photo of the Quidditch team to the side. "You know who's suspiciously absent from all
of these photos?"

"Neville. I know. He's been in the background of a few, but it doesn't seem like we were friends with him. And it's
weird because all the other Gryffindors are here: Ron, Dean, Seamus. We saw that he was the Triwizard
Champion, just like you were, so I guess we can assume Voldemort came back in the same way. Maybe this year
Neville was away for some reason."

"Do you think he was training with Dumbledore? Or already working with the Order?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's possible."

As they looked through the photos from Sixth Year, Hermione got a chance to tease Harry again, since he
appeared to have returned to dating around. "Okay. We're at Christmas Break and your total count for the year is
two witches, bringing your grand total to five. Do you think you'll make it to ten before the other Hermione forces
you to settle down?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but Hermione could tell he was enjoying this.

He was enjoying this, but it wasn't because of all the witches the other Harry had dated. Harry just couldn't get
enough of seeing this version of himself. One who was confident and comfortable in his own skin, just as his dad
had been in the memories Harry had seen of him.

He didn't look as arrogant as James had been, nor was he the center of attention, but the other Harry seemed to be
well-liked, played Quidditch, and still had Ron and Hermione as close friends, since they appeared in more of the
photos than anyone else.

"Look!" he exclaimed when they flipped to the next photo.

Hermione leaned forward to study the image of several Gryffindors playing in the snow. She watched Dean hit
Harry on the side of the head with a snowball two times before asking, "What am I looking at?"

Harry pointed to a couple in the background. Hermione squinted, then blushed. "Oh." It was her and Ron, kissing
under a tree.

"So...you dated."

"It appears so," she replied as a weird feeling settled in her chest. She'd assumed in this world, her relationship
with Ron had never happened because of the different circumstances—like how Harry and Ginny had never
become friends. But no, they'd been together and somehow, she'd ended up with Harry. Why hadn't it worked out?
Who had broken up with whom?

Harry, sensing her distress, leaned into her and said gently, "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm hungry." She got out of the bed and started rummaging through her trunk for the snacks they'd bought
in France.
"You know how you're always trying to get me to open up about what's bothering me?" Harry asked.

Hermione hummed as she grabbed a bag of crisps and opened them.

"That goes both ways."

She gave him a small smile as she leaned against the wall and popped a crisp in her mouth. When she was
finished chewing, she said, "It's just weird, you know? Seeing this life where I didn't end up with Ron. I'm already
nervous about getting married, since it's a huge decision and all, and I—I don't need a reason to doubt it."

"Yeah. I'm pretty much feeling exactly the same way."

She hummed.

"Can you bring those crisps over here?"

Hermione nodded and returned to the bed. They ate the crisps while they looked through the remaining photos
from their Sixth Year. Once the school year was over, the photos stopped. They had to fill in the rest with what
they'd learned from Lily and James and the letter. Hermione had gone to live at Order Headquarters while Harry
had returned to Hogwarts, clearly not in any mood to take photos. Then around Christmas Break, he'd been sent
to live abroad.

The next photo they found was taken in the spring of that school year and since Harry was back, they guessed it
was taken after the war had ended. Hermione was lying asleep on a hospital bed while Harry sat on a chair by the
bed. He was holding her hand and reading the paper and every so often, would look up at whoever was taking the
photo and give them a sad smile.

"That's it. We're together here," Harry said.

"Not necessarily. We're just holding hands. We do that now." Hermione flipped to the next photo. She had
bandages wrapped around her waist and Harry and Neville were helping her walk down a hall at St. Mungo's.
"There he is."

"Yeah. He looks okay. No major injuries or anything."

Hermione nodded as she grabbed her wand to check the dates between the photos. There was a one-month gap.

"You were in that hospital bed for a month?" Harry asked.

"I guess so."

She flipped to the next photo and let out a small laugh as she said, "Okay, so now, we're together."

"What?" Harry picked up the photo and studied it further. Hermione was sitting up on the bed, still with bandages
around her waist, and was holding a few Muggle playing cards. Harry was sitting at the foot of the bed with his
own hand of playing cards, smiling at her. Not much was happening in the photo, beside them playing cards.

"How are you so sure we're together here?"

"Look at your left hand."

Harry focused back on the photo and saw the other Harry was resting his hand on Hermione's thigh, which was
barely visible since Hermione's lap was mostly covered by a blanket. He was running his fingers along the hem of
her shorts and every so often, she would look up at Harry and give him a shy smile.

"I see," he said. "That is a bit intimate for two friends." He looked back at the real Hermione. "You're good at
this."

She just shrugged and reached for the next photo. "Oh. Here's Ron." Hermione was sitting up in the same hospital
bed and this time, Harry was sitting next to her with his arm draped around her shoulders. Neville and Ron were
sitting in chairs on either side of the bed and there were sweets and Exploding Snap cards spread around.

"He seems okay with the other Harry stealing his girlfriend," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah," Hermione replied. The Ron in the photo was smiling good-naturedly and wasn't staring daggers at
Hermione and Harry.

"Hmm." Harry turned to Hermione. "How do you think they got together? It's not clear from the photos."

Hermione bit her lip as she considered his question. Harry shifted onto his side and propped his head on his hand
as he waited for her response.

"Based on these photos, my guess is that we were close friends all through school, but never romantic. I think I
probably stood by and watched with amusement, and perhaps a touch of jealousy, as each new witch entered and
exited your life.

"Then the war hit in our Seventh Year and we spent the time apart. I doubt either of us dated anyone during that
time, or, at least, not seriously. Then, you came back after the war and found me injured. It may have flipped a
switch for you, seeing me close to death, and you realized how much you loved me. You realized that dating
different witches was fun and all, but that deep down, you wanted someone you could trust, someone who would
be a true partner for you.

"You stayed by my side through my entire recovery and I'm sure I sensed the change in how you were acting
toward me. But I would have denied it for weeks, afraid of the idea of dating my best friend. What if it didn't
work out? What if I was just one more girlfriend for you? But you'd wear me down, probably make the first
move, and then...once we decided to start something, that would be it."

Hermione blushed and looked down at the bedspread. "I should have spoken in the third person there. But—uh—
you get it."

"That was very specific," he said quietly as he tried to swallow back the lump in his throat.

Hermione shrugged. "I read a lot so, uh, I've seen how this 'friends to lovers' thing typically plays out."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." Harry was quiet for a few seconds, looking down at the photo of him, Hermione,
Ron, and Neville. "In how many universes do you think we end up together?"

Hermione moved onto her side so she was facing him, mirroring his pose as she propped her head up on her hand.
She let out a sigh. "Probably a lot. There are an infinite number of universes out there. So, I bet there are millions
where you end up with Ginny. Another million where you end up with me, Padma, Hannah, all the other girls in
the photos…" She waved her hand toward the pile of photos on the bed.

"There are countless universes where you die a virgin," she said with a grin.

"Oh no. Our deepest fears from the tent, realized," he joked.

"And maybe some others where you end up with a bloke."

"What?! No."

Hermione laughed. "I don't know. Maybe you're bisexual but have never given it any serious consideration in our
world, but if something different were to happen in some other world—some formative experience in your youth
—perhaps in the Quidditch locker rooms…"

"Hermione!" Harry kicked her.

"Maybe there are worlds where you end up with Draco Malfoy!" she said with a wicked grin.

"Ew! Take it back!"

"I don't know...they say there's a fine line between love and hate. There would certainly be a lot of passion—
eehh!"

Harry had lunged at her from across the bed and was tickling her side. "Take it back."

Hermione laughed as she tried to squirm away from him, but he was a lot stronger than her and was pressing her
down into the bed with the entire weight of his body. "I'm just stating a scientific fact," she said through her
laughter, "based on probability and—"

"Take it back," he repeated, smiling down at her as he continued to tickle her.

"You're hurting my wound."

He stopped instantly and lifted himself up on his hands. "Shit. Really?"

Hermione took the opportunity while he was distracted to Summon her wand and blast him to the other side of
the bed. "No, not really," she grinned as she pulled herself to a sitting position, keeping her wand trained on him.

Harry snorted. "Cheater."

Hermione just smiled wider. "They don't teach you to look out for tricks like that in Auror training?"

He rolled his eyes. "I could Disarm you in five seconds."

Hermione looked down at her wand and shrugged. "I don't doubt that."

She waved her wand to gather the photos that had scattered during their struggle and returned the half-eaten bag
of crisps to her open trunk, then went to sit at the top of the bed, leaning her back against the headboard.

She was still wearing a hint of a smile, which prompted Harry to say, "Please stop imagining a world where I end
up with Malfoy."

He sat next to her and she leaned into him. "Just one more minute. It's fascinating trying to imagine how that
would even come about."

"Why don't we imagine a world where you end up with him?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "Huh. Interesting. How did he get past the Muggleborn thing?"

"Hermione! No more talk of Malfoy! Okay?"

"Fine. You're no fun."

"You have a pretty skewed idea of fun," he grumbled.

She shrugged again and they sat there quietly for a few minutes, each thinking about the photos at their feet, and
how different the other Harry and Hermione's lives were from theirs, when they both turned to each other and
said at the same time, "Hey."

"Sorry, you go first," Hermione said.

"It's okay. You can go. Witches first, right?"

"No, really. I prefer to go last. What were you going to say?"

Harry looked down at her torso, then back up at her and she knew what he was going to ask before the words
were out of his mouth. "Can I see it?"

"No," she said automatically.

"Please?" He was giving her that endearing look she had trouble saying no to.

"Harry…"

"Come on. This is the focal point of the whole argument between the other Harry and my parents. If our roles
were reversed, you'd be dying of curiosity."

"Fine," she sighed. Hermione pulled two of the pillows over and laid down on the bed. She grabbed the hem of
her shirt but before she pulled it up, said sternly, "Remember our deal?"

"I know. I won't pester you about it and assume that if you aren't complaining about any pain, you're fine. Do you
remember your side of the deal?"

"Yes. I won't be a martyr and I'll tell you if the pain gets too bad." Hermione took another breath before raising
her shirt to expose her midsection.

"Fuck," Harry swore. He shifted onto his stomach so he could get a closer look at the wound. The center of the
scar, which was raised and oval-shaped, was on Hermione's left side, a few inches away from her navel. There
were countless, angry red lines emanating from the center and stopping at about six inches in every direction.

Harry leaned closer to try to make out the strange shape of the red lines and saw they were made up of thousands
of Runes. "What the fuck?" He'd seen this sort of thing on Dark Artifacts and knew the Runes powered the magic
somehow, but he'd never seen it on a person. He shivered slightly.

Harry lifted his hand and ran a finger along one of the lines, which was raised and eerily cold. He pulled his hand
away quickly. "Sorry. Is that—? Does that hurt you?"

Hermione shook her head. Harry's eyes, which were lined with tears, held hers for a few moments before he
dipped his head again. He ran his fingers along a few more lines, then swore again. "Does it hurt everywhere? Or
just at the center?"

"It's mostly the center. It feels like a knife is shoved in my side and won't go away. The pain sort of emanates
along the lines, then stops." She reached down and touched a bare spot of skin. "No pain here. But as I move
down," she moved her finger along a line that started at her ribs, down toward the center of the wound, "the pain
gets worse."

"Does it hurt when others touch you there? I've been hugging you and just now when I was tickling you—"

"No," she gave him a reassuring smile. "I really was joking. It actually feels better when I put pressure on it."

Harry placed his palms on her stomach, so he was almost completely covering the scars, and pressed down. "This
feels better?"

Hermione nodded. "You can press even harder."

Harry did so, then looked up at her and asked, "Like that?"

"Yeah," she breathed. She took another deep breath to try to clear the butterflies in her stomach. She wondered if
he could feel them under his hands and immediately blushed at the thought. She had her shirt pulled up and Harry
had his hands on her and it felt...well...it was safe to say her body had temporarily forgotten about the wound.
Hermione looked up at the ceiling, since looking at Harry right now was...too much.

Harry, who was also keen to avoid looking at Hermione, focused on the otter pendant on her necklace as he said,
"I can't believe the other Harry has to see this every time he sees her without her clothes on."

Great. He's also thinking about sex, she thought. Why isn't he panicking, too? "Yeah. I'm sure it's hard for her to
feel pretty around him."

"That's not what I meant," he said sharply. Hermione looked down and saw him fixing her with a stern look. Her
heart started beating even faster. "You're beautiful, even with this scar, and I'm sure he agrees. I was just referring
to the constant reminder that she's in pain and that it will never go away."

"Oh, right," Hermione replied softly, still reeling from his comment about her being beautiful, which he'd thrown
out there like it was nothing.

"Is it really incurable?" he asked. "Is there any information about this curse in the Department of Mysteries?"

Hermione shook her head and focused back on the ceiling, relieved to have something more pedantic to talk
about. "It's called an Everlasting Curse but everything I've read about it at work was theoretical. I've never seen
one in real life. In theory, you could unravel the spell, but you know how dangerous that is, especially with Dark
Magic."

Harry cringed as he nodded in agreement. He was remembering a recent incident at work where they'd tried to
unravel the Dark Magic on a cursed vase they found, which had led to an explosion that would have leveled the
entire floor, had Dawlish and Ron not acted quickly to contain it.

"You know, I thought that was the point of this trip," Hermione said, pulling Harry's attention back to the present.

"What?"

"I thought maybe the other Hermione had planned to see all the Wonders of the Magical World in the hope that
she'd come across some rare cure for her injury."

Harry perked up. "Is that possible? Are we going to see something on the trip that can cure this?"

"I don't think so. I poured through all her notes and it doesn't look like that was the purpose. It was just a trip.
With the primary purpose of reconnecting you with your parents, I think."

"Huh."

"Do you feel bad?" she asked.

"What? For stealing this trip from the other couple?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I feel a lot worse than I did at the beginning of the trip, now that I've seen how cool
these Wonders are, but...I don't know. The other Harry gets his parents, he doesn't have a scar on his forehead or
people stopping him on the street for autographs. He probably doesn't have nightmares and flashbacks and bouts
of crippling grief and—" He paused to sigh. "I feel a little bad, but he'll be fine. He can make up with them in a
different way."

"You're probably right."

"It's Hermione I feel bad for," Harry continued, looking down at the red lines peeking out from under his hands.
"She planned this whole trip but is missing out on it. She has to deal with the pain from this all day, and she has a
nitwit for a fiancé."

Hermione smiled.

Harry grinned back at her. "You could have refuted that last one."

"I could have."

Harry laughed and looked back down at his hands. "Is this weird? That I'm still touching you like this? Do you
want me to stop?"

"Oh, um, it's okay. But you can stop. I'm good."
Harry took his hands back and started rubbing them together as Hermione pulled her shirt back down. "Bloody
hell, my hands are freezing. Does that make you cold?"

She shook her head. "The cold just seems to go out."

"Huh." Harry grabbed a few pillows and put them down before lying on his side, facing Hermione. "That wound
is terrible but, honestly, I'm a little surprised it caused the other Harry to alienate his parents for almost two years.
I was expecting something worse."

"I told you it's easy to take your loved ones for granted and assume they're always going to be around. Also, you
and I are war-hardened. We know the difficult decisions that have to be made to win, such as walking to your
death without telling your friends."

Harry's chest clenched at the memory.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm still a little bitter about that one. My point is, the other Harry wouldn't have been like
that. He was sent away and the whole time, was probably desperate to be fighting and unaware of how lucky he
was to be out of the fray. Then, he came back and his best friend, who he was in love with, was terribly injured.
There would be a lot of guilt there and I can see how he'd be determined to find someone to blame, besides
himself."

"But why a year later? We know the war ended after Seventh Year but from the letter, the estrangement didn't
start until after he graduated from Hogwarts."

"I have a theory about that."

Harry smiled. "Of course you do. What is it?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say Hermione was behind that. I bet your parents told you there was an age limit or
something to be in the Order. But that obviously wasn't true, since I was there. And the mission I went on when I
got this injury was led by your dad. I bet when you first learned about the injury, I lied and said I got it from some
Snatchers, knowing if you knew I'd been on a mission for the Order with your parents, it would have driven a
wedge between you three. But obviously, you found out anyway.

"You probably thought their actions—putting a witch who was barely of age in danger—cold and manipulative;
similar to how people feel about how Dumbledore treated you. But—well—like I said before, we had to stop
Voldemort, no matter the cost."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as he considered her explanation. He couldn't imagine how it would have felt to be so
disconnected from the war. "You're really good at piecing things together."

Hermione shrugged. "Like I said I—"

"—read a lot," he finished for her. "Understatement of the century."

Hermione just smiled.

"Okay," Harry said. "You had something you wanted to say. Right?"

"Oh. Yeah." Hermione dropped his gaze and looked down at her hands. She noticed the engagement ring on her
finger and started turning it with her thumb.

"Hermione?"

She sighed and looked up at him. "It's about that night at your Engagement Party."

"Oh. We don't have to—I was in a shit mood and—"

"No. I want to apologize. And I want to explain—what I said—" She stopped to take a breath and shift the
pillows under her head before continuing.
"I didn't mean to imply that you shouldn't be with Ginny. I just wanted to challenge your decision because you—
you were—how to explain? You seemed dejected and it reminded me of how you were with the prophecy and all
that and I—I thought if you could, really own that decision, feel like it was yours and no one else's, you'd be more
content. Does that—am I making any sense?"

"Um, yeah? I think so," he said, trying hard to keep his voice even.

Hermione took another deep breath. "I also want you to know that I don't believe in soul mates. I truly believe the
Harry and Hermione in this time, will be happy together and I think you and Ginny and me and Ron will be
happy together, in our world. I think relationships are defined by more than souls, but circumstances and shared
experiences and—and all that. I know this is a bit awkward, coming here, being engaged to each other, but, I don't
know. I guess I just wanted to tell you that."

Harry was silent as he considered her words. He stood up from the bed and opened the window, mumbling about
stale air, as Hermione replayed what she'd said, cringing inwardly, since none of it had made as much sense as it
had in her head. Hermione was about to explain further when he returned to the bed and laid back on his side.
"Thanks."

"Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. I understand what you're saying and I'm sorry I didn't hear you out at the party, or at least later, when I was
in a better mood."

"Okay. Good."

Harry smiled. "I have a question."

"Okay."

"How did you find this world? Out of the millions of universes, why this one?"

"Oh." She looked down at her hands again, caught off guard by the abrupt change in conversation. "That's a really
good question. I'm still trying to figure that part out."

"Will you tell me when you find out?"

"Yes. I can do that."

Harry sat up and stretched his arms over his head, then looked down at his watch. "We still have a few hours until
they return. Do you want to do more photos or just—I don't know—walk around or something?"

Hermione sat up. "Let's walk but first, I have one more thing to say."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"When we were outside and you were saying we should go home, you said we should tell your parents the truth.
Is that—is that how you want to end this? By confessing the truth to them?"

Harry looked out the window and nodded. "Yeah," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. "I think we owe it to them. I'll
do it, of course, and I—I have no idea how they'll react but—they deserve the truth. Then they can explain to the
other Harry and Hermione what happened, and why they don't remember anything."

Hermione placed a hand on his arm. "I think you're right. And I want to be there with you when you tell them,
since it was my idea to bring you here in the first place."

Harry put a hand on hers. "Fair warning, I'm going to be a mess when it's time to say goodbye."

As he stared into her eyes, a few tears collected on his lower lashes. Hermione wiped them with the back of her
finger, then brushed his hair away from his face, exposing his scar-free forehead. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "I
wish this was your life. It's the one you deserve."
 She realized she was still stroking his hair and pulled her hand away, feeling a slight blush creep up her neck.
"But like I said last night," she continued, "there are things in your other life that are really good that you don't
have here. Teddy, Ginny, a lifetime supply of chocolate frogs."

"They never delivered on those," he cut in. "It was just an empty promise."

"Oh. Bummer. I take it all back then. There's nothing good in your life."

Harry let out a breath of a laugh. "Thank you, Hermione."

She smiled.

They watched each other for a long time, so long that Hermione began wondering if these lingering stares had
always been there, or were a new thing associated with this world. Maybe their bodies missed being close to each
other. What an intriguing thought. She'd have to add this to her notes back in her world.

She cleared her throat and got up from the bed. "Let's go for that walk. We've been in here all day."

Harry went to stand next to her and draped his arm around her shoulders before opening the door and guiding her
into the hall. "Yeah, but it's been good for us. Don't you think?"

They stopped in the hall as he waited for her to respond and again, she was caught staring into Harry's green eyes
for longer than was necessary. "Yeah," she replied. It had been good, getting all that out, but something had
shifted between them. She had no idea if it was a good or bad thing. It was too early to tell.

Hermione shook her head and turned toward the stairs, moving out from under his arm as casually as possible.
"Okay," she said in a too-high voice. "Let's go."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I hope you didn't mind the two-chapter detour for HHr to have some much-needed conversations. We'll
be back to exploring the Wonders, and hanging out with Lily and James, in the next chapter. Thanks for
reading!
 The Tear, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

On their walk, Hermione told Harry about the next Wonder on their schedule. When she was finished with her
explanation, he stopped and said solemnly, "We need to tell them."

"Yeah. That was my plan. After they got back today, so as not to put a damper on their visit to the Forgotten
City."

"Okay. That's a good idea."

He was quiet for a long time and she thought she knew what he was thinking. Her suspicion was confirmed when
he asked, "Are the different worlds of the dead connected?"

Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea."

Currently, Harry and Hermione were walking with James and Lily to the ancestral shrine they had discovered on
their walk earlier, while James detailed everything they'd seen during their second visit to the Forgotten City.

"The gold Fire Lizard missed you," Lily cut in, linking her arm with Hermione's. "She was chittering at me the
whole time, as if scolding me for leaving you behind."

Hermione smiled at the memory of the gold Fire Lizard. The unexpected softness of her warm scales as she
rubbed her head against Hermione's cheek, the way she vibrated, almost like Crookshanks, when she cooed. It
was a special moment Hermione would carry with her for the rest of her life, and she was glad the magic
protecting the city allowed her to keep the memory.

"Meiling gave us a much more thorough description of the Fire Lizards," James continued. "She explained how
rare it is for them to like witches and wizards outside the Liu family. So, if you didn't already know it, Hermione,
you're remarkable," he finished with a wink.

"She knows," Harry said. "I tell her at least once a day, usually more."

"As you should," James said simply, reaching for Lily and tucking her under his arm. "You're remarkable too.
Have I told you that?"

"A few times," she replied with a smile.

Since James had pulled Lily away from Hermione, she was free, leaving Harry an opening to wrap an arm around
her waist. She tensed slightly, but he didn't notice. He was thinking how nice it was to be close to her again. He'd
been with her all day but without his parents around, he hadn't had an excuse to hold her like this.

Alarm bells rang in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had a fiancée back at home who wouldn't
appreciate him embracing another witch any chance he got. He tried to justify his actions with the excuse that he
was just the sort of person who craved physical touch. It wasn't hard to figure out how that had come about.

This unexpected reunion with his parents had him in an emotionally unstable place and it wasn't a big deal that
Hermione was giving him this comfort. They were just friends. They were like this during the war, too. That
hadn't been anything romantic and neither was this.

"What did you two do today?" Lily asked.

Stole a letter from your room, had an epic fight, then an even more epic reconciliation. We tried to piece together
the other Harry and Hermione's past, had some varied conversations along the way, I saw her wound for the first
time, then learned I'd be visiting a Tear in the Veil tomorrow.
Hermione looked up at Harry with a look that said, "Are you going to take this one, or me?" He gave her a quick
smile before saying to his mum, "We didn't do much of anything. Walked around the property, talked, and took a
nap. It was just a much-needed recovery day."

Lily's eyes flashed to Hermione. "How are you feeling? Okay?"

"My injury's fine," Hermione replied, relieved to be able to discuss it in front of Harry. "I was just tired. I haven't
been sleeping well from all the excitement and today was just what I needed." Their destination was finally
visible up the path and Hermione gestured to the shrine up ahead. "Harry and I discovered this while we were
walking. Isn't it beautiful?"

Hermione pulled away from Harry to climb up the stairs into the gazebo-like structure. "Look at this detailed
work," Lily said, pointing to the railing surrounding the shrine where there were dragons of all sizes and types
etched into the wood.

"It's really beautiful," Hermione said, leaning against the stone statue in the middle of the shrine. As she spoke,
the air coming out of her mouth transformed into a tiny, translucent dragon, about the size of a small Fire Lizard,
which began flying around the shrine as Hermione's voice echoed a few times. "It's really beautiful… it's really
beautiful… it's really beautiful."

The Lizard, which seemed to be her voice, flew out into the open sky, flapping his wings swiftly, until he was out
of sight.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked.

Hermione jumped away from the statue. "I don't know."

"I think Ancient Chinese families, like the Lius, use these shrines to speak with their ancestors," Lily said, leaning
forward to study the statue Hermione had been touching. "Maybe you sent a message to their ancestors."

"How? By speaking while touching this statue?"

Lily shrugged and said with a grin, "It's magic."

James was reaching out for the statue when Lily caught his arm. "Absolutely not."

"Fine," he sighed, then turned to wink at Hermione. "If someone responds to your message, don't call them Joe."

"Haha," Hermione said sarcastically. Harry was back at her side. This time, when he wrapped an arm around her,
she didn't try to pull away but instead, leaned into him. She may have just upset an Ancient Liu Ancestor and
didn't mind having a trained Auror at her side as she waited to see how they were going to respond.

The group waited in silence for something to happen, but it didn't seem like anyone was going to reply to
Hermione's message. On their way back to the house, Harry gestured toward a tree, the same one where he and
Hermione had made up after their argument.

"Before we get back, we wanted to talk to you about something," Harry announced.

Lily and James exchanged a look, like they'd been expecting something like this, but Harry was pretty sure they
weren't anticipating what he and Hermione were about to tell them.

Hermione began to speak once they reached the top of the hill. "We wanted to talk to you about the next Wonder
of the World. It's—uh—unique and has the potential to be...upsetting. We wanted to warn you and see if you're
okay to go, or just want to skip on to the next one."

"What is it?" James asked, directing his question at Harry.

"Er…" Harry looked at Hermione, who reached out and took his hand before giving him an encouraging nod. "It's
a Tear in the Veil. A place where you can speak to the dead."
"What?" James asked, taking a step back. "That's not possible."

"It is," Hermione chimed in. "There are tears between the world of the living and the world of the dead in several
places around the world. Even our Ministry has one, in the Department of Mysteries, but it's a pretty thick barrier.
You can't talk to the dead directly, but only hear their muffled voices from the other side. There are spells you can
use to improve the connection; but they're really complicated."

"How do you know all that?" Lily asked.

"Oh." Hermione looked down at her feet, then cursed herself for doing so, since it was something people typically
did when they lied. She forced herself to look back up and met Lily's searching gaze. "I read about it when I was
researching this Wonder of the World. This Tear in Egypt is the thinnest of all—so thin that you can see and talk
to people on the other side."

"Merlin," Lily whispered. She looked up at James, who was wearing an uncharacteristically blank expression as
he looked off into the distance. Lily grabbed James's arm and lifted on her toes to place a small kiss on his cheek.

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand as his chest clenched. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"James should decide," Lily said when she turned back to Harry and Hermione. "He's lost the most out of all of us
and—well—he should decide. But, James," she turned back to him, "you can take the night and—"

"I'll go," he said, his voice uneven. "I want to go."

"Are you sure?" Lily whispered.

He nodded and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sure." James turned to Harry and Hermione and gave them a forced
smile. "Thanks for the warning." Then, he turned to the path and began walking back to the house without
another word. Lily patted Harry's arm and gave him a sad smile before running after James.

"Bloody hell," Harry sighed when they were out of earshot.

Hermione wrapped both arms around his torso and laid her head on his chest. "I was hoping they'd say they
wanted to skip it."

"Yeah. Me too," he replied, moving his arms behind her back and grabbing his wrists to hold her in place.

"We'll be fine."

"How are you so confident about that?" he murmured into her hair.

"We've been through worse together."

That night, while Harry and Hermione were lying in bed, each trying to fall asleep, Harry turned to her and asked,
"How do you manage to fall asleep so quickly? I can't turn my brain off. Is it some sort of spell or—"

She let out a laugh. "No spell."

"What is it then?"

"Hmm… I hadn't thought about it, but I have been falling asleep pretty easily on this trip. I guess if I had to
assign a cause, I'd say there are three reasons. One, I'm exhausted. I think the injury takes energy out of me
throughout the day. Two, I do Arithmancy problems in my head to keep from thinking of other things. It's my
version of counting sheep. And three, well—" she turned to face him, "—you."

"What? Me?"

He could barely make out the smile on her face in the dark. "You said you felt safe with me earlier today and it's
the same for me—even though you can be an idiot at times. I feel safe with you, hence, I find it easy to fall asleep
knowing you're just a few inches away."

"Oh," he whispered, unsure how to respond to that.

She turned onto her other side while Harry looked up at the ceiling. He was going to miss sleeping with her once
this trip was over.

Shit. That came out wrong. I didn't mean that sexually.

Sexually or not—that is a very inappropriate thought. You have a fiancée!

Harry wished he knew Arithmancy, so he could start running formulas in his head and block out these unhelpful
thoughts. He started naming every Quidditch play he knew, but that just reminded him of Ginny. So instead, he
listed the Dark Spells he knew. By the time he reached the end of the list, Hermione was asleep. He focused on
her even breathing until he eventually lost consciousness.

Day Six

The group was quiet over breakfast the next day. The night before they'd said farewell to Zhihao and his family,
and Hermione had also admitted about accidentally sending a message to their ancestors. Zhihao had laughed,
which was the first time she'd ever seen him smile. Then he said that if the ancestors believed her worthy—and
they probably would, since the Fire Lizards liked her—they'd respond at the 'proper time.' Hermione wasn't very
comforted by the thought, so tried to push it out of her mind.

Currently, the group was eating alone. Zhihao was on his way to the Forgotten City with a group of American
tourists and the rest of the house was still asleep.

Hermione had just finished explaining her plan to leave right at seven o'clock, when it would be one o'clock in the
morning in Egypt, which should ensure they got a good spot in the queue.

"Queue?" James asked.

"This is the most-visited Wonder of the World. For, um, obvious reasons. There will be a queue to get to the Tear
in the Veil and once there, we'll be ushered along after ten minutes, to give time for everyone else to speak with
their loved ones."

"Ten minutes is nothing," James replied, his voice dead.

"Yeah," Hermione said, unsure how else to respond.

Lily leaned into James's side and asked Hermione in a hushed tone, "Is the tear in the Veil in one of the
pyramids?"

"No," Hermione said. "There's nothing magical about the pyramids. It's actually a bit ironic. The muggles made
those in that triangular shape so the pharaohs' souls could be launched into the sky. But the whole time,
unbeknownst to them, the thinnest tear between the worlds of the living and the dead was just miles away,
hundreds of feet underground.

"Are there obstacles? Like those muggle movies starring that bloke with the whip?" Harry winced as he
remembered Dudley's brief phase of pretending to be that bloke, whip and all.

"Indiana Jones?" Hermione asked with a smile. "No, it'll be nothing like that. As far as I've read, the only obstacle
we need to get past is the Sphinx at the entrance, and even she doesn't question everyone."

"How do you know about muggle movies?" Lily asked Harry.

Harry's heart thudded. Shit. He'd done it again. Said something the other Harry, who grew up in the Wizarding
World, would have never said.

"From me, obviously," Hermione said nonchalantly, saving the day, yet again. She stood up and collected the
empty bowls of porridge, then floated them into the sink with her wand. "Okay," she said as she pulled the
familiar leather envelope out of her backpack. She pulled out one of the Portkeys. "This will activate in two
minutes. Are you ready?"

"Is anyone ever ready to speak to someone they thought they'd never see again?" James asked darkly.

"We don't have to go," Harry cut in. "We can still skip it." He gave Hermione a hopeful look.

"No," James said, standing up from the table and putting his backpack on. "We're going."

Harry gave Hermione a look that said, "Well, I tried."

She gave him a sad smile. They'd talked at length the day before about how much they wished they could skip
this Wonder, but it would have been hard to explain why they'd decided to deviate from Hermione's plan.

As everyone touched a finger to the Portkey in Hermione's hand, James turned to Lily and said, "You can't leave
my side the entire time."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she smiled back.

Harry turned to Hermione and mouthed, "Same for you."

Her heart caught in her throat as that familiar tug appeared just behind her navel and whisked them away.

The Portkey dropped them in the middle of the desert. There was nothing for miles around and if it weren't for the
moon, which was especially bright that night, Harry wouldn't have been able to see anything.

"Shoot," Hermione said as she looked up at the sky. "I wish the moon wasn't so bright."

Harry disagreed.

"Why is that a bad thing?" Lily asked in a whisper as she pulled her wand out of her robes.

"I need to be able to see the stars. The Corvus and Crater constellations, specifically."

"How fitting," Lily murmured.

"Yeah," Hermione said absently as she tried to cast a spell with her wand. It took her several tries to get it right
but once it worked, it projected a map of the sky above their heads.

"Whoa," James said, clearly impressed.

"Why did you say the Corvus and Crater constellations were fitting?" Harry asked as he looked at the projection
of the stars above them.

Hermione was chewing on her lip and studying the sky, deep in thought, so ignored his question, but his mum
responded. "They are said to mark the gates to the Underworld."

"How on earth do you know that?" James asked.

"They covered it in Astronomy."

James rolled his eyes. "Okay, then I'll correct my question to: how on earth did you remember that?"

Lily just shrugged.

"Hermione's the same," Harry said to his dad. "She remembers every little thing that enters her brain. I don't get
it."

"Oh, there they are!" Hermione exclaimed, as if on cue.

James's eyes sparkled with amusement. "They may be annoyingly brilliant, but we'd be completely lost without
them."

Harry silently agreed.

Hermione did some sort of spell to point them toward the space between the two constellations, which Harry
guessed was a modified version of the Point Me spell she'd taught him in his Fourth Year. James looked
impressed again, but Harry was past being impressed by Hermione's vast knowledge of magic.

She led the way through the desert, her wand held in front of her, and seemed unbothered by the fact that nothing
appeared for miles around them, not even a lone tree in the horizon or the sound of an animal. Harry's legs grew
heavier with each step and an uneasiness was settling in his chest. He imagined this was the land version of being
stranded at sea and didn't like the feeling at all.

He was trying to figure out the best way to bring his apprehension up to Hermione without insulting her when a
large Sphinx, three times the size of the one he'd encountered in the maze during the Triwizard Tournament,
appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh!" Lily exclaimed, stopping abruptly in her tracks.

Harry walked into her and grabbed her arms to keep from knocking her over. "Sorry."

"We crossed a magical barrier," Hermione announced unnecessarily. "I should have warned you sooner, but I
wasn't sure how much longer until we reached it."

"You're providing details on this trip on a very 'need to know' basis, aren't you?" James grumbled.

"You're just upset you're not the one in charge, for once," Hermione replied.

"You're the one with control issues," he snapped, his words lacking their characteristic teasing tone.

"Me? Need I remind you of the Portkey incident?"

"Okay, you two," Lily said, walking between them. "Hermione, we really appreciate your help but if you could
voice your thoughts more often, that would be welcome, since not knowing what to expect is pretty unsettling.
And James—" Lily's tone softened, "we all know you're stressed at the thought of seeing Sirius, but it's not fair to
take it out on the rest of us."

James sighed and muttered an apology to Hermione.

"I'm sorry too," she said quickly. When she looked over at Harry, he could tell she was embarrassed.

Harry pulled her into a half-hug and kissed the side of her head. "Okay, Hermione. What's next?"

"We need to get past the Sphinx," she announced, motioning toward the large creature, which appeared to be
asleep.

When Harry looked at the creature, he spotted a dark tunnel between the Sphinx's front legs. "So, she'll give us a
riddle?" Harry asked.

"Yes. We each need to stand before her and based on some criteria, that no one knows besides her, she'll either
admit you right away, or make you solve a riddle first. If you don't get the riddle right, you need to leave
immediately. I thought—um—meaning no offense to you and your dad, that neither of you should go last, since
you're not as good at riddles as Lily and I and—if you got it wrong..."
"We could end up outside alone while the rest of you were inside," James finished for her. "Makes sense. Let's do
me, Lily, Harry, then you. Sound good?" He gave Hermione a kind smile, obviously trying to make up for his
earlier outburst.

"Yeah. That's what I was thinking."

By the time they looked back at the Sphinx, she was awake and watching them with her large almond-shaped
eyes, wearing a mysterious smile. James took a tentative step in front of her and bowed his head.

"You may enter," she said in a deep, hoarse voice.

"Oh, uh, that was easy," James said. He turned to the rest of them and gave them a quick wave before
disappearing down the dark tunnel.

"That's me," Lily said as she approached the creature. She, too, was admitted without a riddle.

Harry, who was next, was not so lucky. The Sphinx's eyes roved over him and flashed with what looked like
anger for a second. Harry was about to make a run for it when she said in a calm tone, "I have a riddle for you."

"Yeah...er...okay."

He looked at Hermione, who gave him an encouraging smile, then back at the Sphinx, who began to recite:

"When I'm young, I am tall. When I'm old, I am short. When I'm alive, I glow. Because of your breath, I die. What
am I?"

Harry took a deep breath as he recalled what Hermione had told the group earlier. She said all the riddles would
be related to death in some way and that most riddles tricked the responder by personifying objects or animals
that weren't usually personified—whatever that meant.

Harry looked behind him and saw Hermione giving him a knowing look as she bobbed her head up and down.
Oh, great, she'd already got it. He recalled his time in the maze in Fourth Year and reminded himself he'd solved
one of these before and could do it again.

However, there was a big part of him that didn't want to solve the riddle so he could avoid visiting the Tear in the
Veil altogether. But his parents were there, and he didn't want to leave them alone.

"When I'm young, I am tall. When I'm old, I am short," he whispered. That made no sense, so he moved on to the
next lines, which he asked the Sphinx to repeat.

"When I'm alive, I glow. Because of your breath, I die. What am I?" she repeated.

"Fire," he replied, then added hastily, "but wait, that's not my final response. It doesn't fit the beginning." Harry
repeated the riddle again. "Oh! A candle!"

He wanted to look back at Hermione for confirmation, but was afraid of being accused of cheating, so looked
straight at the Sphinx and said, "My final answer is: a candle."

The Sphinx was still for a few seconds, then said in her deep voice, "You may enter."

Harry let out a small whoop. He turned back to Hermione and said, "I'll meet you in there," before beginning his
descent down the long, dark tunnel. Once he was completely engulfed in darkness, he lit his wand and leaned
against the stone wall as he waited for Hermione. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought of her in that vast
desert, all alone. What if another group showed up? She would be outnumbered. Why had he agreed to this order
of entering the tunnel? He should have insisted on going last.

"Hey there," her voice said from a few feet away.

Harry closed the distance and pulled her into a tight hug.
"Oomph. Uh, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Did you get a riddle?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice muffled against his chest. "Also, uh, I can't breathe."

Harry stepped back, reluctantly. "Why did we get riddles and not my parents?"

"No idea," Hermione said as she took her wand out of her robes and created a few floating balls of light, which
she cast several feet ahead of them to further light the tunnel. "Maybe she sensed we didn't belong in this world."

"Huh. How was your riddle?" Harry asked.

"Easy. 'The man who invented it, doesn't want it for himself. The man who bought it, doesn't need it for himself.
The man who needs it, doesn't know it when he needs it.' Can you guess?"

"Maybe, but I don't want to. One riddle a day is enough for me."

"A day?" she teased.

Harry snorted. "Fine, a year. What is it?"

"A coffin."

"Oh. How pleasant."

They both continued walking down the path, which seemed to stretch forever. Just as Harry was about to suggest
they call for his parents, or try to send a Patronus, Hermione's floating balls of light illuminated an entrance up
ahead. Harry saw two figures waving at them from the shadows. He let out a sigh of relief.

"There you two are," James called. "What took you so long?"

"We both got riddles," Hermione replied, her voice echoing in the tunnel around them.

"Maybe the Sphinx spared us because we're old," Lily joked as Harry and Hermione reached what seemed to be a
foyer of some sort. It was about ten feet high, covered in jagged stone, and lit by two torches on either side of a
dark doorway. Hermione tried to cast light into the doorway, but it simply swallowed the balls of light and
remained dark.

"We tried that," James explained.

"Okay. Uh, I don't know what to expect from here on out. But I assume we just—walk in."

"We're not going to accidentally walk to the other side of the Veil, are we?" Lily asked.

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads. Harry stopped when he saw the confused look on his mum's face,
remembering that he wasn't supposed to know what a Tear in the Veil looked like. "It'll be obvious," Hermione
said, about to step through the threshold when Harry rushed to her side and took her hand.

"If you think I'm letting you walk through there alone, you're not as smart as everyone says," he muttered.

Hermione gave him a small smile, which didn't quite reach her eyes, and grabbed his arm before walking through
the doorway. The feeling of the air around them instantly changed. Before, Harry hadn't noticed the temperature
but now it was the oddest thing. The still air around them was warm, almost stifling, as if the heat of the desert
was being stored in this room. But there was also a chilling breeze howling as it made its way through the
columns of the large hall.

As Harry focused on the sound of the wind, he realized it wasn't the wailing of the wind but rather, singing. Or,
more accurately, moaning, but to music.
"It sounds like the songs monks sing but...really, really sad," Hermione said, looking up at the ceiling in awe.

Harry followed her gaze and immediately felt uneasy.

"Does anyone else feel like the ceiling is going to cave in?" James asked from behind them.

Harry nodded, keeping his eyes up. He knew exactly how his dad felt, but couldn't decide why. There was a new
pillar every six feet, so why did the room feel structurally unsound? He was trying to diagnose the issue with the
room when his mum said, "They're crooked. That's the problem."

Harry saw it then. The rough stone pillars crowding the large room were slightly off by a foot or so, each one in a
different direction, which made the entire area look like it was moving. That, paired with the odd temperature
fluctuations, the heavy air, moaning, and strong smell of dirt, made Harry feel like he really was in the
underworld.

The hair raised on his arms and the back of his neck and he felt a rush of adrenaline enter his veins. But the magic
around them didn't feel Dark just...different. Like it didn't mesh with Harry's magic. Harry wondered if his magic
would even work in here, but decided not to try, afraid of what he might find.

When he thought it couldn't get any stranger, a pack of translucent cats crossed their path. He and Hermione
stopped at the same time. The cats were taller and thinner than normal cats and adorned with elaborate jewelry. A
few of them stopped to hiss at Harry and Hermione, then kept walking until they passed through a nearby pillar
and disappeared from view.

"Were those ghost cats?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "The muggle Egyptians used to worship cats. Maybe it was the same for the wizards."

"I didn't know a cat could come back as a ghost."

"Me neither."

As they made their way through the crooked columns, winding through an empty queue marked by a floating
rope, Harry noticed more cats lounging against the stone pillars.

"This is so bizarre," he murmured.

"It's certainly unsettling," Hermione agreed. "Maybe that's the point, to throw us off balance."

"It's working," James said darkly.

"Do you think the queue usually extends into this room?" Lily asked, pointing at one of the floating ropes.

"I think so," Hermione replied.

"Oh my. Imagine having to stand in here and wait…" Lily shuddered. "I'm glad we're just passing through."

"Another brilliant idea by Hermione," Harry said, tightening his grip on her hand. "Having us come in the middle
of the night, when it's not as crowded."

"I don't know," James said, doubtfully. "Maybe it would be less eerie if we weren't completely alone."

The queue ended in front of another dark doorway. Again, Hermione tried casting lights but the darkness
swallowed them up. At least her magic worked. That was something.

Before walking through, Harry turned to take in the large area they'd just passed through. Sweat was beading on
his brow and neck, then a cool wind blew by and made him shiver.

"Let's move on," Hermione said, pulling on his arm.

"To what? Something worse?"

She shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

The next room, with the exception of the monk music in the background, was nothing like the previous room. For
one, it was frigid. So cold that Hermione could feel it in her bones. She immediately cast a Warming Charm but
even with that, she felt chilled and instinctively snuggled into Harry's side. He wrapped an arm around her and
pulled her close.

This room was also brighter than the other room and less open. "Room" was a bit of a misnomer, Hermione
decided after taking in their surroundings. They were in what seemed like another tunnel, but this one wasn't dark
and covered in jagged stone like the other one. This one was covered in sparkling glass, casting colors and light
all around. Hermione could see the colors playing across Harry's glasses and as she watched, she caught the
image of a face.

She froze and looked at the walls again. "Oh my God," she whispered. "It's...people."

The pieces of glass that made up the walls and arched ceiling weren't simply colored, like she'd originally
thought, but had scenes playing across them like movies. As she watched one of two boys climbing a tree,
laughing as they went higher and higher, she could hear the sounds associated with the scene playing in her mind.

She shut her eyes and the sounds of the boys' laughter went away, replaced by the earlier sound of sad chanting.

"What are these?" Lily whispered. She was watching the scene of a family sitting down around a large table.
"This is another language. Italian, maybe."

"They're not all filled in with little movies," Harry pointed out. Hermione saw what he meant. About half the
pieces of glass were clear, while the other half had scenes of people from all different ages and ethnicities playing
across them.

Hermione watched them as they walked slowly through the arched tunnel and as she did, an ache appeared in her
heart. This was at odds with the pictures she was seeing, which were mostly happy.

"I think they're memories," James said, his voice uneven. "Of people who have been lost."

"Oh," Lily sighed, lifting her hand to rub his back.

Hermione looked up and took in the scale of the pieces of glass around them. There were hundreds just in the
immediate area, stretching from the floor and upward, all along the arched ceiling above their heads. And they
kept going on and on through the length of the tunnel. If these really were memories of people who had died, and
there was a grieving family left behind for each one… the enormity of it all struck her like a curse.

Hermione knew, logically, that people died every day. But she'd never imagined what it would be like to see a
visual representation of it. "There are so many," Harry whispered, his warm breath tickling her cheek. She simply
laid her head on his chest, unsure what else to say.

"I want to make one," James announced, focusing on an empty piece of glass at his eye-level. "How do I do it,
Hermione?"

Hermione had no idea. But since there were so many of them, she guessed the spell was easy and obvious. "Try
removing the memory just like you would before putting it into a Pensieve. Then tap your wand to the glass.
That's all I can think to try."

James did as she said and when he pulled his wand away, they all watched a scene appear in the glass. It was
when Harry was a boy, around five years old. He was flying around on a small broom while a young-looking
Sirius chased him around the garden, laughing.
James was sitting on the steps of the porch with Lupin, who called to Sirius, "That's one way to teach him how to
fly!"

"Helpful, Moony!" Sirius said over his shoulder, then to Harry, who was heading straight for a brick wall, he
shouted, "Little Prongs! Stop!"

Sirius cast a spell at Harry that stopped his broom abruptly, but sent Harry hurtling into the air. Sirius lunged for
him and caught him in midair, then James cast a quick spell on Sirius to keep him and Harry from crashing to the
ground, which ended up being Levicorpus.

James and Lupin burst into laughter as Sirius hung upside down in the air, holding a very confused looking Harry
in his arms. "Couldn't think of anything else?" Sirius asked.

"It was the first spell that came to mind," James said with a wicked grin.

Younger Harry looked down at Sirius, toward his dad and Lupin, then back at Sirius again before saying matter-
of-factly, "Sirius, why are we upside down? Is this part of the lesson?" which caused all the men to burst into
laughter.

Harry closed his eyes, unable to take any more. He felt a few warm tears stream down his cheeks and when he
opened his eyes again, his dad was watching him. "Those are some of my favorite memories of us all, trying to
teach you to fly. Though you didn't need it. You were a natural."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. There was nothing to say. How could he explain that he wasn't just
mourning the loss of Sirius and Lupin, but the whole series of memories that had never happened for him?
Because when he was five years old, his parents were dead and he was sleeping in a broom cupboard with
spiders, unaware of broomsticks and magic and that there were people in the world who loved him.

His parents continued down the tunnel and Harry was about to follow after them when Hermione pulled on his
arm. "We should make some."

"Our memories aren't from this world," he hissed.

"It doesn't matter. We'll pick an inconspicuous spot. It just feels wrong to come here and not honor the people
we've lost."

"Where would we start?" he bit back. "We don't have all day."

Hermione let out a breath, her large eyes sad and wet with tears. She stepped out of his grasp, leaving Harry
feeling cold, then crouched down and placed a memory in one of the tiles along the floor. Harry watched a scene
from the Gryffindor Common Room, when Fred and George had initially introduced their first batch of
experimental Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"That one is on Ginny and Ron's behalf, since they can't be here," Hermione said as she moved a few paces over
to another clear tile. Harry struggled to swallow back a knot that had appeared in his throat.

Next, Hermione created a memory from Grimmauld Place, before their Fifth Year. All the Order members were
laughing around the table in the kitchen. Sirius, Lupin, Moody, and Tonks were there, and even Snape made an
appearance in the doorway for a few seconds, wearing his characteristic sneer.

Hermione stood and turned to face Harry, tilting her head and giving him a tentative look. He reached for her and
pulled her into his chest, folding his frame around her. "They're perfect. I'm sorry I snapped at you," he
whispered.

"Tantruming toddler," she replied. "I get it."

Harry let out a half-sob, half-laugh and pulled her closer.

"I thought about your parents," she said, leaning back, "but your only memories of them are awful."
Harry nodded and looked over her shoulder at the memory from Grimmauld Place again, trying to keep from
breaking down into sobs as he watched a younger version of himself laughing with Lupin and Sirius at some
shared joke. His eyes flashed to the memory tile his dad had created for a second before he squeezed his eyes
shut.

This place, being here with his parents especially...it was too much. He should have got the riddle wrong and
waited with Hermione outside.

He tightened his grip on Hermione, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Hermione...I can't do this."

"I know," she said, scratching his back comfortingly. "It's all hitting you at once. I can't imagine how hard that is."
She leaned back and cupped his face in her hand. "But you're stronger than you know, Harry. You can do this and
don't forget, you're not alone."

He nodded and she saw him look at the memories she'd made again, a determined look growing in his eyes.

"I want to make one more," he announced. He touched his wand to his temple and instead of crouching down
once he had the memory on his wand tip, he reached up and looked at Hermione. She lifted him a few feet off the
air until his wand tip touched one of the blank tiles on the ceiling.

Hermione watched as Dumbledore appeared in the glass and said in a solemn voice, as a tear trickled down his
cheek and disappeared into his silver beard, "I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than
your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be
lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."

When her gaze landed back on Harry, and their eyes met, a wave of sorrow passed through her. It was like the
pain of all of the losses he'd been forced to relive today was finally bubbling over and transferring to her.
"Harry…" she whispered, then paused. She couldn't think of any more words worth saying.

Harry leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, trying to gather as much comfort from their embrace
as he could.

"Okay," he said hoarsely, once he'd finally regained his composure. "We should go and catch up with them."

They didn't have far to go. After the next bend in the tunnel, they found James and Lily waiting at the end of a
group of people. "We found the queue," Lily said softly, once Harry and Hermione stopped behind them. She
reached out and wiped a few tears from Harry's face, then gave his shoulder a firm squeeze before turning back to
face the front of the queue, laying her head on James's shoulder.

It took them three hours to reach the front of the queue and by the time their destination was in sight, a final, dark
doorway guarded by a ghost, Hermione had buried her head in Harry's chest, unable to take in any more
memories. If she had to see one more birthday party, wedding, family dinner, or dance. One more child throwing
their head back in laughter, another couple sharing an intimate kiss, more friends clapping each other on the back,
or a mother kissing her baby's head, she would dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Harry rested his head against hers and held her close as they waited, focusing on all the blank tiles since he too
had had enough of the memories.

The ghost at the front of the doorway motioned toward his parents, muttering something in a foreign language. "I
think that means it's our turn," Lily said, turning to look at Harry.

Hermione lifted her head from Harry's chest and was about to say "good luck," but just nodded instead. James had
gone stiff and was looking determinedly forward as Lily linked her arm in his and took the first step through the
doorway.

Once the darkness swallowed them up, Hermione turned to Harry and said, sounding panicked, "I don't want to
go. I never wanted to go. I thought there would be a way to bypass this but—but—there's only this one doorway."
She turned to find the ghost watching them curiously and wondered if he spoke English. She could try a
Translation Spell.
 "It's okay," Harry murmured, pulling her closer.

"No, Harry," she whispered. "We don't know who we're going to see. We have no idea how this works and I—I
don't think you should have to do this. You shouldn't have to talk to a version of Sirius who watched a different
Harry grow up. Or worse, what if it's your parents from our world? I can't watch you go through that."

Harry tensed and swallowed hard. "We have to go forward." He turned around, where there was a crowd of
people blocking their way out. He guessed they could make their way back the way they'd come, but he didn't
know if they'd be able to meet up with his parents. "Hermione," he said gently, looking back down at her. "I can
do this. You're going to be by my side, right?"

"Of course," she said, laying her head against his chest again. "Always."

Ten minutes passed, much quicker than either of them would have liked, then the guard was gesturing toward
them, muttering in an ancient tongue.

Harry gulped. "It's our turn."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Writing this was...ugh. We have one more scene here, then I'll be glad to move on from this Wonder.
But I didn't want all the Wonders to be happy. That didn't seem realistic to me.

The inspiration for the crooked pillars was one of the structures at the Park Güell by Antoni Gaudí. The
Sphinx was from 'Goblet of Fire', and everything else just came from my head.

If you're wondering if I have the whole trip planned out, the answer is no. As I write this, I only have the
next Wonder in my head. So this story is as much of a surprise to me as it is to Harry, Lily, and James. I'm
excited to see where this is going to go and thanks for joining me!
 The Tear, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry's heart drummed in his chest, blocking out all other sounds as he and Hermione stepped through the final
doorway. They reappeared in a narrow stone room. At the end, Harry spotted an archway made of what looked
like thin, brown fabric flapping in the wind. Suddenly, Harry was back at the Department of Mysteries, the day
Sirius had died, watching him fall into an archway that looked just like this.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, pulling his thoughts back to reality. "There's the way out. Let's just go."

Harry looked back at the Tear in the Veil. He could hear whispers on the other side. A deep longing spread
through him, causing his blood to run cold and his heart to ache. He shook his head.

"This isn't a good idea, Harry," Hermione said, still speaking in a hushed tone. "You remember the story of the
Three Brothers? Remember the one with the Resurrection Stone? We can go and meet your parents and—"

Harry pulled his arm out of hers, then took his wand out of his robes. Hermione flinched and Harry's heart
dropped. "I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured. "I would never do that."

Hermione nodded. "Sorry. It was a reflex."

Harry conjured a simple, wooden bench, then returned his wand to his robes and took a seat, gesturing for
Hermione to sit next to him. She took a tentative seat. "We're...uh...not going up to the archway?"

"No."

"Why don't we just go along then?" She gestured toward the doorway behind her.

"My parents will wonder why we didn't spend any time here. Let's just sit for a few minutes."

Hermione's eyes were wide and questioning. Even after he turned away from her, he could feel her eyes on him.
"What?" he asked after a minute passed with her saying nothing.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered. "I know how these Tears in the Veil work. They're calling to you and you—
you're fighting back. You're so strong, Harry."

Tears stung his eyes as he leaned forward and dropped his head in his hands. Hermione placed a comforting hand
on his back. "I'm just doing what you said," he explained, so she wouldn't go thinking he was too impressive. She
was the brilliant one here.

"Oh. That's a first."

He turned and gaped at her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's always you leading."

"Are you kidding? Have you forgotten how we got here? I gave you my magic, let you drag me into a giant
kaleidoscope, then blindly followed you around the world."

"Oh. I guess you're right," she said, looking down at her lap.

Harry placed a hand on her knee. "We take turns leading. That's what's so brilliant about our relationship."

Hermione's stomach turned. That line got her for some reason. It reminded her of a recent argument she'd had
with Ron. She'd been complaining about how it was always her doing everything in their relationship and how if
they were going to be married, they had to be partners. She'd said almost these exact words, "We need to take
turns being in charge."

Ron had argued that she didn't let him take charge because she didn't respect him. It was one of those arguments
that weighed on her for weeks afterward. Although it ended with a tentative truce, they had never resolved the
underlying issues.

Harry was speaking again and Hermione shifted her focus back to him, glad to have something else to think
about. "What you said about the Three Brothers and the resurrection stone, I tried explaining it to Ginny a few
months ago. She was trying to convince me to go back to the forest and find it, so she could talk to Fred and I
could see my parents again and I…"

"I understand," Hermione cut in after he was silent for several seconds. "That would have been a bad idea."

"Maybe you can explain it to her. She's still a bit sore about it. And at the end, before she stormed off she said,
'What's the use of marrying the Master of Death, then?'" Hermione winced. "I know, it was mean. She was
hurting and I know I can get mean when I'm upset too, but that one—that one hurt."

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "Ginny just has a temper," she said. "I'm sure she apologized."

"She did."

"I'll talk to her when we're back. Try to get her to bring it up, if I can, then—I don't know—explain again. If you
think it will help."

Harry hummed and dropped his head back into his hands, covering his ears to drown out the voices. Hermione
leaned in and murmured, "We can go now."

Harry took a deep breath and looked over at her. "I have just one thing I want to ask you."

"Okay."

"The argument about not using the stone, it's the same as the Mirror of Erised, and how Dumbledore warned me
away from it in First Year. Do you remember me telling you that?" Hermione nodded. "How is this—being in this
world—different from those two?"

Hermione turned her head to look at the stone wall ahead of them. "It's not. It's dangerous, being here, which is
why I wanted to limit it to just one dinner."

"Do you think fourteen days is too long? Do you think I'll be able to recover when we return?"

Hermione bit her lip as she considered his question. When she had her answer ready, she turned toward him on
the bench, pulling one of her legs up in front of her. "A lot of pleasures in life are dangerous, in excess. Take
drinking, for example. If you did it every day and let it take over your life, that would be bad. But one night, here
or there—or even a two-week binge—isn't going to ruin your life. It's okay to indulge every once in a while."

"I think—" She stopped and furrowed her brow, as if considering whether to continue with her statement.

"Go on," Harry urged.

"I think we need to take risks in our life every so often. I'm pretty risk-averse, you know that, but at work, every
time I've forced myself to take a risk, it's led to a pretty remarkable discovery."

She dropped her gaze and focused on her knee, then started pulling on a loose thread on the seam of her jeans. "I
think it's okay that you're here, as long as you get something out of it. Perhaps some insight into your life back at
home, or maybe just more information about your parents. But I—I don't know, Harry." She dropped her lowered
her voice and said almost inaudibly, "I'm just like you, a bit lost and trying to find my way."

Hermione took a breath, then plastered a smile on her face as she looked up at him. "My point is, I think you're
going to be fine. And when we return, I'll be there to help."
Harry reached out and touched her chin, then traced his fingers along the line of her jaw. He could tell in her eyes
there was something else; something she was leaving out. "What aren't you telling me?"

She tried to drop her head, but he grabbed her chin and tilted her face back up.

"Since when are you so intuitive?" she whispered.

"I have my moments."

"I'll tell you later," she said, getting up from the bench. "Let's go. Our time is almost up, anyway."

"When later? Today?"

"Sure."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he warned as he rose and Vanished the bench with his wand.

"I know you will."

Harry went to the exit and held his hand out to her. "Okay. Ready?"

"Ready to see the sky again and remember that there are other things in the world besides death? Absolutely."

The tunnel, which was dimly lit by torches every few feet, twisted upward as they climbed several flights of
shallow, stone stairs. They passed a few ghost cats as they walked, curled up in nooks carved into the walls. Some
of the cats mewled at them, some hissed, but most of them just ignored Harry and Hermione.

Harry was trying to reconcile the amount of climbing they were doing with the number of feet they'd descended
to get to the Tear in the Veil, and it wasn't matching up. He stopped to give Hermione a chance to catch her
breath. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes darting to her midsection.

She leaned her back against the wall and pressed on her wound. The next moment, Harry was next to her,
pressing his palm against the wound as well. "Shit. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she rasped, then stopped to take a few deep breaths.

Harry watched his hand rise and fall at each inhale and exhale. "I'm not sure how much farther we have," he
whispered. "It seems like we've climbed much higher than we descended earlier."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I was noticing that. I saw hills around the Sphinx. I think maybe we'll be let out at the
top of one of them. And soon, too. The air is clearer and that dirt smell is almost completely gone."

Harry took a breath and let it out slowly. She was right about the air. He turned back to her and propped his free
hand up on the wall behind her head, then pressed against her wound a little harder. "You're really observant, you
know that? You could have been an Auror."

She let out a laugh. "You're forgetting my tendency to lose my head in a crisis."

"I don't know about that. You got us out of Godric's Hollow and had the presence of mind to cast that Stinging
Jinx when the Snatchers were surrounding us. I think you outgrew that 'there's no wood!' phase."

She laughed again and Harry felt it against his hand. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm feeling better. We can keep
going."

"Are you sure?" he asked, studying her eyes for signs of pain as he slowly pulled his hand away.

"Yes. I'm good, really." She gave his shoulder a gentle nudge, to push him away so she could pull herself off the
wall.
After another fifty feet, they felt a cool breeze and determined they must be close, but the tunnel looked like it
went on forever. Then, abruptly, they were outside, standing at the top of a sandy hill under the bright moon.

"What?" Harry asked, looking around. There was the Sphinx, off in the distance on his right and on his left—

"Alarming, I know," his mum said. She was standing in the crook of his dad's arm.

"Where's the—?" Harry looked around but there was no sign of the tunnel.

"Same happened for us," James said. "Just when we thought the tunnel would never end and we were going to
have to spend the rest of our lives climbing stairs, we appeared out here."

Harry's mum stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you? How was your...visit?"

"Oh. Fine. Good. I mean, sad. Well, it's hard to explain." So please don't ask me to, he added in his mind. Harry's
eyes drifted toward his dad, who was focused on a spot behind Harry's head, his eyes haunted.

"Same for us," James said, his gaze still trained on something in the distance. "Good, sad...all of it. I could have
stayed there all day."

"Yeah," Lily said, hugging James's middle. "But we agreed, as we were walking out, that it's good they
implemented the time limit. You could waste away in there, reliving old times, and forget to enjoy the present."

"Yeah," James sighed, forcing a smile onto his face. He took a deep breath and checked his watch. "It's only five
in the morning. What are we meant to be doing for the rest of the day?"

"I thought we'd set up our tent, perhaps take a nap, then explore the magical parts of Cairo," Hermione said. "Our
Portkey to the next destination, which is in South America, leaves around lunchtime tomorrow. We have another
time change, five hours this time, so we don't need to leave too early."

Just then, the middle-aged African couple who had been standing behind Harry and Hermione in the queue
popped into sight. They jumped slightly, then gave the group a solemn nod before Disapparating.

"Shall we go?" Lily asked.

"Yeah." Hermione reached into her bag and found the notes with the coordinates for the oasis they were meant to
camp at. A few minutes later, they all appeared next to a large lake that was surrounded by palm trees and
glittering in the moonlight. There were already a few tents scattered around the area. They walked until they
found a private spot, next to one of the larger trees.

As they worked to set up the campsite, they were all quiet and somber, but no one more so than James. He was
the first to disappear into his room, leaving Lily to work out a plan with Harry and Hermione. They'd nap no
more than two hours, so as not to get too out of sync with their current time zone, then meet up at eight in the
kitchen of the tent for a second breakfast before heading to Cairo.

Both Harry and Hermione slept restlessly, each plagued by their memories from the Temple of Death, as Harry
had taken to calling the place in his mind. About an hour into their nap, he turned to Hermione in the dark and
whispered, "Are you asleep?"

"No," she whispered back, her eyes still closed.

"Me neither."

"Yeah. I gathered that." She turned on her side to face him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"Do you think my dad's going to be okay?"

"Yes. I think he just needs a little time to recover."

"I wish I could help him. He was watching me expectantly, like, waiting for me to go talk to him or something. I
think the other Harry would have seen Sirius too, and maybe they'd bond about it. But me, well, I can't comfort
him."

She reached out and took his hand. "He has your mum, so it's not like he's alone."

"Yeah." Harry looked down at their hands, then back up at her. "How are you feeling? We've been focusing on me
all day, but you lost friends too."

"I'm okay. I'm more worried about you."

"That's ironic because I'm lying over here worrying about you."

"I told you, the wound's fine."

"Not the wound. Everything else. What you were saying when we were next to the Veil, about feeling lost. And
the thing you said you'd tell me later."

"I'm still planning to tell you, Harry. Just not now." She let go of his hand and shifted onto her back. "I'm going to
try to sleep for this last hour. Is that okay? Or do you want me to stay up with you?"

"No. I'm good. Just promise me you're okay."

"I'm okay."

"Are you lying?"

"No. Now please, shut up," she whispered.

"Okay. I'm just going to lie here and watch you sleep until the wand alarm goes off," he teased.

"Creepy," she smiled, but it didn't keep her from closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep a few minutes later.

Harry shifted closer to her, until he could feel her warmth and smell the floral scent of her shampoo. He closed
his eyes and after a few minutes, finally managed to fall asleep.

A little over an hour later, Hermione stepped into the hallway between the two bedrooms of the tent and walked
over to the room with the shower. She sighed when she saw the flap tied closed. Harry must still be in there. He
took a surprising amount of time to get ready, especially when you considered that he clearly never bothered to do
anything with his hair. Hermione was walking back to her room when Lily peeked her head out into the hall and
whispered, "Psst. Hermione."

"Oh. Hi, Lily."

Lily tied off the flap to her bedroom and went to join Hermione in the hall. "James and I are going to skip Cairo
today, okay? We could use the day to recover."

"Oh, um, okay. Do you want us to stay too?"

"No. You go on and we'll stay back. Like you and Harry did yesterday."

"Yeah. Makes sense. We've been going non-stop for the past few days."

"Right." Lily reached out and ran her fingers through Hermione's hair. "That last Wonder was a lot," she
whispered, keeping her eyes on Hermione's curls.

Hermione grabbed Lily's hand and squeezed it. "How are you? And how is James? I assume he saw Sirius?"
Lily nodded, her eyes focused on the hall behind Hermione. "It was...like he was really there. He was laughing
and joking, just like always and—well, you'll know what it was like. I think James had this high during it, seeing
his best friend after all this time, but then Sirius left and it's like we've lost him all over again." Lily looked at
Hermione and her eyes were so sad, and so similar to Harry's, that Hermione's chest tightened.

"James wants to go back to the Veil," Lily continued, "but he's fighting it."

"I'm so sorry, Lily. I should have known. We should have skipped this one."

"Don't be silly. It was—really something. I'll remember it forever. James just needs the day to recover. I'm sure
he'll be back to himself by tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"Hermione. Can I ask for a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you talk to Harry about James? And maybe nudge him to talk to his dad later today? They had a unique
relationship with Sirius, one I didn't share, and I know it would mean a lot to James if he could talk to Harry
about how he's feeling."

Hermione stiffened. "I'll, uh, see what I can do," she forced out, struggling to keep her voice even.

"Okay, dear," Lily said, patting her arm before turning back to her room. Hermione just stood in the center of the
hall, trying to figure out how much of this conversation she was going to tell Harry, when Lily said over her
shoulder, "It's just Harry in there, not one of us, so you don't have to linger outside."

It took Hermione a few seconds to catch her meaning. Right. Harry was in there, finished with his shower, since
she couldn't hear the water running, and was either changing or getting ready in front of the sink. As his fiancée,
who lived with him, she shouldn't have any qualms about walking in and starting her shower.

"Right," Hermione said awkwardly, looking down at the towel she had draped over her arm as she felt a warm
blush creep up her neck.

Lily gently kicked the side of her leg and said playfully, "I know you have sex, dear. Especially since I was the
one who taught you how to brew a Contraceptive Potion."

Hermione could feel her blush deepen. Had the other Hermione really gone to Lily for that? She got the sense
Lily was her magical mother in this world, sort of how Molly was in the other world, but Hermione would have
never reached out to Molly about magical methods of contraception—and not just because Molly probably wasn't
a very reliable source on the topic, based on the number of kids she'd ended up with.

"You're cute," Lily laughed, reaching out to pat Hermione on the head. "It could have been worse. Do you know
who I had to ask? McGonagall."

Hermione winced.

"I know. They need to add books in the library about it for us Muggleborns who can't just ask their mum. But I
guess that wouldn't have done much for you, since you weren't at Hogwarts. But I was happy to help. Anyway, I
can tell you hate this conversation, so I'll leave you alone."

Hermione froze as the implication of Lily's statement took form in her brain. She'd had sex with someone besides
Harry, because he hadn't been at Headquarters. Huh, interesting. Who was it? The only other student who she
knew for sure had lived there was Neville. Had it been him? It was strange to think of. Hermione snapped back to
the present, where Lily was watching her expectantly.

Hermione took a breath and wrapped her hand around the edge of the flap covering the shower room, then turned
to give Lily a nod over her shoulder. She let out a sigh of relief when Lily disappeared back into her room. Once
Lily was out of sight, Hermione pulled her hand away from the tent flap.

The next moment, Harry opened the flap, wearing nothing but a towel, and poked his head into the hall. "What's
up? I saw you reaching in here."

"No, I wasn't reaching," she hissed.

Hermione looked over at Lily and James's room, then back at Harry. He was shirtless—naked, actually, under the
towel. His green eyes were especially startling, probably because he wasn't wearing his glasses, his hair was
damp and messier than usual, standing up in all different directions, and he was only wearing a towel. You already
said that one.

"It was nothing," she whispered. "I'll be back in the room."

Harry grabbed her arm. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Harry, we shouldn't do this out here," she whispered back. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and
turned her head to see the flap to James and Lily's room flutter. Hermione put her hand on Harry's chest and
pushed him back into the small shower room, then tied the flap closed behind her.

As she stood before Harry, taking in his appearance, a warmth spread through her, unrelated to the steam in the
room leftover from his shower.

Her eyes automatically landed on his chest, which was lean and muscular, with a thin layer of black hair across
the top. She forced her gaze upward and focused on his face, half of which was clean-shaven, while the rest was
darkened with a shadow of stubble.

"Sorry to interrupt your shaving," she said, speaking higher than normal and hating herself for it. Calm down,
Hermione.

"What's going on?" he asked, leaning against the sink behind him as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Her eyes drifted down, but she pulled them back to his face. "It was your mum. She, uh, was telling me that she
and your dad were going to stay here while we go to Cairo."

"Oh. Are they okay?"

"Yes. Just a little shaken from their meeting with Sirius. She confirmed that's who they saw." Hermione was about
to mention Lily's request that Harry speak with James, but decided to save that for later, when Harry was wearing
clothes.

"And then you decided to burst in here to give me this urgent piece of information?" he asked, his green eyes
shining with amusement.

Hermione sighed and explained the awkward conversation with Lily that had led her here.

"Oh," he said, looking horrified.

Lovely. The thought of having sex with you disgusts him.

Why do you care?!

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You slept with someone at Headquarters? Who?"

"It wasn't me!" she said defensively. "It was the other Hermione. And I have no idea who it was, but this does add
some color to the story. The other Harry would have been especially resentful to his parents for keeping him away
from Headquarters if it led to the other Hermione shagging someone else."

"The plot thickens..." he said, looking distantly at the wall behind her. "Anyway," he continued with a shrug, "my
mum's certainly more progressive than Molly, who still thinks Ginny lives with you."
"You don't have to tell me where Molly falls on the progressive scale," Hermione grumbled, recalling a recent
conversation with the older witch about her plans to continue working after she had kids.

Hermione cocked her head as she looked at Harry, trying to figure out why he looked so different. The half-
shaven face was part of it, the lack of glasses another part, but there was something more. His face wasn't as thin
and oval as it had been when he was younger. His cheekbones were jutting out slightly and there was a nice angle
to his jawline.

Somewhere along the way, he'd grown from the too-thin teenager into a rather handsome man, and she hadn't
noticed. Probably because her gaze always went straight to his captivating eyes and never stopped to study the
rest of his face. Her eyes met his now, and she saw him watching her curiously. "What's going on?" he whispered.

She blushed and looked down, her gaze landing on his towel, where his penis was. What is wrong with you?!

"Your hair looks ridiculous right now," she said quickly, turning to peek out into the hall through the crack in the
tent flap. "Okay, the coast is clear. I'll, uh, see you later. I mean, when you're done in here, come get me. You
know where I'll be. Um, bye."

She gave him a lame wave before disappearing into the hall and practically diving into their bedroom. Once she
was safely inside with the flap closed, she tossed her towel on the bed and leaned back against the canvas walls.

"Jesus Christ," she breathed, letting out a shaky breath.

What just happened? One look at Harry without a shirt and she'd turned into one of those giggly girls who
completely lost their heads around the wonderful Harry Potter. She'd seen Harry without a shirt before. Loads of
times. But this—this was different. She'd never seen him wrapped in a towel, fresh out of the shower.

Clearly, her theory about this Hermione's body longing for her fiancé was correct. She was sure if she was in her
world, she wouldn't have reacted like that. She wasn't attracted to Harry.
Really? How about all those times you thought him fanciable in school?

And in the tent, when it was just the two of you, you thought about it—turning to him for comfort—and not just
once.

Every time he dresses up in his Auror robes and fixes you with that fierce look, your heart flutters. Same effect
when he wears dress robes. And sometimes, it even happens when he's in normal clothes and smiles in that way
that brightens his whole face.

When you saw James for the first time you thought he was handsome, which is pretty much the same as thinking
Harry is handsome.

"Okay, that's enough," she said aloud. She went to the bed and plopped back onto it, raising her hands to her
warm cheeks. She was a mess. The stress of this trip was getting to her.

"Just nine more days," she said to the ceiling. Inappropriate thoughts were fine. Not great, but fine. As long as she
didn't act on them, which she would never, ever do. Especially since she had made a pact with herself at the start
of the trip to tell Ron everything that happened between her and Harry. So far, it was just two kisses. One at the
flat and one in the Enchanted Forest. She was determined not to let anything else get added to that list.

As she thought the words, "anything else," she saw a flash of Harry standing before her in just a towel, his hair
tousled and his lips turned up in a half-grin as his eyes sparkled with mirth. A familiar shock of desire hit her,
landing between her legs. She grabbed the pillow and groaned into it.

At least you're getting a shower soon.

Shut up!

Harry was subdued as they made their way to Cairo after their second breakfast that morning. It was hard to
imagine they'd started their day hours earlier in China, with only a hint of what they were going to experience at
the next Wonder.

Harry was trying to pull himself out of his low mood. He didn't want to waste any time on this trip being
depressed, but he'd never been able to actually snap out of them. He usually just plastered a smile on his face,
pretended he was okay, and waited for the darkness to pass.

As they explored the Muggle parts of Cairo, and Hermione pointed out various sights, Harry thought about all the
reasons he was sad. It wasn't a great way to make himself feel better, but Hermione told him once it was better to
face bad emotions, so he was trying that now.

There was the typical grief from all the people he'd lost back in his world, which he'd been forced to face earlier
in the Temple of Death. But that was an ever-present companion for him, always weighing on his heart, and
wasn't behind much of his current melancholy.

Harry was worried about his dad and was especially tormented by the fact that there was nothing he could do to
help him. He was worried about Hermione too, and he should be able to help her, but he felt almost as out of his
depth with her as he felt with James, which was distressing.

His mum seemed okay, he wasn't especially worried about her. Then again, he didn't know her well enough to
know if she was really okay or just faking, and he hated that. And most of all, he was jealous of the other Harry.
An utter, complete, all-consuming jealousy was threatening to drag him down into a dark place he feared he'd
never be able to claw his way out of.

That idiot, the other Harry, who was so fortunate, but too stupid to see it. He'd taken the witch he loved for
granted until she was almost killed. Then he had the gall to blame his parents for the incident, when all they'd
been trying to do was win a war. And finally, he'd proceeded to cut them out of his life for almost two years.
Wanker.
What Harry wouldn't give for two years with his parents. Look what he'd done for just two weeks with them.
Why was it fair that the other Harry got this life, while Harry was stuck in the other one, all alone?

"Hey." Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts. Her brown eyes, tinged with concern, were searching his face. "Do
you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay. That's fair. I'll be here if you change your mind." She gestured toward a small, elaborate archway at the
top of a narrow stairwell between two inconspicuous buildings. "That's where we're going."

Harry nodded and followed her up the stairs, deciding not to voice his concern that the archway, which was at the
edge of one of the city's walls, appeared to go nowhere. This was confirmed when they reached the top of the
stairs and Harry peered through the archway to a Muggle freeway below.

"Great view," Harry said flatly. "Would you like me to snap a photo of it for you?"

Hermione had pulled out her wand and was tapping each of the stones that made up the archway. "I know you're
in a bad mood," she said as she focused on her task, "but I can do without the snarkiness."

Harry sighed and pulled out his wand, then started tapping the higher-up stones she couldn't reach. Once they'd
tapped every stone twice, they gave up. Hermione cast several spells Harry had never seen before into the arch.

"Are you sure this is magical?" Harry asked doubtfully. He couldn't feel an ounce of magic in the air and
wondered if she'd got the wrong archway.

"Yes," she said simply, frowning at the result of the most recent spell. "This is one of the entrances into the
magical part of Cairo."

"And there was nothing in your research about how to get inside?"

"Oh, no. I know exactly how to get in. There were step-by-step instructions with diagrams and everything. I just
thought it would be fun to stand out here in the heat for an hour and imagine what it would be like if
I didn't know." She rolled her eyes and focused back on the complicated Runes hovering in the air above her
wand.

"Who's the snarky one now?" he grumbled, leaning against the frame.

Her lips curled up slightly as she tried her next spell. Before she had the incantation out of her mouth, a strange
chanting sound filled the air. Harry jumped and looked around for the source of the sound.

"What the—?"

"It's the call to prayer," Hermione explained, answering his unfinished question.

"I don't know what that means," he admitted.

"This is a Muslim city and it's part of their religion to stop and pray five times a day. These calls are put out by
the mosques as a reminder to stop and pray." She looked around and pointed toward the nearest mosque, with a
domed top and thin minarets setting it apart from the surrounding city. "I think the call is coming from there."

Harry looked around, expecting to see people stopping to pray, but there were no Muggles in this part of the city,
which seemed mostly abandoned. He looked down at the cars that were zooming past on the freeway below. "Are
they supposed to be stopping, then?" Maybe they couldn't hear the call from inside the cars.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "I don't know the rules. We do a terrible job in our world of educating children
about the various cultures of the world—and that's just magical cultures I'm talking about. Expand that to
Muggles and—"

"Hush," Harry hissed. "Do you hear that?"

"I just told you, it's the call to pray—"

"Not that. Listen."

Harry closed his eyes and focused on the sounds around them. He tried to block out the chanting coming from the
mosque and the whooshing of the cars on the freeway below. He could hear faint sounds of voices, laughter, carts
rolling across stone cobbled roads, the meowing of cats and the hooting of owls, and hawkers selling their wares.
It was the sounds he'd expect from a magical street in Cairo, but where were they coming from?

Harry opened his eyes and looked back through the archway, which still appeared to go nowhere, but he was sure
the sounds were coming from in there. He reached a tentative foot through and this time, unlike the other times
when he and Hermione had tried this, it met solid ground, instead of air.

"Wha—?" Hermione said, her eyes wide as she watched him tap his foot on the ground.

"I can hear the street on the other side. I think that call to prayer must have opened it up. Come on."

Hermione reached a tentative foot through and gave a frustrated sigh when it touched something solid. "How
much walking on air are we going to have to do on this trip?" she grumbled.

"Do you want me to carry you again?"

"No." Hermione clutched his arm tightly, squeezed her eyes shut, and rushed through the archway, pulling him
along with her. As soon as their bodies made it through the entryway, the scene around them changed. They were
in the middle of a lively bazaar.

Harry nudged Hermione in the side. "Open your eyes."

She took a deep breath before doing so, and he watched her face fill with wonder as she took in the sight around
them. "Wow."

Harry knew exactly how she felt. It was really something. Like Diagon Alley, if it were ten times larger, exotic,
and nestled amongst beautiful architecture. There were stalls everywhere selling all sorts of things from magic
carpets, to colorful sweets, to elaborate clothes and jewelry, to rare creatures. It was hard to decide where to look
first.

A boy of about eleven or twelve ran past them, saying what sounded like, "Got your face!" as he bumped into
Hermione. Harry was sure he'd misunderstood him but then, the boy turned around and was literally wearing
Hermione's face. Harry pulled out his wand and turned to Hermione, who looked like her normal self, but now, he
couldn't be sure. "Who has a doe Patronus?" he asked under his breath.

"Snape and your mum. It's me, Harry. That was just a silly trick."

"Maybe," he muttered, but didn't let go of her arm and kept his wand brandished the whole time they walked
down the busy street, on high alert for any other face-stealers.

When an elderly woman tried to wrap a scarf around Hermione's neck a few stalls down, Harry pulled Hermione
roughly against his side and waved the woman away.

It was the same at the next shop when a small girl held out a tray of sweets and encouraged Hermione to try one.
"Absolutely not," he hissed in her ear.

"I can run a quick spell to check for poisons if you're so worried."

"Or you can keep walking," he countered.

"You're no fun," she grumbled as she gave the girl an appreciative wave and continued walking down the street.

Hermione pointed out several cats hiding in little nooks and crannies and tried to make a game out of spotting
them as they made their way through the bazaar. "There's one," she said, pointing to a white cat curled up in a
 gold vase in the window of one of the shops.

Harry let out a small laugh. "That's a good hiding spot. Not as impressive as that one, however." He pointed
toward a man wearing a turban ahead of them. If you looked closely, a black kitten was peering out of one of the
folds.

Hermione laughed. "Okay. That one wins." She smiled up at Harry and gave him a playful nudge. "Are you
finally managing to relax a bit?"

"I'm just being vigilant," he said defensively. "We're in a strange place surrounded by strange magic. Who knows
what could happen if we let our guards down?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but when they reached the next shop, Harry's paranoia was proven to be warranted. A
small man with dark beady eyes, who wrapped in a cloak and hunched over, held out a tray of glittering jewels to
Hermione. She raised her hand to wave him away but when her eyes caught the emerald on the necklace at the
center, she forgot why her hand was in the air and slowly lowered it to her side.

"Come in?" the man said in a scratchy voice.

Hermione nodded slowly, lifted her leg to take a step closer to the necklace. She was violently pulled back by
Harry. "Get away!" Harry snapped at the man.

The man disappeared into the shadows as Harry pulled Hermione to the side of the road, taking her face in his
hands. He could still see the reflection of the emerald necklace in the depths of her eyes, which made his hairs
stand on edge. After a few seconds, the image disappeared and her eyes went back to normal.

"Are you okay?" Harry muttered urgently, his eyes roving over every familiar curve of her face, looking for
anything out of place. "Please, tell me you're okay."

Hermione placed her hands on top of his and pulled them down from her face. "I'm fine. It was just—I don't know
what that was, but I'm fine."

Harry pulled Hermione further off the road into a deserted alley and pointed his wand at her. "I'm going to run a
series of diagnostics spells to check for remnants of Dark Magic. Don't even bother protesting."

Hermione rolled her eyes but stood still as Harry checked her over. "And you were making fun of me for not
relaxing," he scoffed once he confirmed there was nothing wrong with her.

"I had it in hand," she countered. "I would have managed to snap out of that strange trance."

Harry let it slide, since he could tell she was still shaken from the encounter. Sure enough, when they returned to
the road, she was clutching him a little tighter.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to need you to not die
today, okay? That would be too many dead people for one day."

She looked up and gave him a shy smile, and he could tell she had recognized his quip for what it was. A truce.
They'd been at each other's throats all day, but they both knew it had nothing to do with the other.

"Okay," she said flippantly. "I can postpone the dying I was planning to do until tomorrow."

He pulled her closer to his side. "Dark joke."

"You loved it," she retorted as she snaked an arm around his middle.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Continued thanks to my beta, Lancashire Witch. And thanks to quinsomnia for the illustration!
 The Tear, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

After walking past a few more shops, Hermione suggested they stop somewhere for lunch. Harry insisted he be
the one to choose the place.

He passed by several indoor restaurants, not wanting to get stuck inside an unfamiliar place, and ultimately
decided on somewhere with outdoor seating, only after confirming they could have the table at the end of the row,
which was tucked against a blank wall and gave Harry the chance to look out at the entire street.

Hermione didn't comment on his paranoid behavior. She knew he got like this when he was stressed, disappearing
into the comfort of "Auror mode," where he felt capable and in control. Plus, she had to admit, his fear wasn't
completely unfounded. She shuddered as she remembered the hunched man with the necklace. She didn't want to
know what would have happened if Harry hadn't been with her.

After the waiter brought their tea and took their food orders—and after Harry finished scanning the area several
times and confirmed they were in no immediate danger, he turned to Hermione. "Okay. How about you tell me
the thing now?"

She took a sip of her tea, then let out a large sigh, bracing herself for what she knew was going to be a difficult
conversation, especially with Harry's sour mood. But she may as well tell him since he was bound to find out
sooner or later.

"Okay. But you can't yell, or even do the silent seething thing. And you definitely can't give me the cold shoulder
for the rest of the day. Okay?"

"How bad is this?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's nothing bad, I just know you."

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "Okay, Hermione. Out with it." He was determined to react
maturely to whatever news she had for him and show her that the stupid, emotionally dense Harry was a person
from their past.

When Hermione didn't speak for a full minute, Harry said, "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Give me a second. I'm trying to decide where to start."

"Start anywhere. Come on, you're scaring me."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "I'm not going to be allowed to be an Unspeakable anymore."

"What?"

"They're going to fire me," she said bluntly.

"Why?!"

"For this trip! Why else? Not only have I broken a thousand rules, but I brought you along, which is just another
thousand rules broken. The point is, once I file my report, and I can't get out of that. They'll know how long I
spent in the portal. Even though no time will have passed in that world, they have ways of keeping tabs on us and
what we do in the Department of Mysteries. After they read the report, they'll label me too risky and cut me
loose."

"But—what?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I said no yelling."

Harry sighed and said in a lower voice, "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Right at the beginning. Is this—is this the
same thing with the injury? You were too worried about upsetting me?" Harry felt sick at that thought. Certainly
he wasn't that bad. Was he? Shit, he didn't know anymore.

Hermione gave his hands a comforting squeeze. "It wasn't that, Harry. I'd lost the job the moment I decided to
bring you here. Extending the trip from one day to fourteen...it didn't matter at that point."

"What? I don't—I don't understand." Harry shifted his chair closer to her. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I am so
thankful to you for bringing me here, but why did you do it?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and dropped her head. She looked like she wanted to curl up and
disappear. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please," he whispered. "Can you tell me why?"

He recalled their first night in the Enchanted Forest, when she admitted why she'd taken the job in the first place.
Because she was searching for something she felt was missing in her life. And now, she'd given it up? For what?

"There's this Unspeakable, Miller. That's not his real name, of course, far too common for a wizard like that. But
we all call him Miller. And he—he's one of the best. I've always looked up to him. Anyway, I was asking him
once, what he does when he gets stuck on a problem and said when he's well and truly stuck, and can see no way
out, he burns it all down and starts again."

When Hermione finally looked back up at Harry, her gaze was fierce. "That's what you were doing?" he asked.
"Just—sabotaging yourself so you'll be forced to start over and pick another job?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. It works for Miller and he's brilliant. Though slightly mad. I think all geniuses are like
that."

Harry gathered her hands up, propped his elbows on the table, and bent down to kiss her knuckles. Bloody hell.
She was a mess. No wonder she'd been so stressed the past few days. When she returned home, she wasn't going
to have a job. That would be hard for anyone, but this was Hermione, who lived for her work.

Harry's chest clenched. He recognized a lot of himself in her. The way that even after the war was over, and
everyone was supposed to be happy, she longed for more. The way she suffered in silence and pretended she was
okay, even with her closest friends. And the way she'd convinced herself she had to do everything alone.

"Hermione?" Harry asked gently.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever mentioned any of this to Ron?"

He wasn't surprised when she shook her head. "I'm the one who solves things," she said softly. "That's my thing.
And this—this is my problem; my issue to sort out. Ron wouldn't understand."

Harry sighed and dropped his head, resting his forehead against her hands. It was so obvious what was going on
here, but clearly, not obvious to her. He took another breath before looking back up at her. "Remember how angry
you were with me for going into the Forbidden Forest to face Voldemort alone?"

She nodded.

"This is that, but to a lesser degree."

She tried to pull her hands out of his, but he tightened his grip. "Hear me out. You're struggling, maybe even
hurting a bit, and you're doing it all alone. Even though you have people in your life who'd be more than willing
to help—who are actually a bit offended you've not asked. But you've convinced yourself you have to do this
alone. For no logical reason, as far as I can see."

She just bit her lip and focused down on their hands.
"I know why you didn't come to me, we've covered that, but I know Ron would want to know. And he should
since you're going to be married in a few months. So, I don't know, maybe you can tell him everything you told
me when you're back?"

Hermione nodded. Blinking quickly to keep from crying in the middle of the busy street.

"Believe me, I get wanting to do everything alone. But you don't have to do that. Okay?"

"Same applies to you," she whispered.

Harry's lips turned up slightly. "I know. So, the next time you're feeling desperate, you should bring it up at our
weekly lunch or dinner—which we're going to institute as soon as we're back. And I'll do the same."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Yeah, and we both know how much you love a plan." Harry leaned forward and pulled her into a hug. "Speaking
of plans, maybe later today, when you're looking less broken, we can brainstorm new jobs for you."

She laughed into his shoulder. "Okay."

The food arrived and they gave up on the heavy conversation for a while. They people-watched and returned to
their game of picking out all the cats they could find in the crowd. After they finished their lunch and put money
on the table to cover the check, Hermione began to stand, but Harry caught her arm. "I have a question."

"Okay."

"Why did you think I was going to be angry about your job?"

"Oh." She dropped his gaze. "It's just something you do."

"What is?"

Hermione sighed. "I knew you'd blame yourself and a lot of times, when you're feeling uncomfortable like that,
you lash out at the people around you. Usually me."

Harry dropped her arm. He felt like he'd been stung. Ever since she'd pointed out his occasional tendency to
behave like a shit friend, it was as if the flood gates were open and she was determined to highlight every
inadequacy she could find in him.

Hermione sat back on her chair and sighed again. "That was overly harsh," she admitted. "Sorry. I'm in a bad
mood."

"Are you the only one allowed to point out the other's flaws, or can I do it too?" he challenged in a slightly
teasing tone.

"I don't know what you could possibly have to say. Wasn't it you who said I had very few bad qualities?"

"I meant what I said on that hill," Harry said. "Especially the part where I said I loved you, even the bad parts,
which is something you should keep in mind while I say this next thing."

"Fine." She crossing her arms over her chest. "Get on with it."

"I told you I was going to try to be a better friend, but I'm worried you're not going to give me a chance to be. You
know everything and have a tendency to stick the things in your life in neat little categories. And for years, you
had me in the one labeled—what was the phrase? The emotional range of a teacup?"

"Teaspoon," she corrected, "and I said that to Ron."

Harry let out a small laugh. "I'm sure it applied to me too. But my point is, one day I'm going to be better than
that. But if you keep expecting me to behave badly and treat me like a dullard, we're not going to be able to get
past it."

She was quiet, her brow furrowed, and Harry let her think about what he'd said for a few moments. "Yeah," she
said grudgingly. "I see what you're saying."

"I still want you to call me out and tell me when I'm being an idiot. But maybe, after I've done the bad thing, not
before. And, er, for things I've done in the past few days and not, like, three years ago?"

"Yes," she said, her lips turning up. "I can do that."

Harry held his hand out and she shook it without hesitation. "Sorry, Harry."

"You apologize too much."

"Maybe, but this one was warranted."

Harry shrugged and stood up. "Okay, that was a heavy lunch."

"Heavy day," she countered.

"Heavy week."

Hermione leaned in and muttered, "I have a feeling it's going to get worse."

"Normally, saying that sort of thing out loud would be bad luck, but…"

"It's us," she finished for him. "How much worse can our luck get?"

"Now you're really pushing it," he teased.

She gave him a slightly wild look that said, "Bring it on, universe," and he wondered if maybe she had a bit of
that madness in her that most geniuses had.

As if in response to Hermione's comment about their luck, a driverless cart overflowing with clinking vials nearly
ran them off the road as they were walking back to the exit of the bazaar. Harry grabbed Hermione and dove for a
nearby alley, glad they weren't in one of the narrow parts of the street. They fell into a heap on the ground. Harry
had to wait for Hermione to rise to a sitting position before he could pull himself up.

"This is what happens when you tempt fate," he scolded.

She wasn't paying attention. She was focused on something behind Harry. He turned to see a large, bottle-green
snake slithering out of a wicker basket. His first instinct was to try to talk to it and command it to leave them
alone. That didn't work, because this Harry wasn't a Parseltongue.

Hermione erected a Shield Charm across the alley, effectively closing off the snake's access to them. After
tapping its head against the shield a few times, the snake lost interest and returned to its basket.

Hermione looked at Harry and had one eyebrow raised. "Did you try to talk to it?"

He just shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed that he hadn't thought of the Shield Charm first.

"So, you miss that part too?" she smirked. "Getting to order snakes around?"

"Are you asking me if I miss being imbued with a bit of Voldemort's power?" he replied sharply. "That's the same
as asking if I miss my scar or the fact that my parents are dead."

Her mouth fell open slightly. He was about to apologize for snapping at her when she burst into laughter. She
doubled over, grabbing her stomach, and was laughing so hard, she seemed to be having trouble breathing.
Harry was very confused. "Er...Hermione?"

"Sorry," she forced out. "I know it's awful to laugh at… but you were so serious… and it was just a stupid joke…
of course you don't miss talking to snakes." She laughed more and Harry leaned back on his palms and smiled as
he watched her completely fall apart.

"I don't know why I can't stop," she said when she regained a bit of control, wiping tears away with the back of
her hand. "I think I've been so sad today, I've finally cracked."

Harry, who was laughing by now, knew exactly how she felt. "No need to apologize," he replied as she leaned her
back against the stone wall and continued laughing silently, her smile wide and her eyes still shining with tears of
mirth. He smiled, wider than he had all day, and thought to himself that he could watch Hermione laughing with
abandon like this forever.

Once they were back at the campsite, Hermione pulled Harry to the side. "Hey, uh, I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"When your mum was talking to me earlier, she wanted me to talk to you about your dad."

"What about him?"

"Uh, he's upset about Sirius, like I said, and she thinks it'll be good for you to talk to him. She wanted me to try to
convince you to do so."

Harry swore and began pacing the area, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't," he muttered, more to himself than
Hermione. "I wouldn't know the first place to start."

He swore again, then took a seat on a large rock. He pulled his legs up and dropped his head against his knees,
trying not to cry as he imagined his dad grieving in the tent somewhere, waiting in vain for his son to come
comfort him.

"Harry," Hermione said gently. "You loved Sirius too. You can just—talk about him generally, without details,
and your dad will know you're sincere. That will be enough."

"I didn't ask your opinion on this, did I?" he bit back, talking into his knees.

He heard Hermione sigh, then swore again. "I just did it, didn't I?" he groaned. "Took my frustration out on you."
He looked up and found her crouched in front of him, eyes wide and sad. "Don't downgrade me to the 'teaspoon'
category again, please? I—I'm trying and—"

She reached out and cupped his cheek. "Oh, Harry."

He was relieved to see her smiling.

"You're allowed to snap at people. Lord knows I do it all the time. Also, for the record, I don't think you have the
emotional range of a teaspoon. Or even a teacup. I think you have a giant emotional range and just struggle to
deal with it, which is completely understandable, given everything."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then pulled herself back up to her feet. "Take some time," she
said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine, no matter what you decide. And if you need me, I'll be in the
tent."

When Harry finally worked up the courage to talk to his dad, it took him a little while to find him. First, he went
to the tent and spotted Hermione and his mum in the kitchen, working on what looked like an elaborate dinner.
When Harry told his mum he was looking for his dad, she abandoned the pastry dough she was rolling out and
threw her arms around Harry, covering him in flour.
After cleaning the flour away with her wand, Lily told Harry his dad had gone for a walk. She offered to send her
Patronus for him, but Harry waved her away. "It's okay, Mum. I don't mind a walk."

He turned to Hermione before leaving and she mouthed, "Good luck," before focusing back on the vegetables she
was chopping with her wand.

After walking around the lake at the center of the oasis, Harry was about to give up his search and send a
Patronus. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and gave the area a final sweeping glance, then he spotted him.
James had climbed one of the palm trees that was bent over the water. He was lounging with his back against the
trunk of the tree, looking out at the lake.

Harry smiled. His dad would be up there, instead of sitting on one of the countless rocks surrounding the water.
Harry had only known his dad for a few days, but he'd learned that he had a flair for dramatics. Harry approached
the tree and called, "Is there room up there for one more?"

James peeked his head over the tree trunk and smiled down at Harry. "Of course. Come on up."

Harry moved his wand to the back pocket of his jeans, so he could grab it quickly if he needed to. He started
climbing the trunk, using the shallow ridges as hand and footholds. Luckily, he only had to make it about six feet
up before the tree bent over. Then, he got to his feet and walked along the trunk like a balance beam until he
reached his dad, who had shifted so he was sitting on the trunk with his legs hanging over the edge. Harry
carefully took a seat next to him.

"Impressive," James said once Harry had settled into his seat. "I tried that way first, then ended up Levitating
myself up."

"Cheater," Harry teased.

"Are you going to give me one of Hermione and Lily's speeches about the plight of Muggles? Point out how hard
it is for them to go through life without magic? Having to climb trees on their own, without the security of
knowing they could catch themselves with a spell if they slipped."

"I'll think I'll spare you."

James leaned into Harry. "Thanks."

They were quiet for a few moments as they watched the lake, then James let out a small laugh. "I still remember
that time when you were about six or seven. Lily had asked you to clean your room and as you remember—she
always made you do chores the Muggle way, insistent that you learn how to go through life without magic—at
least until you got your wand. Do you remember what you told her?"

Harry shook his head, figuring it was safe not to remember something from so long ago.

"You said, 'Mum, you don't even like Muggles. You're always complaining about your sister and her family, yet
you want us to pretend to be like them.' That gave her quite a shock, since we didn't know you were listening in
when we talked about them. Then you finished with, 'I know the incantation if you need help with the Cleaning
Spell.'"

"I said all that?" Harry couldn't help but laugh. There was something so satisfying about hearing that his parents
disliked his aunt and uncle.

"Yeah. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. I was supposed to look stern, you know? Lily was
struggling not to laugh, too. You were such a cheeky kid." He turned and winked at Harry before adding, "Pretty
cheeky adult, too."

"I wonder where I got that from."

James laughed again. "It turned out though, didn't it? All that Muggle education your mum forced on you. You
probably wouldn't have befriended Hermione—gone against the rest of your housemates, who were determined to
hate her—if you hadn't had your mum pestering you about being especially kind to Muggleborns."

"You're probably right." Harry smiled as he thought of Hermione and how she'd been as a First Year. So even in
this world, she'd been intense, which made sense, since nothing would have been different for her at the start of
school. He was glad the other Harry had befriended her and managed to calm her down a bit.

"How was Cairo?" James asked. "Did we miss anything?"

"Not really. The magical part was pretty cool, though a little hard to find. It was a big bazaar. Like a larger, more
exotic Diagon Alley. And there were more cats."

"Live ones this time?"

Harry let out a laugh. "Yeah. As far as we could tell."

James just hummed.

"What did you do back here?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Felt sorry for myself," James sighed, "and tried to use all my willpower to keep from going back to that temple
to get another ten minutes." He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "We should have
gone into the city with you. At least it would have been a nice distraction. But I knew I wouldn't be good
company today."

"I wouldn't have minded," Harry said kindly. "I wasn't good company, and neither was Hermione, for that matter.
We're both in sour moods for—er—obvious reasons."

"Yeah." James dropped his hand from his face and turned toward Harry again. "I was thinking… How about we
leave tonight, after dinner? I wouldn't mind putting several thousand miles between us and that tear. It'll keep me
from obsessing about going back. What do you think Hermione will say? Can you get her to loosen the reins a
bit? I'll alter the Portkey again. Though, after she made me show her the spell six times, I'm betting she can do it
herself."

"I'll talk to her," Harry nodded. "She said we're just camping in South America, so arriving a day early shouldn't
be a problem."

"Brilliant. Thanks."

Another silence settled between them, this one a lot longer than the last one. Harry was wondering if he should be
saying something, or if it was normal for him and his dad to sit quietly like this. He hated how he didn't know and
cursed the other Harry for the thousandth time for getting to live this life.

It was James who ultimately broke the silence. "How are you?" he asked, leaning into Harry. "How did you
handle the visit? I should have asked you earlier."

Harry's mouth went dry. He'd only planned to talk about what his dad had seen at the Tear in the Veil, but that
would have required Harry to actually work up the courage to ask him about it. And now that Harry had failed
that simple task, he was the one on the spot. Shit.

He cast around for something to say and landed on, "I was regretting going at all, right at the end."

"Why?" James asked, without a hint of judgment.

Harry looked out at the lake as he spoke. "I was worried it was too unnatural and would drive me a bit mad, you
know? And Hermione, she agreed it was a risk. But she said risks are okay sometimes and that in her job—with,
uh, brewing new Potions," he added hastily, "taking risks usually leads to new discoveries. So, she asked me what
I'd discovered," he ended lamely, then took a deep breath.

That made no sense. This was the problem with beginning to speak before you had the end in mind.
"What do you think you discovered?"

"No idea," Harry said honestly. "I've been thinking about it all day and all I've come up with is—er—that I'm glad
to be alive and that I'm really sad the others are gone. Sirius especially. He was like another parent to me and I
never—he was so alive, always laughing, the center of attention in every room. I never imagined someone like
that could die."

Harry dropped his head as a few tears fell onto his lap. "I miss him. All the time. Whenever I think of something I
want to ask him, then remember he's gone. Or when I think of a clever joke I know he'll appreciate. So, yeah.
That's not much of a revelation. I knew I missed him before."

Harry took his glasses off and wiped away the tears that had fallen on the lenses with his shirt. He could see his
dad out of his periphery, sitting completely still, and wondered what he was thinking. Did he know Harry was a
fraud? He had tried to do what Hermione said, speak sincerely, but he was sure it wasn't what his dad was looking
for. He probably wanted to reminisce about Sirius with someone who shared the same memories.

James placed a hand on Harry's shoulder just as he was putting his glasses back on. "I think you've got the
discovery right on with the first thing you said."

"What?" Harry asked, turning to look at his dad as he tried to remember what he'd said.

"You said, 'I'm glad to be alive.' I think that's it. The big revelation you're supposed to come away with after
talking to the dead. And you—you're so good at that, Harry. At living and just—enjoying your life."

"I am?"

James squeezed Harry's shoulder before dropping his hand and turning back to face the lake. "Yes, you are. You
couldn't have picked a better partner. And you have a job you love that adds a bit of joy to the world without
stressing you out. I know you were thinking about joining the league, or even the Aurors for a little while, chasing
one of those illustrious careers that entice most wizards your age, but you gave it up. I've always been so proud of
you for that. So, whatever life lesson you're supposed to learn, I think you already learned it. Maybe you can
teach me a few things."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, turning to look at his dad.

James kept his gaze forward as he responded. "I told Sirius about the textbook, and about teaching at Hogwarts.
He, well, we had a laugh." He paused to smile and Harry could see tears welling in his eyes. "Then he said—" he
paused again, this time to take a deep breath, "—about bloody time.

"He said, 'I've been wondering how long it would take you to stop chasing revenge and letting the war run your
life.' He was referring to the DMLE work. I hate it—always have—but I thought it was what I was supposed to
do. There are still Death Eaters out there and I should help catch them. But he—he told me to let it go."

"Oh," Harry breathed as a lump formed in his throat. Would Sirius have told him the same thing? Wasn't he doing
just that? Chasing Death Eaters out of a sense of duty, more than anything else. He certainly didn't like the work
and if he was being truly honest with himself, he was tired. So fucking tired of Dark Magic, Dark Wizards, and
seeing the worst of humanity day in and day out.

"I think I've been suffering from survivor's guilt," James continued. "I thought I must have been the one left
behind for a reason and needed to do something worthwhile. But lately, I don't know. I think it's enough to just be
the bloke who raised a good wizard, was devoted to his wife, and helped a few students master Switching Spells.
I don't have to kill every Death Eater who killed my friends."

They were quiet for a while until Harry found his voice. "I understand survivor's guilt. It's… hard and you—I'm
sure you have it pretty bad, losing all your closest friends."

James nodded. "But you haven't let it run your life. Why is that?"
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea. He thought of the other Harry and one of the most
obvious differences between their lives as he said, "Hermione."

Back in their world, she'd wanted him to go back to Hogwarts after the war and act like a kid. And she'd never
liked his choice of career. The Harry in this world must have listened to her.

"Yeah, I thought so," James replied. "Good job listening to your witch. I made the mistake of ignoring mine."

"They are a lot smarter than us," Harry said with a small smile.

"No kidding." James wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and they sat there for a long while, watching the
sky change colors and cast patterns of light on the water.

"I saw a magic carpet in the sky around here when you were in Cairo, so I think it's safe to fly without alerting
any Muggles. You up for it?" James asked,

"Absolutely," Harry replied, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. Flying with his dad was the exact pick-
me-up he needed right now.

Over dinner, the group agreed to pack up the campsite and go to South America a day early. James and Hermione
started working on the Portkey while Harry and Lily secured the loose items around the tent. Once they were
finished, Harry returned to his bedroom and packed up the few clothes strewn about, then plopped onto the bed.
He was so done.

As he sat there, exhausted, the emotions of the day finally caught up to him. Tears fell down his face and after a
few moments, he was full-on crying. He took his glasses off and dropped his head in his hands as sobs shook his
body.

A few moments later, he felt the bed shift, then a gentle hand on his back. He continued to cry. He was so
overcome with emotion, he couldn't stop. He felt Hermione get up, heard her distant voice say, "We need some
time… at least thirty minutes… knock on your door when we're ready to go."

She was back and this time, she grabbed his shoulders and folded herself over his hunched back in a sort of hug.

Harry reached up and grabbed one of her hands as he tried to regain control of himself. This was ridiculous, they
were supposed to be leaving and he'd completely lost it. What was wrong with him? He shoved his palms into his
eyes and took deep, deliberate breaths.

When he'd finally regained some semblance of control, he sat up slowly, giving Hermione a chance to pull herself
off him. He turned to her and murmured, "Sorry," keeping his head down.

Hermione grabbed his chin and tilted his face up. "I know you're about to say you're fine, and that you don't want
to talk about it, but I'm going to insist you do. This is what happens when you bottle things up. So… take
whatever time you need and when you're ready, tell me what's going on."

Harry could tell by the stern look on her face that she wasn't going to budge on this one. He sighed and leaned
back on his hands, looking at the blank canvas wall of the tent as he took several more shaky breaths. When he
felt stable enough to talk, he started with, "I'm sad."

He saw her nod out of his periphery. "I'm going to need more than that."

Harry's lips curled up. He knew it wouldn't be that easy, but it was worth a shot. "I've been feeling sorry for
myself this whole trip," he continued, "mourning the life I didn't get to have. But today—it hit me, for the first
time—that I should be mourning the life they didn't get to have."

"Your parents?" Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on the wall. "They're people. Real people, and I—I always thought of them as
these perfect wizards who had it all figured out but they— They're struggling, and learning, and growing—just
like we are—and, I don't know, none of it happens. They just stop all that at twenty-one years old—almost the
same age I am now—and it's so unfair."

"I know."

"They love each other so much, and they're just trying to enjoy life and choose the right path, just like I am, and I
—I don't know. I know it's obvious, but I just realized it, while talking to my dad earlier and it—it makes the
whole thing so much sadder. I was so selfish before, just thinking of myself."

He thought too of what he and his dad had talked about. About survivor's guilt and trying your best to ignore it
and enjoy life, which was what Sirius would have wanted for them. He thought about how he wasn't doing that
back at home. But Harry couldn't unravel that mess right now.

Instead, he leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and started crying into his hands again. Hermione
clutched the arm closest to her and laid her head on his shoulder.

This time, it only took him a few minutes to regain control of himself. "This is pathetic," he muttered as he started
wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve.

Hermione pulled his hands down and placed her hands on either side of his face, turning him to face her. "Don't."

"What?" he whispered.

"This is not pathetic. You're allowed to have emotions and giving in to them every once in a while doesn't make
you weak. I break down all the time, from nightmares and flashbacks, grief over all we've lost. When I'm a
blubbering mess like that, do you think it's pathetic?"

"No," he said honestly. He spoke to the silver otter on her necklace, since he was too embarrassed to look her in
the eye.

She dropped her hands and conjured a handkerchief, then began wiping the tears from his face. "Good. It's the
same for me. I don't think having feelings makes you weak or pathetic. It's repressing them that's the problem. We
need to get you to stop that."

She'd finished with the handkerchief, then grabbed his glasses from the bed and gently put them back on.

"I'm going to say something you told me a few days ago, which I think is obvious, but wouldn't hurt to put words
to."

She placed her hands on his shoulders. "I love you, Harry. Even when you're reduced to a puddle of tears. You're
allowed to break down; you have a lot going on. But you're not allowed to beat yourself up about it. You're also
not allowed to beat yourself up about mourning your parents incorrectly. It's a process. You mourned your loss,
now you're mourning theirs. I'm sure more facets will come up, and you'll handle those when they do. Just—go
easy on yourself. Okay?"

Harry pulled her into a hug. "You're brilliant," he said into her hair.

"Is that a yes? Are you going to go easy on yourself?"

"Of course," he said, smiling as he leaned back. "Plus, you look like you're going to hex me if I don't agree."

"Yes. I would." She sighed and got to her feet. "It's been a day, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

She used her wand to float the few items of hers that were out of her trunk back in place, then shrunk both of their
trunks and sent them into their backpacks. When she was finished, she pocketed her wand, then turned around
and held her hand out to Harry. "Ready to go to South America and put all this behind us?"
 "Fuck yes," he said as he placed his hand in hers.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Another chapter full of conversations. Poor Harry is really losing it, but I think this is realistic. This
sort of trip would be very emotionally draining. Good thing he has Hermione by his side (who is also kind of
losing it – but is hiding it better). Thanks for reading!
 Fall's End, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It was 8:28pm Egyptian time, and the group was huddled around James, who was holding the next Portkey in his
palm.

"This will be two big time changes in one day for us," Hermione was saying. "We're all knackered because it feels
like 2:30 in the morning to us, we had a draining day, and we only had a short nap this morning. But in South
America, it will be 3:30 in the afternoon and we're supposed to align with the next time zone to—"

"We're tired, Hermione," James cut in, "so we're going to sleep when we get there. Let's not overthink it."

"I was just about to suggest we ignore the guidance this time around and go straight to sleep—since I think we're
all tired enough to sleep a solid twelve hours—which is something you would have heard had you not interrupted
me."

"I don't know why you insist on explaining things we already know," he bit back. "We could be using this time to
do more productive things, such as going to South America and setting up our tent so we can get to sleep faster."

"That's not true. It's a timed Portkey so we're going to be here for the next 45 seconds regardless—"

"Enough!" Lily cut in. "I'm finished listening to this. If you want to continue this argument in Venezuela, I will
lock you two in a room and setup the Silencing Charm myself. But for now, we're going to spend these last few
seconds in peaceful silence."

She took a deep breath and placed a finger on the Portkey, then looked pointedly at James and Hermione, who
were glowering at each other. When Hermione touched her finger to the Portkey, James stuck his tongue out at
her, which caused her to roll her eyes.

Hermione turned her head toward Harry, but he shifted his focus to the Portkey in his dad's hand, determined not
to get dragged into the middle of thie row. The air was tense for the next few seconds, until the Portkey activated
and pulled them away.

Everyone was in bed by 4:00pm which, as Hermione pointed out while Harry was drifting off to sleep, was
3:00am Chinese time and 9:00pm Egyptian time. Harry managed to sleep through most of the night, despite
Hermione's concerns. When he woke up he checked the time with his wand, 3:00am, and was surprised that even
though he'd slept a solid eleven hours, he was still a little tired.

He returned his wand back to the bedside table and shifted back under the covers. "Hey," Hermione said from the
other side of the bed.

He turned to face her. "Hey."

"What time is it?"

"Three."

"Oh. That's not so bad."

"Yeah. I was thinking the same thing, though I think I can still sleep some more."

"Me too."
Harry couldn't see her face in the dark, just the outline of her face. He figured it was the same for her, so he made
sure his tone was light when he said, "I guess that fight between you and my dad was useless after all," so she'd
know he was teasing.

She let out a small snort and he pictured her rolling her eyes.

"Hey," he said next, a little tentatively. "Do you—er—like him?"

"Your dad?"

"Er—yeah?" Harry felt embarrassed. He wouldn't have been able to ask this sort of childish question in the light.

Hermione smiled inwardly. She understood the desire to have your friends like your parents. It was like two
separate worlds, colliding, and it was validating when those worlds approved of each other. Her parents had
always been known as 'the muggles'. Or to the few people who understood what it meant, like Harry, 'the dentists'.

She'd always wanted to have Ron and Harry get to know her parents, but then the war had happened, she'd
Obliviated them, and destroyed the relationship beyond repair. A tear fell down her face as she focused back on
Harry.

"I like your dad. He's an impressive wizard and besides that: kind, brave, funny, a really supportive husband and
father. He just gets on my nerves. Or, I guess I can say that we get on each other's nerves. I'll apologize for being
so snippy with him."

"You don't have to do that. I was just—er—checking."

"Don't let me alter your opinion of your dad, okay? He's really great. But, as far as Potter men go, I prefer you, of
course." She kicked him playfully under the covers. "But he's good too."

Harry smiled. "That's good, because he really likes you. You should hear what he says when you're not there. I
think the bickering is just a game for him."

Hermione hummed.

"You like bickering with people too, yeah? It's like—erm—fun for you?" This was something Harry had never
understood about her and Ron.

"I wouldn't say I like it," she whispered back. "Just that some people bring it out in me."

"Well, you chose Ron as your partner, someone who brings it out of you, so I assumed that meant you liked it."

"Oh. Well, we don't fight as much as we did."

Harry's silence was heavy and Hermione could almost hear him biting his tongue. She pushed him. "Enough
judgment out of you," she laughed. "We can't all be the 'Conflict-Avoider Extraordinaire.'"

"I know that was meant to be insulting, but I like the title," he smiled back at her. "Certainly better than 'Boy Who
Lived.'"

"Okay. I'll float it around when we're back home and see if I can get the public to pick it up."

He let out a small laugh.

They were quiet for a few moments and now that Harry's eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see the faint
outlines of her face. Enough to see that her eyes were open and she was wearing a half smile.

He shifted, since one of his arms was falling asleep. "What's the next Wonder?"

"Fall's End. It's supposed to be the hardest Wonder to reach, so we may not even make it there, but we can try."
"What makes it a Wonder?"

"Apparently the water there has rare magical properties that provides enlightenment to anyone who drinks it."

"What?"

"I know. It sounds pretty interesting."

"What sort of enlightenment?" Harry asked, alarmed. "Like—will my parents know it's us?"

"I have no idea. But I got the sense it was more of a spiritual enlightenment, rather than a literal one."

"What will we do if they find out?"

Hermione reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "We'll figure it out, like we always do. Don't worry. The
odds are against us. Only five or ten percent of the people—depending on which source you go with—who try to
find Fall's End are successful."

She yawned and pulled her hand back as she shifted onto her stomach, fluffing up the pillow under her head. "I'm
going to try to sleep for another hour or so. You should try the same."

Harry nodded, but his mind was still picturing them at some mystical pond, each taking turns drinking from the
water. What sort of enlightenment would he experience? And his parents... what if Hermione was wrong and they
learned his and Hermione's secret? How would they react? He looked back at Hermione, who was asleep again,
surrounded by a mess of curls.

He reached out and moved a few curls away from her face. She didn't seem worried about this next Wonder. We'll
figure it out, like we always do. She was right. As long as Hermione was there with him, Harry would be just fine.
With that thought in his head, he was finally able to fall back asleep.

Day Seven

Two hours later, Hermione was sitting outside on a rock by a small fire Harry had just finished making, watching
the first signs of sunrise creep into the night sky. A mug appeared next to her head and she jumped, then looked
up to find James standing next to her. "Extra-strong with a splash of milk."

She smiled as she took the tea. "Thanks, James. And about yesterday, I'm sor—"

"Nah," he interrupted, taking a seat next to her on the rock. "We both get snippy when we're stressed. I remember
that from Headquarters. We don't mean anything by it. It just makes those two—" he cocked his head toward the
tent, where Harry and Lily were making breakfast, "—exceedingly uncomfortable."

Hermione smiled as she remembered her earlier conversation with Harry. "They're so soft," she joked.

"They really are," James laughed.

Hermione took a few sips of the tea, relishing the feel of the warm mug against her cold hands. She turned to
James. He was drinking his own tea as he watched the fire. He looked like Harry at that moment, his brow
furrowed and his mouth pulled into a tight line. It was funny, even though Harry and his dad resembled each
other, she rarely saw Harry in James's face.

She figured it was because she knew Harry so well, the small differences between their features were enough to
make James look like a completely different person to her. And their demeanors were nothing alike. But
sometimes, when James was pensive like this, or when Harry was laughing fully, they looked just alike.

It made her heart simultaneously swell and ache anytime she saw it. She was glad Harry had this chance to
connect with his parents, but there was that looming deadline drawing closer each day and after that, they'd be out
of his life for good.

James raised his eyebrows in question when he saw her looking at him.

"I have some good news for you," she said.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to love today. See that mountain over there?" She gestured toward a large shadow barely visible in
the distance.

James nodded.

"As soon as it's light enough, we're going to fly there. And later, we're going to try to make our way to the bottom
and you'll be the one leading the charge."

"Oh my! You're abdicating the throne?"

"Nothing as dramatic as that," she replied, rolling her eyes with mock annoyance. "I'm just giving away control
temporarily because we need an Animagus to lead the way."

"Really? Is it going to be like that mission in Kent or the one where we tried to get into Nott Manor?"

Hermione's jaw tensed and she took a sip of tea to hide it, glad for the low light. "Neither. It'll be like nothing
you've done before," she said, hoping this was true.

She could feel James's eyes on her but kept her gaze on the mountain in the distance. "Okay, Hermione. I am
officially intrigued."

She just smiled and took another sip of her tea.

"They're laughing out there, so they made up," Lily announced as she walked back into the kitchen. She grabbed
a few plates from the cabinet and put them on the counter next to Harry.

"Good," Harry said as he started spooning scrambled eggs onto each plate. "Were they like this at—er—
Headquarters?" He hoped this was something he shouldn't already know.

"Yes," Lily sighed as she cut up a few strawberries to add to the plates. "It was worse when Sirius was still alive.
James and he were always looking for a laugh and Hermione was an obvious target since, well, you know how
serious she gets when she's stressed. It was just non-stop bickering between the three of them. I felt like I was
mediating sibling arguments, which isn't fair, since I only have one kid!"

She turned and squeezed his shoulders before lifting her wand to Summon four glasses from a high shelf. "But
you can't use this excuse to get out of having lots of kids," she said with a grin. "Minimum three and yes, they'll
fight, but you can send them over to our house when you've had enough."

Harry's heart clenched. She'd never meet his kids. Or, well, not his kids. She'd probably become very close with
the other Harry's kids. "Uh, yeah," he said hoarsely, swallowing back tears.

Luckily, Lily was focused on the plates in front of her and didn't notice Harry's abrupt change in mood. "Okay,
just toast I think, then—" As if on cue, the toaster popped. Harry floated the four pieces of toast to the plates and
helped his mum carry them outside.

James conjured two chairs for Lily and Harry and they sat in silence as they ate their food, the only sound the
clinking of silverware on their plates and a few wolves howling in the distance. Harry wasn't very hungry and
only ate half his eggs and two bites of toast. When he put his plate on the ground Hermione leaned in and
whispered, "Are you okay?"
He gave her a sad smile. She grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together, keeping them that way as she
finished the rest of the food on her plate.

Hermione screamed as Harry dipped the broom to avoid an oncoming bird.

"Sorry," he murmured in her ear, his warm breath sending tingles down her spine. She shuddered and Harry,
incorrectly assuming that meant she was cold, tightened his grip on her. He pressed his chest against her back and
propping his chin on her shoulder, which just made the spine-tingling worse.

Hermione focused on the cool air on her skin in an effort to combat the heat that was rising in her body. Then,
Harry swerved again. She forgot to be uncomfortable with being this close to him and settled back against his
strong frame.

"It's these damn clouds," he said. "I can't see the birds until the last minute. But I'm trying to keep this flight as
smooth for you as I can."

"Uh huh," she said, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. "I cannot believe the other Hermione included so
many flying activities in this trip. Is she not afraid of heights?"

"You know you could have left this flying trip out and we'd have never known," Harry pointed out.

"It was in the plan," she said, slightly affronted.

Harry laughed and she could feel it vibrate through her body. "Hermione, you don't have to follow every plan. But
in this case, I'm glad you did, because this view is brilliant."

Hermione looked ahead and gasped as the clouds parted to reveal a spectacular waterfall. "Wow," she whispered.

There was a mountain with a flat top shooting up from the ground. In the middle of the mountain was a giant
waterfall flowing all the way down and disappearing into a thick mist that covered the ground below. It was the
tallest waterfall Hermione had ever seen, higher than ten dragon-lengths. As she watched the water tumble
downward, and considered how far it had to go, she felt dizzy and had to close her eyes.

She felt water on her face and opened her eyes to find that Harry had moved them closer to the waterfall. It was
the spray coming off the falls, making them wet, even though they were still about twenty feet away. She didn't
mind though. The sun was peeking out of the horizon and warming the air, and the cool water felt nice in contrast.

Harry gave her a small hug and said, with his chin still propped on her shoulder, "It's gorgeous."

Hermione turned her head and gave him a quick kiss on the side of the mouth. She tried her best not to overthink
the action and about how she'd have to add this to her list to review with Ron when she returned. There was
something about being in front of a view so awe-inspiring that made her want to feel close to someone else. As if
sharing it made it more real, somehow.

Just then, James and Lily came up next to them. James was saying something to Lily, which Hermione couldn't
hear over the sound of the waterfall. Lily, who was sitting behind James with her arms wrapped around his
middle, nodded and took his wand out of an inside pocket of his robes. She held her hand out and he dropped his
glasses into it, then she muttered a spell, which Hermione realized was a Water Repellent Charm.

Harry moved their broom closer to his parents and held his glasses out to Lily. "Can you do mine too?" He
shouted to be heard over the sound of the waterfall.

Hermione turned her head and gave Harry an apologetic look. He smiled. "I would have asked you, but I'm pretty
sure there's nothing I can say to get you to release your death grip on the broom."

Hermione nodded. Once Lily returned Harry's glasses, they flew around the area before dismounting at the peak
of the mountain, just feet away from the start of the waterfall. Hermione was glad to be on solid ground again and
resolved to stay near the middle of the peak so she wouldn't have to look over the edge.
Lily cast a spell that made a silent bubble around them so they could hear each other over the roar of the water.
Everyone looked at Hermione expectantly, but she was too busy trying to forget how high up she was to respond.
Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, which calmed her slightly.

"Okay," she said, her voice a little shaky. "This is it, Fall's End. Or, well, this is the fall, and the end is down
there." She pointed behind her toward the raging waterfall.

"Why didn't they call it waterfall's end?" Harry asked. "That would have been clearer. When you said Fall's End
earlier, that made no sense."

"I don't know," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "The Spanish name for it is final de la cascada, which translates to
waterfall's end. I'm not sure why they changed it in English."

"I think Fall's End is more mysterious," Lily chimed in. "Makes you wonder which fall. And it has a better ring to
it."

"What would happen if we just dove straight down there?" James asked, standing too close to the edge for
Hermione's comfort. Watching him made her feel dizzy so she focused back on a rock on the ground in front of
her.

"I assume you mean on a broom?" Lily asked.

"Of course. Even with a wand, I wouldn't take that dive." James moved away from the side and rejoined the
group.

"Like I said over breakfast, the bottom of the waterfall is surrounded by a protective mist that strips magic from
most of the area," Hermione explained. "There are small pockets where you can use magic, but it's pretty unlikely
you'd hit one of those if you just dove into the mist from up here.

"So, if you tried to get there from the air, you'd pass out once you inhaled the mist. Even if you had a Bubble-
Head Charm, it would stop working immediately. Then the magic in the broom would give out and you'd fall.
And even if you weren't unconscious, you wouldn't be able to lessen the impact of your fall with any spells.
Because, like I said, no magic. So you'd crash into the ground and die."

James nodded thoughtfully. "Do you think the forest is littered with the bodies of people who tried that?"

"Probably not," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I heard wolves this morning, so my guess is the animals would
have eaten them by now."

Harry and Lily shared concerned looks while James laughed. "Never be a healer, Hermione," he said as he patted
her on the back. "The way you deliver bad news...that would translate into a terrible bedside manner."

"You love it," she teased. "The more danger, the better for you."

"Absolutely." He mounted his broom again and motioned for Lily to join him. "Ready, Lil?"

"For what?" she asked as she climbed on and wrapped her arms around his waist.

James zoomed past the edge of the mountain, so he was hovering in the air, then winked at Harry and Hermione
before diving out of sight. Hermione shuddered as Lily's scream filled the air, but it sounded amused, not
terrified. Hermione almost laughed at Harry's face. He looked like Teddy when he was about to ask for sweets.
"You can go, but I'm obviously not going with you."

"Really? You're okay to stay here?"

"Yeah."

"Brilliant!" He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

Hermione sat at the center of the mountain top and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. "Go
have fun. I'll just be here, trying not to look down."

"I'll only be a few minutes," he said, shouting again since the bubble Lily had made was gone.

"Stay far away from that mist!" Hermione shouted back.

"I will," she saw him mouth.

"And don't die!"

"Of course not, it's not in the plan!" he yelled back. He was hovering in the air, just where his dad had been, then
gave her a beaming smile and winked, looking more like James than he ever had before. Hermione's heart broke
as he dove after his parents.

After their flight to the waterfall, the group returned to the campsite to prepare for their trek through the ominous
mist. They were sitting around the ashes from their earlier fire as Hermione launched into her explanation. "It's
actually good we left Egypt early, since that gives us two days to take a shot at making it to Fall's End. As I was
telling Harry earlier, only 5-10% of the people who attempt the journey are successful."

"Is that it? 5-10%?" an unfamiliar voice said from Hermione's left. "No wonder we haven't made it yet,
Margaret."

The group turned in unison to find a middle-aged couple standing under a tree at the edge of the clearing.
Hermione instantly regretted lifting the wards around their campsite. The man took a step forward and James and
Harry jumped to their feet, pulling their wands out of their robes in one swift motion.

"Whoa!" The man stumbled backward as he held his hands up in front of him, then said in a heavy Australian
accent, "No need for wands. We're friendly. I'm Michael and this is my wife, Margaret."

Margaret gave them a small wave, seemingly unphased by the harsh welcome they'd received. "Our friends call
us M & M," she added, also in an Australian accent.

"Like the sweets?" Hermione asked.

Michael and Margeret exchanged a knowing look. "You must be a muggleborn," Michael said. "We only get that
comment from their lot." There was an unmistakable edge to his tone that caused Harry's anger to flare.

"Their lot?" James said cooly, stealing the words right out of Harry's mouth.

"We don't mean it like that!" Michael replied, affronted. "We're not those sorts of wizards. We love muggleborns,
don't we Margaret?"

"Oh, yes," she chimed in. "Our neighbor's a muggleborn and he's a very decent chap."

Harry wasn't appeased and by the look of it, his dad didn't buy it either. Something about these two seemed off.

"Anyway," Michael said, keeping his eyes trained on James and Harry's wands, "we heard you talking about
making your way through the mist. We've been trying for two weeks."

"Two weeks? What's gone wrong for you?" Hermione asked, standing as she did so. Harry took a step closer to
her. Hermione could tell he was in full Auror-mode, but ignored him and focused back on Michael, eager to get as
much information out of the man as she could.

"We inhaled the mist," Michael said simply. "It's bound to happen if you're out there for long enough. One of us
makes one wrong step and—that's it. But we've got a solid path we've created with a bit of trial and error, and
we're close. Maybe just half a mile left to chart out."

"What happens when you inhale the mist?" Lily asked.

Margaret shivered and turned to Michael. "How to explain?" Harry didn't need them to explain. Their obvious
fear at the mere mention of the mist was enough to freeze his insides.

"That bad?" Lily asked.

Margaret nodded solemnly. "It plays out your heart's deepest fears and it feels...alarmingly real, when it's
happening."

"You've been going through that for two weeks?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, well, we're chasing enlightenment—yeah?" Michael said. "You can't come by that too easily. We take
turns going first, so only one of us goes through it a day. Plus—I wouldn't say we've become used to it—but
we've learned how to manage it a little better. It usually lasts about four hours, but you can cut that time by half if
you give the victim a tea made with those leaves there." He pointed to a shrub a few feet away with large, dark
green leaves.

"And you need to get out as quickly as possible," Margaret added, "since if you both collapse, well…"

"Well, what?" James asked.

"That's it—isn't it?" Michael said matter-of-factly. "You both collapse out there and the animals get you. Which
brings us to our reason for dropping by." He looked over at Margaret and nodded for her to take over.

"Maybe we can help each other," Margaret suggested. Her eyes darted to Hermione and Harry thought he saw a
flash of doubt there. "We have a good system and with more people we could—"

"No," Harry said sharply. "We prefer to work alone."

"But we appreciate the advice," Hermione added. Harry rolled his eyes. She was too nice.

Michael looked to each of them, then sighed when he realized they weren't going to change their minds. "We
should have known from the start," he murmured to his wife. "Brits are so paranoid."

"I can't imagine why," Harry said sarcastically. "What recent event in our history would have led to that?"

James snorted as Michael wrapped his arm around Margaret and turned to leave. "We get when we're not
welcome. No need to be rude, boy."

Once they were out of sight, Hermione recast the wards around their immediate area while Harry said, "Sorry. I
just got a bad feeling about them. It was obvious they didn't like muggleborns."

"Yeah, I got that too," James said, reaching out to squeeze Lily's hand.

Hermione just shrugged.

"I hate that you're used to that," Harry said in a low voice.

She gave him a small smile. "It's fine, plus they answered a question I couldn't find anywhere in my research
about what the mist actually does. All I could find were warnings not to inhale it."

"Is it okay that I sent them away?" Harry asked her. "Did you need any more information from them?"

Hermione shook her head.

"And we didn't need them to make it to Fall's End, right?" Harry asked. "I assumed you already had a plan and
that it was much better than theirs."

"I do and it is," she said with a smile. "But I can't take the credit. We have a secret weapon they don't have." She
looked at James.
"Is this where me being an Animagus comes into play?" he asked.

"Yes. Look here." Hermione picked up a stick and began drawing in the dirt at her feet. She drew a large rectangle
and put an X on the far side and an O on the side closest to her. "We're here," she said, pointing at the O, "and
Fall's End is at that X. But we have to get through this mist. The problem is, like I said before, most of it renders
magic useless and if you inhale it—well,you all heard what happens."

"So, how do we get through it safely?" Harry asked, emphasizing the last word.

Hermione started drawing smaller circles inside the large rectangle. "There are small areas where magic can be
used spread throughout the mist. We need to find them and use them as stepping stones to get through the mist to
the bottom of the waterfall."

"Okay...and where does James come into play?" Lily asked.

"The mist doesn't affect animals," Hermione said with a smile.

"Oh. So I just turn into a stag and run straight for the waterfall, fill up our water bottles with the magic water, and
bring it back?"

"No. It's not that easy."

"Yeah," James sighed. "I thought that sounded too easy. Does it only work if you drink directly from the pool or
something like that?"

"Precisely." Hermione turned back to her diagram. "Luckily, you turn into an animal that can cover a lot of
distance. So, what you need to do is sweep the area," she moved the stick in a line along the length of the
rectangle, "until you find a pocket of magic. Then you stop, transform back into your human form, and cast a
Bubble-Head Charm immediately."

"Then what? I send you the coordinates with a Patronus? Will you be able to Apparate in?"

"According to everything I read, yes. But you don't need to send a Patronus." Hermione pulled a galleon that was
adhered to a leather strap from her backpack. "Wear this coin around your neck," she said, handing it to James.

"It will transmit your coordinates to us on this coin," Hermione pulled another coin from her pocket.
"Unfortunately, it will only work in the magical areas, but those are the most dangerous, since that's when you'll
be transforming. This way even if something happens, like if you accidentally inhale the mist before you can send
a Patronus, we'll know where you are."

James placed the coin around his neck, then took the stick from Hermione and drew a line from the O to the X.
"Why don't I just run straight in and transmit the coordinates of Fall's End, bypassing the magical stepping stones
altogether?"

Hermione shook her head. "Again, too easy. Our Apparition range will be severely diminished in the mist. We'll
only be able to make jumps of about 1000 feet. So, hopping along those patches with magic is the only way.
Which reminds me—" She turned to Lily and Harry. "If anything happens in there, we won't be able to Apparate
straight back. We'll need to jump back through the magical areas, the same way we went in. I'll be taking notes
with all the coordinates and making copies for everyone at each new location, just in case."

"I don't like this," Harry announced. "Too many things can go wrong. Dad, how about you just run in, take a drink
from the pond, then come back and tell us everything you learned?"

"That was my plan B," Hermione said.

"How far is this?" James asked, ignoring Harry's suggestion as he gestured to the line he'd drawn between the O
and the X.

"Just under two miles," Hermione replied, placing a comforting hand on Harry's leg.
 James nodded thoughtfully, then jumped to his feet and said, "Okay! Let's do this."

"No," Harry said. "If anything happens to you when you're in those non-magical areas, we won't be able to help
you. We won't even know if something's gone wrong."

"Come on," James nudged his arm. "Where's your sense of adventure? Plus, I've battled Werewolves in my stag
form. I'll be fine."

Harry gave his mum a pointed look, but she just shrugged and said with a small smile, "I sort of want to try it."

"James, I need to warn you about something," Hermione cut in, her tone serious. "When you're traveling through
the areas with no magic, it will feel...awful." Her eyes shifted to Harry for a second and he knew she was
remembering that spell she'd cast on him back at the Department of Mysteries.

"You'll feel empty and powerless and may start to panic a bit," she continued, "worrying you'll be stuck in your
animal form forever. It will require a lot of mental fortitude. I think you can do it, but, uh, don't want you to go
into this blindly."

"Now you just made him want to do it more," Lily said, which seemed accurate based on the look of anticipation
in James's eyes.

"I can handle it, but thanks for the warning," James replied. He stood up and pulled his pack off, then handed it to
Lily as he added in a bad Australian accent, "Like our friend Michael said, you don't get enlightenment without a
bit of work." The next moment, he was a stag.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Years of hearing about his dad being able to turn into a stag and seeing the animal in
his Patronus hadn't prepared him for the impressive sight of the full-grown stag close-up. This insane plan was
almost worth it, just so he could see his dad like this. Almost, but not quite. "For the record," Harry grumbled, "I
really, really hate this."

Lily nudged his side. "Since when are you such a worrier? Is Hermione rubbing off on you?"

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed. Lily just shrugged and followed after James, who had disappeared into the forest.

Hermione wrapped an arm around Harry and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"I'm not worried about me."

"We're all going to be fine, Harry. You forget, but your parents were fighting in a very dangerous war just a few
years ago. They're very capable. I'm an Unspeakable and you're a fully-qualified Auror."

Harry eyed her warily. "My mum's right. Since when are you so daring?"

She smiled mischievously. "I'm taking a risk in the hopes that at the end of it, I'll find a spectacular discovery."

Harry understood then. He could see the hint of desperation in her eyes. The same emotion that had driven her to
come to this universe with Harry in the first place and—how had she put it?—burn everything down. She was
still searching for that "thing" she thought was missing from her life and expected to find it after drinking from
the water at Fall's End.

"Fine," Harry said with a sigh, taking her hand as they chased after his parents. "Just don't let anyone get hurt.
Okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. It's not in the plan," she teased.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: The inspiration for this Wonder was Angel Falls in Venezuela. They've finally reached that point in the
trip where people are getting on each other's nerves. I've been on countless trips with other couples,
including my parents and in-laws, and can confirm this happens every time, usually about halfway in, which
is where we are now.

Next chapter...enlightenment. Get excited!

 Fall's End, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

A few hours later, Harry, Hermione, and Lily were sitting cross-legged in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by
a charmed bubble that kept the mist away, as they waited for James to send the next pair of coordinates. They'd
been playing a game to pass the time but had stopped after the thirty-five-minute mark, which was the longest
James had been away so far.

"How long has it been now?" Lily asked.

Harry checked his watch. "Forty-five minutes."

Lily nodded slowly.

Hermione could tell she was trying to hide her rising panic. She reached for Lily's hand and as soon as their skin
touched, Lily jumped. "Oh! Coordinates! Look!" Hermione looked at the coin on the ground and sure enough, a
series of numbers were appearing in glowing red letters.

Lily snatched the coin up and memorized the numbers before handing it to Harry and Hermione. "I'll see you
there?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. We'll be right behind you."

Harry and Hermione applied Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before Apparating to the coordinates on the
coin. When they reappeared, they were in another, smaller clearing with a fallen tree in the center. The mist kept
them from seeing anything further than twenty feet away, but even with the limited visibility, the forest seemed
denser. Just like in the other Wonders, the magic felt foreign to Harry. Not Dark, but strange enough to make him
feel on-edge.

He wiped away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead before turning to his dad, who was in a bubble of clean
air at the edge of the clearing, retching into a shrub. Harry wondered how he had anything left to throw up.

He watched his mum enter the bubble and begin rubbing his dad on the back as she held out a vial of
Rejuvenation Potion. Hermione started chanting and Harry turned and watched her cast a large bubble around the
area, clean the air inside, then step through the barrier and drop the Bubble-Head Charm around her head.

After six times going through this, they had the routine down. His dad was always sick after spending so much
time roaming the forest without magic. After James was finished throwing up the contents of his stomach, Lily
forced him to drink several glasses of water and a dose of Rejuvenation Potion. Then she ran a series of
diagnostic spells to check his energy levels.

Hermione was the one who set up the area for them, casting the protective bubble and cushioning charms on the
ground. Harry's only job was to sit back and worry about everyone, which he was very good at.

He sighed and went to join Hermione inside the bubble. Soon, they were joined by his parents. Harry scanned
James's face as he took a seat on the fallen tree. He was relieved to see that his dad was already getting his color
back as he sipped on the bright purple potion. James had his wand gripped tightly in his hands and was sending
out occasional sparks. He'd explained that this helped him feel the magic flowing through his veins, which was
comforting after being forced to wander through the forest without it.

"Okay, James," Lily said sternly. "It's time to call it. We've made excellent progress and Hermione has been
taking diligent notes so tomorrow, we can Apparate back here and you can pick up where you left off."
"Come on, Lil. We're so close. I can hear the waterfall when I'm out there. My guess is we only have two more
jumps to make."

"Perfect. We can make those jumps tomorrow."

"How about one more?"

Lily crossed her arms and continued to fix him with a stern glare.

"You saw the spells, Lil. I'm fine. Do you want to cast them again?"

"Your energy levels may be fine but you're not. You're sick, James, and you look like a corpse."

"A handsome corpse?" he grinned.

Lily just rolled her eyes.

"Relax," he said, reaching out to grab her arm. "I just want to get as many of these forest sweeps out of my way
today so that tomorrow, when we finally reach this magical pond of Enlightenment, I don't feel like shit. How
about I take one more run of the forest, then we'll go right back to the campsite?"

Lily let out a large exhale. "Has anyone told you how impossible you are, Potter?"

"Yes. I've heard 'impossible,' quite a lot, Evans. Not as much as 'arrogant toerag,' though," he added with a wink,
coaxing a small smile out of Lily.

"That better not be what this is about," she grumbled. "We all know you're wonderful. There's no need to prove
it."

"She's right," Hermione chimed in. "Even I think you're wonderful, despite the fact that I spend most of my time
trying to refrain from hexing you."

James laughed. "If anyone should be hexing the other, it should be me hexing you. 'You'll get to lead...It will be so
fun and dangerous,'" he said in a pretty good impersonation of Hermione. "This is the worst job and don't pretend
you didn't know it."

Hermione cringed. "Sorry, James."

"I have a way you can make it up to me. Learn how to transform into an animal tonight, then take over the forest
sweeps tomorrow."

Hermione smiled. "I'll get right on it. But as most people transform into the same animal as their Patronus, I don't
think I'll be super helpful."

James snorted. "Yeah, a river otter wouldn't be much help right now. Why can't your Patronus be a bird?"

"Probably because she's terrified of heights," Harry suggested. James nodded thoughtfully. "I'm with Mum,"
Harry added. "Let's go back to the campsite and pick this up again tomorrow."

James clicked his tongue. "You've been wanting to go back to the campsite since we started. If I didn't know any
better, I'd say you didn't want to find Enlightenment."

Harry just shrugged. No, he didn't want to find Enlightenment. Or, more accurately, for his parents to find it.

"I already feel like myself again," James said, standing up. "It's just that initial shock that gets me. I'll find the
next magical spot, then we'll go back."

James transformed into a stag. Lily reached out and placed her palm on his face. "Stay safe," she whispered.
The stag nodded, then turned toward the edge of the clearing. Harry saw him hesitate, stepping forward, then
back a few times before finally galloping into the mist.

"That man is going to give me a heart attack one day," Lily said once the sound of his hooves had subsided. She
plastered a smile on her face and wrapped an arm around Harry, then added, "But he'll be fine. Though he's going
to lord this over us for months to come. Probably years."

Even though Lily's tone was light and she looked like her usual calm self, Hermione could see the hint of
uncertainty in her eyes. Maybe because she knew those eyes so well, or maybe it was because she knew how Lily
was feeling.

Lily and Hermione both had to stay behind while their loved ones went off to hunt Dark Wizards, unable to do
anything but pray they'd return safely. One of the reasons Hermione threw herself into her work was so she didn't
have to sit at home worrying about how her fiancé and best friend were in the field and could be injured, or
worse, at any moment. She was going to need something to replace that distraction, now that she didn't have a job
anymore.

"Do you want to keep playing the game?" Harry suggested, eager for something to divert his attention from
thoughts of his dad out there, all alone.

"Yeah," Lily said as she removed a pile of leaves from her pocket and placed them on the ground in front of her.
"Not a word to your dad though. If he finds out we were having fun while he's out there suffering, we'll never
hear the end of it."

"Got it," Harry nodded. "Erm, who was next? Hermione?"

"Yes," Hermione said, looking up at the cloud of mist above the bubble as she tried to think. "I guess I'll go with,
'I've never attended Hogwarts in my Seventh Year.'" Both Lily and Harry grabbed a leaf and added it to their
piles. Harry stuck his tongue out at Hermione and she smiled back. Back in their world, she wouldn't have got
him with that one.

"Okay, I'm next," Lily said, stopping to think.

When Hermione first suggested this game, Harry thought she was crazy, since surely, his mum would find out
they weren't the real Harry and Hermione. But they weren't as out of their depth as Harry initially thought. They'd
learned a lot about their other selves through the photos they'd reviewed in China.

Also, the game provided another means for Harry to learn about his mum. It had already led to her telling them
several stories from her time at Hogwarts.

"I've never been left out of the Slug Club," Lily said slyly, then added, "Sorry, Harry."

Harry added another leaf to his pile as he shook his head, pretending to look annoyed. Sometimes, like now, the
game provided more insight into the other Harry's life. Now, he knew Slughorn was the Potions Professor while
he was at school and that Harry hadn't been in his exclusive club. He must have been replaced by Neville. Harry
didn't mind one bit but wondered if the other Harry was sore about it.

"I've never…" Harry began, looking at everyone's piles of leaves. His was so much larger, which meant he was
losing. "I've never had muggle parents."

Lily gasped. "You're going to target us for being muggleborns? Shame on you!" Harry could tell by the gleam in
her eyes she was kidding.

"You've been prejudiced against muggleborns this whole time?!" Hermione asked, a smile playing on her lips.
"Were you planning to tell me before we were married?!" This made Lily laugh.

"Hey!" Harry said defensively. "You two have been targeting me all day." He began counting on his fingers as he
listed their statements from earlier rounds, "I've never been a Quidditch captain, I've never owned an invisibility
cloak, I've never been gifted a map of Hogwarts."
"You could have targeted us in a less offensive way," Hermione pointed out. "Like, 'I've never slept in the
Gryffindor girl's dormitory.'"

"Fine. I'll do that one next time. But for now, you each get a leaf."

Hermione grabbed a leaf and added it to her pile, holding his gaze the whole time. Then she grinned and said,
"I've never slept in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory."

"Cheap shot," he said as he reached for another leaf. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and saw
his mum reaching for a leaf too. "Mum!"

"What? I've done that," she said simply.

"I don't want to know that!" he cried. "Wait—it was with dad, right? Actually, no, don't tell me."

Harry covered his ears with his hands while Hermione burst into laughter. Then, a lot of things happened at once.

Something glowing shot at them from the forest, heading straight for Hermione. Hermione squealed and jumped
out of the way as a booming voice filled the air around them, speaking in a language Harry didn't understand. He
turned to ask Hermione if she could translate the words when he noticed she was half outside the bubble. He
watched her eyes widen in alarm and the next second, before she had a chance to hold her breath, her eyes rolled
back into her head and she went limp.

"Hermione!"

He dove after her, not even stopping to cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself, so he was surprised to find his
vision distorted by the curved edge of a familiar translucent barrier a moment later. It must have been his mum.
Harry praised her quick thinking. He'd been stupid to jump into the mist without protecting himself first, but he'd
only been thinking about Hermione.

He gathered her into his arms and cast a Bubble-Head Charm on her to keep her from breathing in any more of
the mist. Her brown eyes were open wide and as he watched them, they clouded over, as if the mist she'd inhaled
was settling into them. Harry's blood ran cold. "Mum, I need to—"

"I know." She was standing next to him and holding out a copy of the coordinates Hermione had written down,
marking the magical areas in the forest. "Make sure you stop and focus before each Apparition," Lily said,
placing a comforting hand on Harry's arm. "I'll gather our things and be right behind you."

Harry took a deep breath, then stood up, pulling Hermione along with him. He checked the coordinates of his first
Apparation point, gripped her tightly, and turned on his toe. After five more Apparations, Harry was back at the
campsite. He ran into the tent and gently laid Hermione on the couch. He removed both of their Bubble-Head
Charms and crouched down next to her.

Her face contorted like she was in pain, and the mist in her eyes was so thick now, he couldn't see the brown of
her irises anymore. Harry gently closed her eyelids and laid his forehead against her side. He took her hand and
squeezed it. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I don't know what to do to help you."

As he spoke the words, he remembered the tea the Australians mentioned this morning. They said it would reduce
the time of her suffering by half. He got to his feet just as his mum came into the tent, holding the very leaves he
was about to go and pick.

"I'll make the tea," she said, Summoning the teapot from the kitchen. She filled it with water and boiled it with
her wand, then Harry watched her throw the leaves into the pot. "What do you think? Five minutes?" she asked.

"Sure," Harry said, his voice catching in his throat.

Lily set her wand alarm, then went to join Harry. He'd taken a seat on the coffee table next to the couch and was
still holding Hermione's hand. Lily reached over him to place Hermione's wand on the side table near her head.
"She'll want that nearby when she wakes up."
Harry nodded as tears stung his eyes. "Thank you," he forced out.

Lily leaned against him. "She's going to be okay, Harry. You saw the Australians. They've gone through this
multiple times and are just fine."

Harry nodded, then reached forward and pulled down Hermione's shirt, which had hiked up slightly, showing the
edge of that nasty wound. "What about dad? How do we—?"

"Don't worry about it," Lily cut in. "I've got the coin here and as soon as I see his coordinates, I'll send a Patronus
and tell him what happened."

Hermione flinched and Harry felt her pain, like it was his own. A curl fell into her face when she moved her head
and he reached forward and pushed it away. "What was that thing that flew at her?" he asked, keeping his eyes
trained on Hermione. Whatever it was seemed familiar, but Harry wasn't thinking straight and couldn't place it.

"It was a Fire Lizard. I think the Liu ancestors were finally responding to her message."

Harry recalled the foreign language that had boomed through the clearing. Mandarin. Of course. "Great timing,"
he said darkly.

"Yeah."

Hermione's brow furrowed and he wondered what she was seeing. Her heart's deepest fear. That's what Margaret
had said. What would that be for Hermione? He reached out and tried to smooth the lines of her forehead.

Lily's wand alarm went off and she went to pour the tea into a cup. Harry knelt back at Hermione's side and
reached his hand out for the teacup. Over the next few minutes, he carefully poured the tea into her mouth, lifting
her chin every few seconds to ensure the liquid made it down her throat.

When the tea was gone, he placed the cup on the table and took a seat on the ground as he laid his head against
her side, wanting to be as close to her as possible. She inhaled sharply and Harry squeezed his eyes shut. His
mind was trying to pull him back to Malfoy Manor: Hermione's screams, Ron banging on the door of the
dungeon, searching frantically for any way out as each of her distant cries hit him like shards of glass.

He tried his best to clear his mind, though he'd never been good at it. He needed to stay calm and level-headed
until she was conscious again. Then he could break down, once he knew she was safe.

Lily had resumed her seat on the coffee table and was watching him, her eyes swimming with concern. "She's
going to be okay, Harry. This isn't like last time."

Hermione cringed again. "She's in pain, Mum," he said in a broken voice. "And all I can do is sit here and watch
her suffer."

Lily reached out and patted his arm. "You'll be here when she wakes up. And I promise she'll be fine. She's
incredibly strong."

"I know," he whispered as he looked back at Hermione. Her face was calm and he hoped that was a good sign. He
saw his mum jump and turned to find coordinates appearing on the surface of the coin she had in her hand.

"You should go," Harry said. "Tell him what happened in person."

"It's okay, Harry. I can stay."

"No, go. There's nothing else we can do for Hermione and dad will probably be sick again. He shouldn't have to
recover and make his way back here alone."

Lily reached forward and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.
She kissed the side of his head, then touched Hermione's arm before standing up, pulling her wand out of her
pocket. "I'll be right back," she said before applying a Bubble-Head Charm and Disapparating.

Harry turned back to Hermione. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing seemed adequate. So he just
stayed quiet as he laid his head against her waist and looked up at her, his chest clenching painfully every time
she winced or let out a small moan.

Hermione was standing on a black stage with a smooth mirror finish. There was nothing around her, just a thick
white fog, billowing as if it was being cast about by the wind, but the air was still against her skin. There was no
sound, besides her heart beating in her chest. She'd never heard it this loudly and as she listened, its pace became
erratic.

She had an odd thought that if she was on a stage, and this was a show, that her heart was the star. But where was
the audience? She didn't know where she was but one thing she was certain of: she was utterly and completely
alone.

As she focused inward, she got the strange feeling that something was burrowing in her veins, expanding her
blood vessels as it made its way through her body, on its way to her heart. Once the unknown thing reached her
heart, it seemed to explode into tiny pieces. She felt as if millions of ants were crawling around her insides. She
screamed and collapsed to the ground.

Hermione was in the Forbidden Forest, following behind Hagrid. It was nighttime and there was an eerie feeling
in the air, making her hair stand on end. What was she doing here? It took her a few moments to remember as she
walked quickly on the path to keep up with Hagrid's long strides. Detention. That's right. She'd received detention
for being caught out of bed at night. They'd been delivering Norbert to Charlie's friends and Malfoy had told on
them.

Red sparks appeared in the air to their left and Hagrid swore. "Summat's wrong," he grumbled. "If 's Malfoy
again… Stay here, you two." Hagrid ran after the sparks and Hermione noticed that she wasn't alone. Neville was
there, several paces behind her, looking terrified.

She lit her wand and gestured for him to do the same, then took a seat on a log. "Let's sit here until he's back," she
said kindly. "Don't worry. Hagrid said we'd be safe on the path."

Hagrid was gone for a long time and Hermione knew something was wrong, but didn't want to upset Neville.
Should they make their way out of the forest themselves? Voices filled the air and she stood and raised her lit
wand, trying to think of all the spells she knew and which would be the best to cast at an adversary. It was
McGonagall.

"There you are."

"Professor?"

McGonagall looked unbelievably sad. "Detention is over," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "Let's get you
back to the castle."

As they walked, Hermione heard more voices in the distance. This was bad. Something bad had happened.
"What's wrong Professor?" she asked as politely as possible. "What happened? Is it something with Harry and
Malfoy?"

McGonagall turned on the path and placed a firm hand on Hermione's shoulders. "There was an accident, Dear.
We could have never imagined he was here, this close." She cut off and Hermione waited patiently for her to
continue. "It was You-Know-Who, in the forest and he—Mr. Potter—he's gone, Miss Granger."

"What? No." Her legs went weak and it was all she could do to stay standing. Harry? Gone? She stumbled to the
ground, her legs finally giving way. Harry couldn't be gone. He was one of her only friends.
The scene changed.

Hermione was in the Hospital Wing. There was a crowd of professors in the room and as she looked around, she
saw Colin Creevey, Penelope Clearwater, and Justin Finch-Fletchely on the beds closest to her. It took her brain a
few minutes to piece together what was happening.

The basilisk. She'd been with Penelope in the hall and told her to use the mirror to peer around every corner.
Then, large yellow eyes, and nothing. But now they were awake. Professor Sprout must have finished the
Mandrake Draught.

Her eyes searched the room and landed on Ron, huddled in the corner. "Ron!"

He slowly made his way to her bed and she could tell instantly something was wrong. He was paler than she'd
ever seen him and it was clear by his red, puffy eyes he'd been crying. "What is it, Ron? What happened?"

"I don't know how to put this. It's—" His voice cracked.

"Just tell me."

"Harry died. You were right about the snake and we went down there, because it had Ginny. And I was separated
from him and he—he saved Ginny, of course he did that, but the snake got him. Killed him."

"He's...gone?" Hermione's brain, which had never failed her, which was able to solve even the most complicated
riddles, couldn't accept this fact. As tears flooded her eyes and sobs threatened to overtake her, she had a fleeting
thought that she wished they hadn't woken her up.

The scene changed again.

She was in the stands at the Triwizard Tournament, facing the walls of the maze. She had nail marks on her face
and the insides of her palms and wished there was some way for them to know what was going on in there. Fleur
and Viktor had been removed from the maze, but they didn't have any more details.

Was it really that dangerous? She wished she could take it as a good sign that Harry hadn't been pulled out, but
something was clearly wrong. Dumbledore had disappeared into the maze fifteen minutes ago and still wasn't out.
Why had he gone in there? What had happened?

Just as Dumbledore's tall, thin frame appeared at the entrance to the maze, two figures dropped out of the sky in
front of him. They fell into a heap on the ground. Hermione could see red and yellow on their clothes and guessed
it was Harry and Cedric. But what were they doing? Had they touched the cup and been transported out of the
maze? Why were they still lying on the ground? Why didn't they stand up?

She made her way forward, not caring who she was pushing past. She had to get to Harry. Dumbledore was
crouched down next to them. He looked up at McGonagall and shook his head. Then he ran his hand over Harry's
face—she could tell it was him, she was close enough to see his dark hair and glasses. What was he doing?

Then, it hit her. He was closing Harry's eyes in that way people did in movies when someone had died. Harry was
dead? No!

There was screaming and it took Hermione a while to notice it was coming from her.

Strong arms engulfed her. "It's okay."

It was Ron. Why was he so calm? He must not have figured it out. She buried her head in his chest and cried. "It's
okay," he said again.

But they were empty words. Harry was gone and things were never going to be okay again.

It continued like that for what felt like forever. Hermione was forced to replay the most terrifying scenes from her
childhood, all those close-calls, but this time, Harry didn't get lucky and escape. He died every time.
He was crushed by a flying statue while Dumbledore fought Voldemort at the Ministry. He was killed at the top of
the Astronomy tower by Bellatrix, who discovered him hiding under the stairs just after Snape killed
Dumbledore. During the seven Potters mission, he was killed in flight and his body was never found.

He was caught during their break-in at the Ministry to retrieve Slytherin's locket and was killed publicly, as
Voldemort wanted to make an example out of him. Nagini dealt him a blow at Godric's Hollow that Hermione
couldn't heal. At Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix's knife stabbed Harry in the heart, instead of Dobby. At Gringotts, he
was buried under a pile of treasure. And finally, when Hagrid walked him out of the Forbidden Forest the night of
the Final Battle, he stayed dead. There was a funeral for him and everything.

The stabbing pain in her heart intensified with each death. She supposed it was because as time went on, her love
for Harry had grown. She thought if she had to see him die one more time, the blow would finally do her in. "I
can't bear it," she whispered to Ron, who had an arm wrapped around her at Harry's funeral. She was dreading
what she'd be forced to see next but the following scene wasn't a memory. Somehow, she'd broken the spell.

She was back at the Department of Mysteries, standing next to the portal to the other dimensions. Harry was
standing next to her, patting his body.

"We're back?" she asked, trying to make sense of what had happened.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, taking her by the shoulders. His eyes scanned her body and once he seemed
satisfied that she wasn't injured, he dropped her arms and took a step backward.

Hermione threw herself at him. "Oh, thank God," she murmured. "It was awful, Harry. I had to watch you die.
Over and over again. And it felt so real. This distant part of me knew it wasn't but it—it was and—"

He stiffened in her arms. She let go of him and stepped back. "Harry? What happened? Why are we back?"

He was avoiding her gaze, staring off into the portal again. "The mist got you. And you didn't wake up. We gave
you the tea and nothing worked. You were...trapped. So I brought us back, thinking it was the only way and...I
guess it worked."

Hermione's heart fell as she saw tears wet his eyes. Shit. He had to leave early. No wonder he was upset. She
reached out and placed a tentative hand on his arm. "I'm sorry we had to end the trip prematurely. Did you—um
—get a chance to say goodbye?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned away from her. "You shouldn't have done it," he said sharply.

Hermione dropped her head.

"You're in the middle of some life crisis and you dragged me along with you and you—you had no right! You
knew I wouldn't say no, you knew I'd want to stay and now—now I have to go on knowing they're out there and
that I don't get to see them. How am I supposed to be okay with that?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry," she said as tears streamed down her face. She knew he'd be in pain, but this
was more than she'd been expecting. "I was trying to do a good thing."

"No," he said, his green eyes filling with rage. "You were being selfish and manipulative. This was about you, not
me. Don't stand there and try to pretend otherwise."

She felt like he'd slapped her. "I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I'm just lost and scared—just like you and—I
was searching for something and a part of me knew I had to do it with you. It's always us, isn't it? We help each
other, stay by each other's side and now—we're going to get through this. I can help you get through this. We can
talk and—"

"I don't want to talk to you. I'll talk to Ginny and Ron. You…" He sighed and turned away from her. When he
spoke next, his voice was cold and flat. "I think you've been a good friend in the past and maybe we were a good
team before but...people change. They grow and we—maybe we've outgrown each other."
"What? That's it? We're not friends anymore?"

Harry shrugged. "You're going to marry Ron, so we'll see each other all the time." He said it like he wished it
wasn't true. "But just me and you... no. I'm done."

Without another word, he walked away, the sound of his footsteps echoing around the marble walls.

Hermione felt completely lost. This was so much worse than all the deaths she'd witnessed in the other world
because this time, Harry had chosen to leave her. She dropped to her knees and began crying into her hands. That
was it. No more Harry. She wailed as sobs shook her body.

Some indeterminable amount of time later—between five minutes and five hours, a wind started blowing her hair
around her face. She looked up from her palms and saw a thick fog entering the room through the portal. Once it
was surrounding her, and she could see nothing besides white, she heard Harry's voice again.

This time his voice was tender, not cold and unfeeling, like before. "Hermione?"

She wanted to call out to him, but her voice was swallowed up by the fog.

"Hermione. Open your eyes."

But her eyes were already open.

He said it again, more insistent now. "Open your eyes. Please, Hermione."

She wiped her tears with the edge of her shirt, closed her eyes tight, took a deep breath, then opened them again.

Harry stayed in that same spot on the floor, lying against Hermione's side, for two hours. His dad came back and
cast a few diagnostic spells on her and Harry didn't bother telling him it was no use, because he'd already cast
those spells and they'd turned up nothing. He probably wasn't supposed to know all those spells, since he'd only
learned them in his world from Auror training.

When James was finished, he turned to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be okay."

Harry gave him a curt nod. His dad studied him and Harry wondered distantly if he was behaving abnormally
again. He couldn't find the energy to worry about it.

His mum and dad disappeared into the kitchen to make a meal. Perhaps lunch, or maybe even dinner. Harry didn't
know or care what time it was. When his mum brought a plate of food and a steaming mug of tea and set it on the
coffee table, Harry didn't touch them.

"No," Hermione whispered.

Harry perked up and shifted closer to her head. This was the first time Hermione had said something he could
understand. It had just been unintelligible moans for the past couple hours, with a lot of sharp intakes of breath
and wincing mixed in. He watched her face slacken, then her eyelids fluttered slightly, like she was trying to open
them but couldn't for some reason.

"Hermione?"

He grabbed her hand and felt a faint pressure there. Had she squeezed his hand? Was she finally waking up? He
released a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Hermione. Open your eyes."

Her brow furrowed again but this time it didn't look like she was in pain, just that she was concentrating hard. He
cupped her face in his hand and her eyelids fluttered again, but stayed closed.

"Open your eyes. Please, Hermione."

Her eyes snapped open.

"You're awake! Thank Merlin! How are you?"

Hermione looked extremely disoriented. She raised her hand up to his, which was still on her cheek, as her eyes
darted wildly around the room. Harry was so glad to find them clear of the mist and back to their normal, deep
shade of brown. "Where—? Where am I?"

"The tent. The couch, more specifically. Here." He stood and helped pull her up to a sitting position, then took a
seat on the couch next to her.

"We're not at the Department of Mysteries? Did that—did that not happen?"

Harry grabbed her face in his hands and gave her a warning glare. He could see his parents out of his periphery,
watching them from the other side of the room.

"We've never been to the Department of Mysteries," he said slowly, hoping to give her brain time to catch up.
"You must have imagined that."

Realization flickered across her face and she dropped her eyes. "Yes. Of course."

Harry pulled his hands away from her face, but didn't move away from her. He still wasn't sure she was okay. He
was about to grab his wand from the table and cast a few diagnostic spells when she placed a hand on his heart.
She fixed him with a piercing look that trapped his breath in his lungs.

"You're here," she whispered.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, still captivated by her gaze. "And so are you."

She leaned forward and he watched the fall of her long lashes as she closed her eyes, then pressed her lips to his.
Harry closed his own eyes and leaned into the kiss. He was relieved to have her back. He tilted his head and
opened his mouth, slightly pulling her bottom lip between his teeth.

Shit. Too far.

He leaned back and opened his eyes, preparing himself for the admonishing look he knew would be on
Hermione's face. But she didn't look upset. Not at all. He gave her a shy, apologetic smile and before he could
mouth, "Sorry," she was kissing him again. It wasn't like before, which was just a quick touch of the lips. This
kiss was fierce, desperate, untamed.

Hermione moved her hands to the back of his neck, digging her nails into his hair. He wrapped his arms around
her and pulled her close as he moved his lips instinctively against hers. She arched her back and pressed her chest
against his, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat.

She bit his bottom lip and heat coursed through his veins. Harry turned his head and tentatively slipped his tongue
into her mouth, where it met hers. He could feel that familiar fuzzy feeling, numbing his thoughts and setting his
body on fire, making him grow hard against his jeans.

He moved his hands to her side and gripped her waist as he continued to kiss her. He could not get enough of her.
Every inch of him craved her. He must have been wanting this for a long time. Kisses like this didn't come out of
nowhere.

Harry moved his hand lower and his fingers brushed across her skin. But it wasn't warm, like it should be. It was
cold. Realization hit Harry like a Stinging Jinx. Her wound. The other Hermione and Harry. His and Hermione's
fake relationship, which didn't feel very fake at the moment. Ginny. Ron.

He stopped kissing her. But that was all he could bring himself to do. He didn't have enough willpower to actually
pull away from her. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair, his hands were still resting on her waist, and her lips
 were just a hair away from his. He could feel her warm breath in his mouth. Taste it, even. It tasted the same as
her lips and tongue had: warm, sweet, and slightly earthy, probably from the tea he'd given her.

Hermione was the one to finally lean back. Her mouth was hanging open, lips red and swollen from kissing him,
and her eyes were wide, filled with the same expression he imagined he was wearing: a mix of shock, fear, and
desire.

They'd crossed a line. The other kisses and touches had been small, easy to explain away, almost nothing but this
—this was certainly not nothing. It wasn't the sort of thing platonic friends did.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

"I was going to go with, 'Bollocks.'"

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Oh man, it happened. And now...the fallout. Thanks for reading!

 Fall's End, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry and Hermione sat on the couch, staring at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. It was Harry
who broke their trance, shifting away from Hermione when he saw his dad approaching from the corner of his
eye. James had his wand raised and Harry guessed he'd been waiting for them to finish snogging before coming to
check on Hermione.

"Sorry," Hermione said, blushing as James took a seat on the coffee table across from her.

"For what? Kissing your fiancé? Not a crime, last I checked."

Yeah, except this isn't my fiancé, Hermione thought to herself.

She tried to blink back tears as James gently touched her chin and began to run a series of diagnostic spells, first
on her head, then the rest of her body.

Harry had to sit on his hands as he watched his dad. He wanted to be the one doing these spells, but this Harry
obviously wouldn't know about the advanced diagnostic spells typically performed on wizards who had been
injured in the field.

He watched his dad cast the standard health checks first. Then a spell to assess her mental clarity, which was
clean. He checked her energy levels, which were alarmingly low, especially her magical stamina. She'd probably
struggle to cast anything more powerful than Lumos, but that was easily cured with a full night's rest. Harry
guessed the mist had been using her magical power to do — whatever it had been doing to her.

Lastly, James cast a spell to check for Dark Magic. The results curled out of his wand tip in a spiral with several
dots illuminating the spaces between the lines. "It's clean," James muttered to himself."

"Except for that." Harry pointed to a cluster of dots near the center of the spiral. "But that's the injury Dolohov
gave her."

"You know how to read this?" James asked, dropping the spell as he turned to study Harry.

"I saw it a hundred times at St. Mungo's," Harry said with a shrug.

"This isn't a spell I thought they used there."

Shit. His dad was right. The healers didn't use this spell. They had special artifacts to check for the presence of
Dark Magic. Harry knew that, he just wasn't thinking straight. He blamed the kiss and the fact that he could still
taste her on his lips. And remember how she felt as she pressed her chest against—Focus!

"They said they typically use a magical object to check for Dark Spells, but that it was on loan, so they used that
spell instead." Harry hoped his dad would believe the lie. James looked just as tired as Hermione, probably
exhausted from running through the forest all day so hopefully, his brain wasn't firing as quickly as usual.

"Huh," James said, focusing back to Hermione, who had been watching Harry. She darted her eyes away when
Harry turned back to her, looking like a First Year who'd been caught in the halls after curfew.

"You saw your energy levels?" James asked, looking curiously between Harry and Hermione.

Hermione nodded.

"Okay...You should eat, then get right to sleep. You'll feel a lot better in the morning."
Hermione nodded again and thanked James as he got to his feet. He grabbed Harry's untouched plate of food off
the coffee table and waved his wand to reheat it.

When Hermione stood up, she felt immediately dizzy and swayed slightly on her feet. Harry caught her by the
elbow to steady her. What was he doing? Had he always been this attentive? Yes. No, not always. Or maybe...she
didn't know anymore. Hermione gave him a quick nod, careful not to look him in the eyes, before pulling her arm
away.

Harry let out a small sigh and she chanced a look at him. He looked hurt. Damn. She felt bad and almost reached
out to take his hand, but she really needed to not be touching Harry right now, so clenched her fists and kept her
hands at her side.

She took a few steps toward Lily, who'd been standing at the side of the room and watching them. "Thank Merlin
you're okay," she said, pulling Hermione into a firm embrace. "You scared me. You scared all of us."

"What, uh, flew at me?" Hermione asked, remembering that glowing thing in the forest that had caused her to
jump outside the protective bubble.

"A Fire Lizard."

"What?"

"I think it was one of the Liu ancestors responding to your message from a few days ago. A voice filled the area,
speaking in Mandarin, but we didn't catch it. We were focused on you."

"Oh," Hermione said with a shrug. "That's pretty awful timing."

"That's what Harry said." Lily smiled at Harry over Hermione's shoulder, but Hermione kept her gaze forward.

Lily started tidying Hermione's hair, slowly combing her fingers through its length and pushing several curls
behind her ears. Hermione's eyes filled with tears again. She took a shaky breath. Damn. She was a wreck. Lily
gave her a comforting smile and pulled her into another quick hug, murmuring, "You're safe now," before guiding
her to the table.

As Hermione took a seat, James placed a plate of food in front of her. There was a small chicken breast topped
with a cream sauce, a few broccoli florets, and a roll. Hermione tore a few pieces off the roll and popped them
into her mouth as Harry took a seat next to her, in front of a plate that looked identical to hers.

Lily explained that she and James had already eaten, but that they didn't mind sitting with Harry and Hermione.
After several moments of awkward silence, Lily started telling a stupid story about a neighbor of theirs at
Godric's Hollow, with an annoying puppy.

Hermione wasn't paying attention. She was too busy trying to ignore the feeling of Harry's eyes on her as she
moved food around her plate. After forcing down three bites of chicken, half the roll, and a piece of broccoli,
Hermione excused herself from the table.

Lily put a hand on her arm, holding her in place. "Hermione. You need to tell us what you saw. Bottling it in isn't
healthy."

How blunt. This was just how Hermione was. She liked to face problems head-on. How many times had she said
these very words to her friends? But she couldn't do it now. Not when she herself didn't understand what had
happened in her mind.

"Me and you... no. I'm done."

Hermione shook her head. "Not now, Lily. Later. I promise." She looked at James and said quickly, "Thanks for
dinner and for all the work you did today. I'm going to take a shower and get to bed. Goodnight."
She swiftly left the table before anyone could call her back. Once in her room, she gathered her shower things and
a clean pair of pajamas and disappeared into the shower room, relieved Harry hadn't tried to follow her upstairs.
When she was in the shower, under warm water, she let out a long sigh.

Tears fell down her face, mingling with the water from the shower as she finally let herself think about what the
mist had made her see. Losing Harry. Countless times. And not just to death. The scene in the Department of
Mysteries...that one had felt so real...and plausible. It could still happen, couldn't it?

No. Harry and Hermione were stronger than that. Weren't they? She rested her head against the cold tile in the
shower as she cried.

And then there was the kiss… She'd kissed him. How was she going to explain this to Ron? How was she going
to explain it to herself?

Hermione groaned. She didn't have any room in her mind for that kiss. What she needed to unpack was the places
in her mind that mist had taken her.

"It plays out your heart's deepest fears."

Hermione conjured a sponge, filled it with soap, and began to scrub her leg as flashbacks swirled through her
head.

"Harry's gone." — "He died." — "He's not coming back."

She moved to her other leg and started scrubbing harder.

"I'm just lost and scared—just like you and—I was searching for something and a part of me knew I had to do it
with you. It's always us, isn't it?"

She moved to her middle and violently rubbed soap into the wound.

"Me and you... no. I'm done."

She let out a wail and dropped the sponge. Her heart's deepest fear was... losing Harry. Never once had she seen
herself lose Ron.

She'd been forced to watch Harry leave her so many times and after realizing what it meant, she'd kissed him and
it had been...so much more than a kiss. It was years of deep friendship, repressed longing, want, and
unconditional love, in a single action. And now that she'd done it, there was no wiping it clean, no matter how
hard she scrubbed.

Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands when Hermione walked back into the room.
He looked up and watched her freeze in the doorway. She was wearing her pajamas—the trousers this time with a
long-sleeved shirt. Her skin was still pink from the shower, and her hair was slightly damp, falling in loose curls
over her shoulders. Her mouth was hanging open slightly and Harry couldn't help but think about how kissing it
had felt, and how a part of him wanted to do it again.

His stomach lurched. This was why he was here, even though she'd made it clear over dinner she wanted nothing
to do with him. He was channeling his inner-Hermione and deciding to confront this issue before it became any
worse. "Er—hello," he began. Okay, not the best start.

Hermione nodded and closed the tent flap, then crossed the room to her trunk. She busied herself with putting her
things away, but that only took two seconds and soon, she was forced to turn around and face Harry.

"We should talk about it," Harry said.

"I told your mum I'm not ready to talk about it."
"Not what happened in your head—though we're definitely discussing that, and soon. I'm talking about what
happened after."

"Oh." Hermione shrugged. "Your dad checked me over, we had dinner, and I took a shower. What is there to talk
about?"

He glared at her as he rose from the bed and went to stand in front of her. "We kissed," he said significantly.

"We've kissed several times on this trip. We're pretending to be engaged."

"This one was different," he argued.

"We were stressed and overwhelmed and—and—I'd just woken up and you must have been worried about me
while I was out, so we kissed. It was like—a release. But it didn't mean anything."

Harry clenched his fists at his side. "Maybe the first kiss was all of that but the second one was just us kissing.
You and I, not the other Harry and Hermione. Not because we were stressed, and not because we were putting on
a show."

He was close to her now, just a foot away, and his eyes darted down to her lips. Had they always been this
alluring? Or maybe, now that he knew what it was like to really kiss her, there was no going back. Like how
when he got his glasses at seven years old and could see things clearly for the first time.

He lowered his voice before continuing. "We need to talk about this because it wasn't nothing and I—I sort of
want to do it again."

Shit. He'd said it. He hadn't meant to. But it was out and, well, at least he finally had her attention.

She looked devastated, which hurt Harry more than it should have. "It wasn't real," she whispered.

Harry flinched. "Not real?" In a louder voice, he added, "No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to go telling
everyone they repress their feelings too much, then turn around and do the same thing! Pretending that kiss was
nothing is just as bad as pretending it never happened and I'm not going to let you do either. We're going to talk
about it. Now."

"It's not worth discussing! Okay?"

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not," she said, pushing past him to put some distance between them. When it was clear Harry had no
plans to drop the topic, she added, "It had nothing to do with you and me, Harry! It was about my mountain of
stress, your emotional turmoil, and your relationship with your parents!"

Harry was beginning to wonder if that mist had caused permanent damage to her brain. But the diagnostic spells
had looked fine. Still, she was making no sense. Why weren't they sitting on the bed, talking coolly and rationally
through what had happened? That's what he'd expected. Not this bizarre argument. He took a deep breath to calm
himself. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She sat down on the bed and began talking down into her lap. "You had an awful childhood," she said gently. "We
never say the word but, frankly, you were abused. And because of that, you strive to be the type of person
everyone wants you to be, trying to earn that love you never had growing up."

Harry's legs were feeling wobbly so he went to sit next to her on the bed. He had no idea where she was going
with this nor how it had anything to do with their kiss. He wanted to cut her off, since he hated when people tried
to tell him things about himself—especially when they included his time with the Dursleys like this—but
Hermione was one of the only exceptions. Perhaps the only one.

"That's one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here," she continued, still looking down. "I wanted you to see
how much your parents love you. I know you know it, but I wanted you to feel it. I thought it would help."
"I'm glad you did," he whispered.

Hermione nodded. "And now we're here."

She took a long pause before speaking again. "We're here and I'm in the middle of a mini-life crisis, as you know,
and you're—you're with your parents and you want to please them, obviously, and be that person they want you to
be and this—us—" she waved her hand in the space between them, "—is something they obviously want.
Combine that with your own mess of emotions from being here, being jealous of the other Harry, fearing what it's
going to be like to have to go back, not to mention, the stress of the trip. I just think—I think that's what was
behind the kiss. It's the emotions, it's you trying to please your parents, it's the fact that we're familiar to each
other in this foreign world but it's...it's not us."

Harry stared at her. Was she right? Was this just Harry confusing his mess of feelings with feelings for her? It
made sense—sort of. And wasn't this what he wanted? For them to sit down and talk calmly and rationally about
what had happened. To have Hermione explain what was going on and make everything better, like she always
did?

Harry felt hollow. It was like her words were bouncing around the inside of his body, but they weren't sticking.
Something was off. He opened his mouth to say so, to tell her that while her explanation made sense, and was
very logical, it didn't match the feelings in his heart. But before he got a chance to say the words, he saw a few
tears fall onto her lap.

"I went on this path of self-discovery and I dragged you along with me," she said, her voice uncharacteristically
weak. "But it was wrong. This was all a big mistake."

"No," he whispered.

She finally turned to look at him, her brown eyes wide and filled with tears. "It was just supposed to be fourteen
days. A chance to see the world, meet your parents, maybe fix a bit of what was broken between us." She looked
back down at her lap and he watched her twirl the other Hermione's engagement ring around her finger. "We were
just pretending," she whispered, so softly he could barely hear. "It wasn't supposed to feel real."

"You just said it wasn't real. What is it? Real, or not?"

Harry regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. They caused Hermione to collapse in on herself.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and began shaking violently as sobs overtook her.

"No, shit. Sorry. I didn't mean—" He placed a hand on her arm and she flinched and shifted away from him. He
felt the pain of the rejection as acutely as if she'd slapped him.

"I—I can't do this," she said through her tears. "It—it's too much Harry. I can't be here anymore."

"No," he said, wishing he could do more to comfort her. He saw it all slipping away. Saw himself going
downstairs and admitting everything to his parents, then saying goodbye. But it was too soon. He was supposed to
have more time.

Harry got off the bed and knelt on the ground in front of Hermione, being careful not to touch her. "Hermione.
Look at me."

She just continued to cry into her hands.

"Please, Hermione?"

When she finally looked up at him, he placed his hands on her knees, letting out a sigh of relief when she didn't
flinch or pull away.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," he began. "You're right. This whole experience has been very emotional. Then you
were hurt, and I couldn't help you, and I was so glad you were back that I—I got carried away. And when we're
back, I'm going to tell Ron and Ginny all about it. How much of a mess I've been, how I took things too far and—
maybe you can help with that part? Tell them what you just told me? And Ron will probably punch me and Ginny
will hit me with one of those Bat-Bogey Hexes but it's what I deserve."

Hermione bit her lip as she looked into his pleading eyes. She knew what he was doing here. He was giving her
an out. He was offering to claim responsibility for the whole thing, when they both knew she'd been the one to
kiss him, both times. He was proposing they ignore the feelings hanging in the air between them, the ones they'd
half-admitted to tonight, and carry on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Can we stay, Hermione? Please? Can we finish out the trip?"

How could she possibly say no to him when he was looking at her like that? Vulnerable, desperate. Harry, who
had been forced to suffer more in ten years than most people had in a lifetime, but was still one of the kindest,
most compassionate people she knew. How could she deny him this one request? She nodded.

"Thank you," he breathed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on her knees. And then, it was too much again,
and she needed to be away from him. She carefully pulled out of his grasp and crawled to the top of the bed. She
pulled the covers over her body, then curled up on her side and started crying again.

The bed shifted and there was a firm hand on her back. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling herself
into a tighter ball as tears silently fell down her cheek, making her pillow wet.

"Fuck," Harry said. "You were right about me. I really can be a selfish prat sometimes."

"I never said that."

"I'm paraphrasing."

She turned onto her other side to face him. He was sitting up in bed with his legs stretched out in front of him. He
currently had his glasses off and was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to force you to stay here
against your will," he said when he saw her looking at him, lowering his hand from his face. "I promised myself a
long time ago I'd never let anyone hurt you, then I was a shit friend and did it myself. And today, I had to watch
you in pain for hours and now—I'm an idiot. Let's go. You want to go back, so we should go back. Just give me a
few hours with my parents, okay?"

Hermione was quiet. He reached out and started stroking her hair, running his fingers through her damp curls.
Hermione closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. "We shouldn't go back tonight," she said with her eyes
still closed. "I'm about to pass out and I'm a wreck. I don't like to make big decisions when I'm feeling like this.
I'm going to sleep on it and we—we can talk about it tomorrow. Decide then."

She already knew what she was going to decide. When she thought of going back—of stepping out of that portal
into the Department of Mysteries—a chill ran down her spine. How would Harry handle their return? Would
things play out as they had in her head?

She took another, shaky breath. Why was it always like this? Why was she making her decisions for Harry? She
should be making them for Ron, or, better yet, herself. What did she want?

She had absolutely no idea. At that thought, she started crying anew.

"Shit. What can I do to help you?" he asked, sounding a little panicked. She let out a half-sob/half-laugh despite
herself. He'd always hated crying witches. It's one of the things he liked so much about Ginny. She wasn't weepy.
Ginny. Hermione squeezed her eye shut and started crying harder.

Harry shifted on the bed again and she could tell from the warmth emanating off him, that he was right in front of
her, just a few inches away. "Can I hug you?" he whispered. She could feel his breath on her forehead.

She knew it was a really bad idea, especially given what she'd realized about her feelings for him today, but she
nodded her head anyway. He snaked his arms around her and she burrowed her head in his chest, savoring his
warmth, his familiar smell, and the comfort of being wrapped up in strong arms.
They stayed like that for a long time. Hermione had finally stopped crying and she could feel her mind drifting in
and out of sleep. She knew she should pull away and give Harry some space. He needed to wash up and change
into his pajamas, but she stayed in place.

"Hey," he whispered.

She hummed so he'd know she was listening.

"What did the mist make you see?"

She waited a long time before responding. "I lost everything. The things I love, the things that make my life make
sense. I lost them. Over and over again."

He let out a sigh and pulled her closer. "It wasn't real."

I'm not so sure.

Day Eight

When Hermione woke the following morning, she was warm and her head hurt. It took her a long time to fight
her way through the cloud of sleep. She was on her back and tried to turn onto her side, but there was a weight on
her, keeping her pinned to the bed. She forced her eyes open and turned her head to find Harry, asleep on his
stomach with his arm draped over her. The events of last night hit her like a bucket of cold water.

Bollocks. Not a great way to wake up after a night like that. She slunk out from under Harry's arm, stumbling
slightly out of the bed, then grabbed a clean pair of clothes and ran to the shower room.

She assessed her appearance in the mirror as she brushed her teeth for a full five minutes. She looked terrible. Her
eyes were still puffy from all the crying she'd done last night, her face was splotchy, there were lines from the
sheets pressed into her skin, and her hair was a disaster since she'd gone to bed with it still wet.

Hermione spit out her toothpaste and went to work on her hair. She combed out the knots with her fingers and
pulled it into a bun on the top of her head. That would have to do for now. Next, she splashed water on her face.
That was better, but not by much. She sighed, changed her clothes, and went down to the kitchen.

It was early and she relished having the tent to herself. She needed to sort through her thoughts and it was so
much easier to do that when she was alone. As she waited for the water for her tea to boil, she let the scenes from
the day before play through her mind.

Based on the facts, she appeared to be in love with Harry. Or...maybe not. Maybe the mist had played out this
Hermione's worst fears. This was her body. Her heart.

Those were your memories. You're reaching.

The kettle started whistling and Hermione took a break to pour the water in the teapot.

Okay, maybe she did love Harry. But that didn't mean it was romantic love. It was possible to love a friend very
deeply.

More than your own fiancé? Is that really okay?

It is if it's not romantic.

Have you already forgotten the kiss?

Hermione groaned, then poured her tea into a mug and went outside. She walked along the edge of the protective
wards as she continued to think, occasionally stopping to sip her tea.
She couldn't forget about that reasoned argument she'd come up with after Harry had confronted her. It made
perfect sense and explained why they'd been so caught up in that kiss. But it was bollocks and she knew it. At
least, it was bollocks when it came to her. She was pretty sure that was what was behind Harry's feelings. Why
else would he suddenly be interested in her, after years of not giving her a second look?

Hermione sighed and stopped to take another gulp of tea. She didn't need to figure everything out this second.
She just needed to decide if she was going to go back home or stay here for another seven days. Staying would be
better for Harry and going would be better for Ron. But what would be better for her? What did she want?

She took a breath and stopped at a small pond, the farthest spot from the tent that was still inside the protective
wards. She dried the grass with her wand and took a seat near a large tree, facing the water.

What did she want? Easy, she wanted to stay. She could feel that in her heart. The "why" behind it...that was
harder to figure out. But did it matter? She'd resolved to do what she wanted. She could unravel the motivations
behind it later. Or never, that was also a good plan.

She stayed there for a while, long after her mug was empty, just watching the fish swim around the pond and
occasionally break the surface, sending ripples through the water.

"Hey."

Hermione jumped. She'd forgotten for a moment that she was in a world with other people in it. "Hey," she said as
Harry took a seat next to her, then placed a plate piled with eggs and sausages at her feet.

"You scared the shit out of me," he said, a little sternly. "You were gone and I searched the area three times before
finding you. You're kind of hidden behind this tree here. I thought you'd left me behind."

"I'd never do that," she said to the pond.

"I know. That was my first thought, that you'd left me, but I dismissed it and thought instead that the Aussies had
come and stolen you away."

"No. I've just been here."

"Yeah."

"Thanks for the breakfast." Hermione picked up the fork on the plate and ate a small bite of eggs.

"It was the least I could do."

They were quiet for several minutes and Hermione could feel Harry's unspoken question in the air, floating
heavily between them. But he was too polite to press her. After finishing one of the sausages, she turned to him
and said, "I think we should stay."

He struggled to keep his face blank, but there was an unmistakable glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Are you sure?
Because I support you either way. I'm not just saying that. I promise."

"We have more Wonders to see. Let's stay."

Harry nodded and she turned back to her plate. He moved his gaze to the sky and watched the sunrise as she
slowly ate her food, suddenly ravenous now that her big decision was out of the way.

"Harry?" she asked once she'd eaten her fill and had pushed the plate away from her.

"Yeah?"

"We can't be a pretend couple anymore. No more hugs, no kisses, not even hand-holding. I'm sure your parents
will notice but they'll just have to think we're in a fight or something."
"Yeah. Okay," he said, his throat constricting slightly. He was disappointed, even though he'd been about to
suggest the same thing. He'd decided this morning, while taking a shower, that when he told Ron and Ginny about
how he'd taken things a little too far with Hermione, he wanted to be able to follow it up with, "and I didn't touch
her for the rest of the trip."

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and bent forward to pick up her plate and empty mug. "I can take this
back for you."

"Okay. Thanks."

"And—uh—Fall's End. We're ready to go when you are."

She turned back to the water. "I'm not going."

"What?"

"You all go on. Really. I want to stay here, enjoy this quiet, and keep far away from that mist."

"What about enlightenment? I thought—you've been chasing that unknowable thing, yeah? You don't want to try
—?"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "Why don't you just tell me about what you learned when you're back?"

Harry shook his head. He'd never seen Hermione give up the opportunity to learn something new. She seemed
broken. Just yesterday she'd been in such good spirits. Lively and beautiful—which wasn't to say she wasn't
beautiful now. She was. Like, heartbreakingly so.

The way the golden rays of the sky were illuminating her features, the way a few curls had escaped her bun and
were framing her face, the way her eyes shone in the light, wide and thoughtful. But then—there was a
somberness hanging over her. He could sense it in the way she was moving, speaking, even breathing. Broken
really was the best word for it. And he had no idea how to put her back together.

Harry wanted to reach out for her and embrace her. He wanted to rub her back as he reassured her that everything
was going to be okay. But he'd promised not to touch her. He considered telling her how much he cared about her,
but worried she'd find that just as bad as touching her, if not worse. So instead of all that, he gave her a solemn
nod before returning to the tent.

Not long after Harry left, Lily appeared and took the exact spot Harry had recently occupied. Hermione wondered
distantly if they'd planned that.

"I hear you're not coming with us," Lily said, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning into Hermione.

"Yeah. I had plenty of excitement yesterday. You can tell me how it is when you return."

"We're not going without you. And I'm not saying that to guilt you into coming," Lily added in a rush. "We're all
fine to skip it."

Hermione's head snapped toward the older witch. "What? No. James did all that work yesterday."

"James will live," Lily said simply.

Hermione expected Lily to leave after that, but she stayed. She rested her chin on her knees and sat quietly next to
Hermione. Hermione wondered if Lily was waiting for her to say something. She wouldn't mind confiding in
someone, especially someone like Lily, but she had no idea where to start.

As if sensing that Hermione was struggling to speak, Lily turned and fixed her with that intense stare of hers, the
one that had the power to stop Hermione's heart and make her do stupid things that made no sense.

"What's going on with you?" Lily asked.

"I don't want enlightenment," she said honestly. "I thought I did—before, but..."

I'm afraid of what I'll learn, she thought. What she ended up saying was, "I don't."

Lily nodded and turned back toward the water. "Harry and James think whatever you saw in the mist broke your
spirit, but I know better."

When she didn't say anything else for several moments Hermione asked, "You do?"

Lily hummed before turning toward Hermione again. "You were broken before. You've been broken this whole
time. You're not the Hermione I knew from before this whole rift. Beginning to find peace with the horrors you
were forced to face in the war, and head over heels in love with my son."

She waited for Hermione to defend herself but Hermione stayed quiet. There was nothing to say. She wasn't that
witch.

"I don't mean to say you don't love him anymore, it's clear you do, but you no longer seem happy about it."

Damn. She was astute. Was she a Legilimens? Hermione carefully dropped her gaze and looked back at the lake.

"What changed?" Lily pressed. "Something big. Is it something with your parents? Are you sick? Did the wound
worsen somehow? Perhaps you're pregnant? Or maybe it's something to do with Harry. Did something happen
there?"

Lily reached for Hermione's cheek and turned Hermione to face her. "You can tell me, Hermione. Even if it has to
do with Harry, I'll understand. I know he has flaws and I also know how few people you have in your life to
confide in."

For the first time since Hermione had arrived in this world, she was jealous of the other Hermione. Because
although she had to live with a nasty wound on her side, which never stopped causing her pain, she seemed to
have found that thing Hermione was looking for. A sense of purpose and belonging.

She had a fiancé she loved, and had probably never come close to cheating on. She had a simple job that seemed
to bring her joy. And she had this incredible woman as a surrogate mother. Who wasn't just a kind, loving,
brilliant witch, but a muggleborn, who understood Hermione so much more than Molly ever would. And in her
world, Lily was dead, killed before her life had even been allowed to start.

Hermione pressed her forehead against her knees as she started to cry. "It's none of those things," she said through
her tears. Lily wrapped her arms around Hermione and rubbed her back as she cried.

When Hermione's tears had subsided, she looked up and saw Lily watching her with that familiar, penetrating
stare. She couldn't meet that gaze for longer than a few seconds and had to turn back toward the pond.

"What did you see yesterday?" Lily asked softly, gently stroking Hermione's hair.

"I saw Harry leaving me," Hermione said, relieved to finally have someone to confide in. "I watched it happen in
a variety of ways, from him dying to him walking away. And every time, it tore me apart."

Lily's hand stopped and she pulled it out of Hermione's hair. She waited for Hermione to face her before saying,
"Why did that scare you so much?"

Hermione shrugged and looked back at the water. "I guess a part of me believes it could happen. That one day, he
might decide to leave."

Lily hummed and shifted her gaze forward, watching the sky like Harry had been earlier. Hermione sniffed and
wiped her tears with the hem of her shirt. Eventually Lily started talking, keeping her eyes on the clouds moving
across the sky.

"When I first figured out I loved James, and how much, I was so scared. I pulled away from him for a few months
and I think he was terrified I was going to dump him. He became especially obnoxious, which is his way of
coping with hard things, and I loved him anyway. A little more, actually.

"I loved him with my whole heart. No, more than that. With every cell in my body, every thought in my head, and
every ounce of magic in my veins. I loved him when he was on a high and, more significantly, when he was being
truly awful. And I convinced myself it was impossible for him to love me back, at least not with that magnitude."

She turned to Hermione, who was watching her with tears in her eyes. "But he did," Lily said with a small smile.
She reached out and wiped an errant tear from Hermione's cheek. "You love people like that—with your whole
being. You love Harry like that and maybe you're scared, like I was, but you shouldn't be. He loves you just as
much. More now, than when I last saw you together, which I didn't think was possible."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "What?" she breathed.

Lily let out a small laugh. "I know you love facts, so I'll list some for you: First, he trusts you implicitly. Whether
you're asking him to follow a strange man he's never met onto an invisible path in the sky or guiding him to a
Tear in the Veil. I think he'd follow you anywhere. Which is related to the second thing: he can't be away from
you for very long. He always chooses the spot next to you—have you noticed that? And if he's at the other side of
the room, he'll make his way over to you. I don't think he even knows he's doing it. And once he's with you, he
can't keep his hands off of you."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her knees.

"His eyes light up when you laugh," Lily continued, "especially at one of his jokes. And every time we've seen a
spectacular sight on this trip, he's looked at you, because I think he enjoys them more through your eyes. And
yesterday, when you fell out of the bubble, he jumped after you with no thought of protecting himself. If I hadn't
cast a Bubble-Head Charm on him, he would have inhaled that mist, right alongside you."

Hermione furrowed her brow. What? That wasn't like him at all. He was a trained Auror. He knew better.

"And as he watched you suffer through those visions," Lily said, her voice softer now, "he never left your side. I
could tell he was feeling your pain as if it were his own."

When Lily was finished talking, her words continued to echo in Hermione's brain. No. Lily was mistaken. She
was very clever and obviously intuitive, but she didn't have all the facts. She was seeing what she expected to see.
Harry and Hermione were close friends, the closest, and they were in a strange world, in strange countries, which
made them cling to each other more than normal. Lily had misinterpreted that as love.

Although Hermione's own feelings were a complicated mess she couldn't begin to unravel, one thing she knew for
certain was that Harry didn't love her; not like that. He'd never loved her like that and he never would. So, any
feelings she might have for him needed to stop. Maybe this was why she'd wanted to stay, so she could spend the
next several days figuring out how to leave these romantic feelings for Harry in this world. If she brought them
back with her, she'd lose everything.

Her mind drifted to the conversation she'd had with Miller, the Unspeakable. The one she'd told Harry about in
Cairo.

"How did you do it? Just a few months ago you were stuck and then this. I never would have thought to try a
Switching Spell. It's so...simple, elegant, and brilliant. This is going to revolutionize Transfiguration as we know
it."

"I know," Miller said smugly.

"Are you going to tell me how you figured it out?"

"It's extreme," he warned.

"I expect no less from you."

 He leaned in and said, as if it was some big secret, "I took my notes, five years of research and study, and burned
them."

"What?"

"And then, I Obliviated myself. To ensure I wouldn't just go down the same path when I started it all up again."

"No! That is exceedingly dangerous."

He nodded. "And it didn't work. So, a year later, I did it again. And then...Eureka."

"That's your advice? Burn it down? Start over?"

"It works. When you're well and truly stuck, that's the only way."

"But it's so...severe," she said with a wince. "I'm not sure I'll ever be that desperate to solve a problem."

"If you're not that desperate, you're not solving the right problem."

Hermione was desperate alright, but she'd only thought she'd lose her job. If she brought this...revelation back
home with her, she'd lose everything. Ron, first and foremost. Then Ginny and all the rest of the Weasleys. And
Harry… if things really blew up, he wouldn't choose her over everyone else. He'd never done that before, so she'd
be naïve to expect him to start now.

Lily's voice drew her attention back to the present. "That was supposed to make you feel better, but you look
worse than when I came out here."

Hermione lifted her head and gave Lily a teary smile before leaning against her side. Lily wrapped an arm around
her. "It's okay to be lost sometimes, Hermione. It happens to all of us. We're going to get you back. But for that to
happen, you need to lean on the people who love you. Open up, tell Harry what you saw, tell him why it scared
you, and give him a chance to defend himself before believing the worst of him."

Hermione rested her head on Lily's shoulder and closed her eyes. "Promise me," Lily said sternly.

"I promise," Hermione whispered, with no idea if she was going to keep her word.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Frustrating chapter, I know. Hermione is stressed and has A LOT to think about, but she'll get there.
And Lily...ugh! Why is she dead? She's the best.

Fun fact: I was planning to write this story ever since I saw the Tumblr prompt, but the whole time I called it
"Seven Days" in my head, planning for the trip to only last a week. As soon as I started outlining I was like,
"Oh, no. I need more time!" The seventh day of their trip is this one and as you can see, they can't return yet,
there's so much more story left to tell.
 Giant's Gulch, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Once Hermione's tears finally subsided, Lily kissed the side of her head, then left her alone near the pond, telling
her to take as much time as she needed before coming back to the tent. Hermione stayed for another thirty
minutes, until the sun was at an angle in the sky that made it shine directly in her face, keeping her from opening
her eyes. She figured that was as good a sign as any to head back.

She found James in the main room, reading a book, and took a seat on the couch next to him. He lowered his
book and when he turned to her, his eyes were swimming with concern.

"I wanted to apologize, James, for making you go through all that yesterday and then not even going to Fall's
End."

He clicked his tongue. "Nah. Don't apologize. I'm just glad you're okay. I was worried about you because, well, if
you died, who would I spar with?"

She gave him a small smile.

"Plus," he continued, "I don't mind the time to rest up for whatever insane Wonder you have for us next."

"The next one is nice and simple. No puzzles, no emotional upheaval, no retching the contents of your stomach
every hour. Just exotic creatures and kindly giants."

James raised an eyebrow. "Interesting mix."

"Yeah."

"When do you want to go? Are we camping there or do we have a reservation we need to meet?"

"Just camping." Hermione couldn't remember what time they were scheduled to leave. They were so far off the
plan by now. And it didn't matter, since James could alter the Portkeys.

"I'd like to take some time here before we leave," she said. "To just...relax."

James snorted.

"I can relax," she countered.

"Sure."

Hermione laid her head on the couch and moved her gaze to the bookshelf on her left. "Maybe I'll read for fun. I
haven't done that in ages. Go for a hike through the non-misty part of the forest, perhaps swim in one of the lakes.
It's gorgeous out there and that's without the fact that at any moment, you can look up and see a breathtaking
waterfall on the horizon."

James simply smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, which were scrutinizing her.

"Um, are you really okay to skip Fall's End?" she asked, looking down at her lap. "You can still go. I think you
should."

"Perhaps Enlightenment isn't all it's cracked up to be. Wasn't it you who taught us that muggle quote, 'ignorance is
bliss?'"
Hermione nodded.

"We'd brought you into an Order meeting, I think that was the first one you'd ever attended. We were wondering
when to tell Neville about the horcrux he was carrying inside and what it meant. We were torn, half of us wanting
to tell him and half of us wanting to wait so we brought you in, since you knew him better than anyone. You said
that quote and urged us to wait."

Hermione nodded again. She made a mental note to tell Harry about this new information later, then wondered if
she'd get a chance to. Would they still chat in the dark, just before falling asleep, or hang out in their room alone?
Or would they spend the rest of the trip awkwardly avoiding each other?

"It struck me after," James said, focusing on the chair on the opposite side of the room. "It was bliss for him, but
not you. You had to keep that from him for months. We shouldn't have burdened you with that knowledge. It was
my idea to call you in. I forgot sometimes you were just a kid. Harry's age."

"I'm older than Harry by almost a year," she pointed out.

He smiled. "So I've heard." He turned to her, pulling one of his legs up onto the couch. "Do you forgive me,
Hermione? Harry does, or so he says, but I've never asked you. I didn't make you like at Headquarters, but I did
pull you into the war. I'm the reason you have that injury and a host of other memories I'm betting you wish you
could forget. And I'm sorry for that, Hermione."

She felt hollow as she met James's eyes. He was so different from Lily, a lot less tactful and caring, but no less
impressive. He was clever and strong and had a giant heart, though he usually hid it behind jokes and arrogance.
Again, Hermione was painfully struck by the fact that he was dead in her world. The thought made her want to
curl into a ball and cry.

"There's nothing to forgive, James," she replied, blinking back tears. "We were fighting a war. Hard decisions had
to be made and in the end, we won. It's over and now—now, we move on."

He continued to watch her with a shrewd stare that she found slightly unnerving, but she still met his gaze, not
wanting to look away and have him think she was lying—which she was.

"Who was it?" he asked eventually. "Who said the quote?"

Hermione wasn't expecting the question. She wondered if he was checking her identity or simply curious. Either
way, she knew the answer.

"It was Thomas Gray. A muggle poet."

"Hmm. Smart man." He gave her a small nod, then picked up the book he'd laid on his lap earlier. "How does two
sound, for the next Portkey? Does that give you enough time to lounge around?" He said the last part like he
doubted she was capable of that sort of activity.

"Let's make it three," she countered.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression a mix of surprise and approval. "Okay. Three it is."

Hermione got the relaxing day she'd been craving. She read curled up in the chair across from James for almost
an hour, then went for a swim with Lily while Harry and James returned to the waterfall on their brooms. Harry
had been reluctant to go, not wanting to leave Hermione behind, but she'd insisted and promised to use the coin to
alert him at the first hint of danger.

When the guys returned from the falls, they ate lunch outside under the warm sun, then took their time packing up
the tent. Hermione packed quickly and was able to fit in a few more chapters of reading before their 3 o'clock
Portkey to America.
They arrived at an unassuming campsite with a few obviously magical tents spread around. Hermione explained
that although this was a Wizarding campsite, here were muggles hiking and camping nearby, so outside the
muggle-repelling wards that protected the area, they would need to be discreet.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around at the sparse forest. All Hermione had said about their destination
was that it was in America and three hours behind Venezuela, which he knew meant they were somewhere on the
Western side of the country.

"I'll show you," Hermione said with a sly smile. She led them to a hiking trail at the entrance to the campsite and
after half a mile of walking through the woods, the sky opened up. Harry was taken by how clear it was. There
wasn't a single cloud. He was about to say something to Hermione about never seeing the sky this devoid of
clouds in Britain, even on clear, sunny days, when she grabbed his arm. "Look, Harry."

Her touch hit him like an electric shock. But almost as suddenly as it had appeared, her hand was gone and Harry
was left standing alone on the trail, watching as his parents and Hermione approached a wooden railing at the end
of the path. Harry took a deep breath and followed after them. When he finally reached the railing and saw the
view up ahead, all thoughts of Hermione, how much he missed being able to reach out and touch her anytime he
wanted, and what that meant about his feelings for her and more importantly, his relationship with Ginny, were
erased.

"Merlin," James whispered.

"I know," Hermione replied. "I've seen pictures but in person, it's so... so... grand. Which makes sense, I guess."
She turned, leaned back against the wooden railing, and said proudly, "I present to you, the Grand Canyon.
Ironically, one of the Natural Wonders of the muggle world. Or, I guess I should say 'Nomag' since we're in
America."

"It's beautiful," Lily said. "How was it made? It looks Magical but then—how would the muggles explain that?"
She grabbed James's arm and placed a quick peck on the underside of his jaw. Harry shoved his hands in his
pockets and tried not to feel jealous.

"I know what you mean," Hermione said, turning back toward the colorful layers of rock cut into a variety of
jagged shapes that stretched for miles in every direction. "But it's not magical. This was created by a river and its
tributaries cutting into the rock over the course of several million years. And the layers—they're all different
types of rock that were created over two billion years ago, when this canyon was under the ocean and the rocks
that makeup the entire planet were still being formed."

"And you're saying that's not magical?" James asked.

Hermione shrugged. "There are incredible powers in this world that have nothing to do with magic, but that
doesn't make them any less magnificent." Harry wondered if she was thinking of her job in the Department of
Mysteries, studying those "unknowable forces" of the world. Her former job, he corrected, feeling a slight pang in
his chest.

Hermione sighed and turned back to them. "Today, I thought we'd explore the canyon from the top, visiting the
popular muggle spots. Then, tomorrow, I'll show you the magical parts," she ended with a grin.

"With the friendly giants and exotic animals?" James asked.

"Yes. It's called Giant's Gulch."

Harry frowned. He hadn't heard of the giants and exotic animals. Probably because he'd barely seen Hermione
today and hadn't been alone with her since their short talk at the pond this morning. He had a plan to fix this and
had been working on something earlier, when he'd been alone in their room, but he was worried he wouldn't be
able to execute his plan, since Hermione seemed determined to avoid him.

His attention was drawn back to Hermione when she announced they were moving on and started passing out
scraps of paper with coordinates. He knew better than to bother asking if she wanted to Side-Along with him and
studied the coordinates she'd handed him, waiting for her signal before turning on his toe.
An hour later, they were standing on a glass bridge that extended in a U-shape over the vast canyon. Hermione
was gripping the railing tightly and visibly shaking, but Harry could tell she was trying to hide it. He held a hand
out to her and muttered, "Take it. I don't think ten minutes of hand-holding is going to kill us."

She ignored his proffered hand and gripped the top of his arm, then leaned into him. "No," she said softly. "Ten
minutes should be fine."

Harry couldn't keep a smile from playing across his lips as he turned back to the majestic view, which seemed
more beautiful, for some reason.

Later that night, Harry was sitting next to the fire, eating his fourth s'more as he watched his parents chatting with
a friendly American couple they'd met while roasting marshmallows. The Americans, two men of Asian descent
around his parents' age, had come over and introduced them to the wonder of s'mores. His dad was overjoyed,
then said how annoyed he was that he'd gone his whole life without trying one.

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from saying how he'd gone his whole life without trying a roasted
marshmallow, since the only camping he'd done had been during the war and it certainly hadn't been a
'marshmallow roasting' type of experience. Hermione, who seemed to always know what Harry was thinking,
patted his leg comfortingly, then seemed to realize she'd promised not to do that anymore and quickly pulled her
hand back into her lap.

Beside those few minutes spent lamenting his marshmallow-free childhood, Harry was having a lot of fun. He
loved the chance to watch his parents in this new setting. He liked watching the way his parents' different
personalities complimented each other.

How his dad was the garrulous one who had a funny joke or story for every topic and would monopolize the
whole conversation, if allowed. How his mum was the polite one who would interrupt his dad and give the other
people a chance to talk. His mum was also more private and would give his dad a slightly admonishing look, or
place a hand on his arm, when she thought he was giving too much away.

He liked watching his dad try to get his mum to loosen up by coaxing her to share a story or two. And he liked
watching his dad's eyes brighten any time she laughed. They were a good pair and Harry thought that this was
what love was. Being comfortable with your partner. Filling in their small inadequacies and letting them do the
same for you. He wondered if this was a state he'd get to with Ginny.

They were pretty comfortable around each other, at least when they were alone, but there were still awkward
moments during times like this, when they were meeting new people or attending a dinner or other public event.
They'd talk over each other or say something to embarrass the other, nothing like this easy back and forth.

But they were still a relatively new couple. His parents had been together for over twenty years. Or maybe Harry
was the problem. He hadn't grown up seeing this sort of love modeled for him. How would his life have been
different if that had been the case?

He knew that answer. According to the facts of this world, he'd have ended up with Hermione. Harry sighed and
set down his half-eaten s'more. No matter where his thoughts started, they always ended with her. He focused
back on the conversation and a lump appeared in his throat when he realized they were talking about Hermione
too.

For the past few minutes, his dad had been doing that thing parents do when they talk about how wonderful their
kid is while the kid in question is sitting right there, blushing and waiting for the conversation to move past them.
Harry had seen the Weasleys do this several times, but no one had ever done it for him, unless you count that
summer before his Fifth Year when Sirius had told anyone who would listen how proud he was of Harry
for not being made a Prefect, but Harry wasn't sure it was the same.

He focused on a spot on the ground, a warmth creeping up his neck as he listened to his dad tell the Americans
what a brilliant flier he was, how he had a knack for teaching, especially younger kids, and how many N.E.W.T.s
he'd earned in school.
The conversation drifted when one of the Americans chimed in to explain their version of N.E.W.T.s, which was
very different, but now James was back to bragging, but this time about Hermione.

"His fiancée is a genius. She earned eight N.E.W.T.s in school and is a few months away from finishing her
Potions Mastery. If it weren't for having to lose a year of school for the war, she'd be one of the youngest ever."

"When are you going to be married?" the man with a trim beard asked Harry.

"Oh. We haven't set a date. Soon," Harry replied.

He was glad Hermione was gone for this part of the conversation, since it would have made her uncomfortable. In
their other lives, they did have wedding dates, for marriages to other people. Though Harry's June wedding
seemed farther and farther away the more time he spent in this world.

Hermione had excused herself earlier, saying she was tired and was going to read in her room. Harry had decided
to wait an hour before following her, hoping that would give her enough time to read so she wouldn't be annoyed
when he interrupted her.

He had to drag himself away from the fire after he told the group he was going to turn in. He could watch his
parents like this forever, relaxed and telling little stories about their life, but he needed to talk to Hermione.
Making up with her was more important right now.

She was lost in her book when he arrived at their room. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a few
seconds. She looked calmer than she had in a long time, close to that photo of the other Hermione brewing
Potions. Harry had made the mistake of going through those photos earlier today, hoping to find clarity about
these newfound feelings for Hermione. It was a bad idea, as they'd just confused him further.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Oh, hey," she said when she saw him, lowering her book into her lap.

"Sorry to interrupt. Er—you can keep reading to—er—get to a stopping point. I just—uh—wanted to talk to you.
If that's okay." Harry wished he could Obliviate her and try that again. Maybe this time without stumbling on
every other word. He took a deep breath and watched her mark her place in the book and put it on the table.

"We can talk now." She shifted onto her knees and stretched her arms over her head. Her shirt lifted up slightly,
revealing the curve of her waist, and Harry had to force himself to look away. "What do you want to talk about?"
she asked when she was finished stretching and her shirt had returned to its proper place. There was a slight edge
in her tone and Harry guessed she was worried he was going to press her about their kiss again.

Harry went to his trunk and pulled out a notebook. He turned to the right page before handing it to her, holding
his breath as she flipped through the first few pages. When he saw her eyes widen, then turn warm, he exhaled
and let himself relax.

"Are these potential jobs for me?" she asked, smiling up at him.

Harry nodded. He laid on his stomach next to her and took his pillow to prop his chest up. "These were all the
jobs I could think of," he explained. "And if you flip to the end..." He reached over to flip the pages for her, "...I
started listing out different selection criteria. I thought you could go through the list, circle the ones that sound
interesting, then assign each job a different score for each category. We can even assign different weights to the
categories, if you want. Those are just some ideas. I thought you'd want to come up with the final ones on your
own."

Hermione smiled as she read the scoring categories he'd already come up with. Community impact, level of
mental stimulation, flexibility… "Why is 'how difficult to qualify for' crossed off?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I thought in the end, it didn't matter. Since you can do anything you set your mind to."

Hermione smiled and looked back at the page. "This is brilliant, Harry. And so thorough. When did you do this?"
"Earlier today. While you were reading."

"I love it."

"Yeah?"

She smiled again before flipping back to the first page.

"We can go through them together. If you—uh—want," Harry said tentatively.

"Of course," she said, shifting so she was on her stomach like Harry. "I want to see what you came up with."

She ran her finger down the page of jobs he'd written out, still impressed by how comprehensive the list was. It
started with the standard jobs, everything at Hogwarts, all the jobs at the Ministry—minus Unspeakable, of
course, though he had included Minister for Magic. She stopped when she reached Cartographer.

"I'm not sure this is still a job. I believe everything on this Earth was discovered a few hundred years ago and the
maps are finished being made."

"Really? Weren't you the one telling me that the melting ice caps were threatening to reshape all the coastlines?"

Hermione let out a small laugh. "Okay, fine. But this one—" she pointed at Composer, "was this serious?"

"I don't know what sort of musical scores you have floating around in that giant brain of yours."

"None," she said with a laugh.

When she saw the first job on the next page, she snorted. "Coroner!?"

"What? You'd be good at that."

"You think I could be one of those muggles who cuts up bodies to try to determine the cause of death?"

"Wait, what?" Harry peered at the list. "No. Those are the people who choose what to put in museums."

"Curator," she corrected.

"Oh, shit. That's right. You know even as I was writing it, I knew it was wrong."

Hermione had turned onto her side and was laughing so hard, there were tears in her eyes. "Who mixes up
coroners and curators?"

"The words are sort of similar, and I was only in the muggle world for ten years—I forgot what coroners did.
How brutal, by the way. Too bad they can't use spells, like we can."

Hermione shifted back to her stomach, still smiling widely as she returned to the list. She grabbed a pen from the
bedside table and started circling a few jobs as she read.

She snorted again when she reached the bottom of the page. "What's a 'pasty chef?' Just...a really pale chef?
Because I have a sort of olive skin tone. Is that going to work?"

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "That's an 'r' right there," he said, pointing to a very small, almost
indistinguishable squiggle between the t and the y. "You're just being difficult now."

She smiled and turned the page.

"I was stressed while I wrote this," he explained, "as you can probably tell by the messier than normal writing."

"Why were you stressed?" she asked, looking up from the page.
He thought that was obvious, but answered the question anyway. "You seemed so down this morning. I was
worried about you. But you—you seem better—yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding as she turned back to the list. After scanning the next few jobs (Hairdresser, Makeup
artist, Fashion designer, Barmaid, Mum), she smiled and said, "I see we've reached the, 'Oh, right, Hermione's a
witch' section."

"I know you're a witch," he said defensively. "I actually figured it out in Fourth Year." That made her laugh. And I
wish I could forget you were a witch for a bit as that would certainly help with the inappropriate thoughts that
have been running through my head all day.

Harry cleared his throat as he cast around for something else to talk about, besides the fact that he was a wizard
and she was a witch, since they seemed to have that topic well-covered. "That one's a real job, by the way" he
said, pointing at the Mum entry.

"Oh, I know. It's just not for me. I mean, I want to be a mum...one day...but I want to work too."

"I figured but I still left it on there, not wanting to assume since it's...you know... up to you."

"Thanks," she said, leaning into him. She wished all wizards were so supportive and understanding about the
topic.

Her eyes landed on a job near the end of the page and she let out another laugh. "Quidditch player? That has to be
a joke."

"I didn't want to leave anything out, in case you wanted to make a serious life change. And I can help you, if you
want. I learned recently that in another life, I was a pretty decent flying teacher."

Hermione laughed. "I'm good." She focused back on the list and circled Lobbyist and Something with books. "A
little vague, don't you think?"

Harry leaned over to see what she was referring to. "Oh, yeah, sorry. My hand was cramping at the end there. I'm
sure you know the jobs in that category better than me, anyway."

Hermione smiled as she returned to the list. She loved that he hadn't considered Something with books until the
end. Most people would have put that first, but not Harry. He'd never seen her as a stereotype. When she reached
the end of the list, she went back and counted the number of jobs she'd marked, circling a few more during her
review. "Okay, I have thirty circled. Now we can pick the categories and assign scores."

She half expected to see his eyes glaze over, but he looked excited. "Let's do it. I'm eager to see what we come up
with. Hermione Granger's new job. It's a big deal."

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, blushing slightly. "Um, maybe we should mark the occasion. I have something."

"What?" he said, watching as she got up and went to her trunk.

"Something left over from France," she said vaguely.

"Wine?"

"Hah! No. I do have wine, but I think I should stay sober while making this big life decision."

"Good call." He also thought it was best they remained sober when they were alone together. At least for the rest
of the trip. Or forever. That was probably wise.

After Hermione had been digging in her trunk for a few minutes Harry asked, "What are you looking for?"

"Chocolate. Remember those amazing truffles we got in France? I have a few more in here somewhere."

"You didn't have enough chocolate earlier with all those s'mores?"
She stopped and looked back at him, "Enough chocolate? I'm unfamiliar with this concept."

He just smiled and shifted his gaze to the list of jobs he'd made for her. A few moments later, Hermione said,
"Hey, what's wrong?" She was standing at the edge of the bed and had been watching him, her eyes tinged with
worry. Harry shook his head. She really did know him better than he knew himself. She seemed to have figured
out something was off with him, just as the thought was forming in his mind.

He gave her a dismissive wave. "Tonight is about you and your life crisis. We can discuss mine later."

She took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Or we can discuss both of them. Come on. Tell me."

Harry moved so he was lying on his back. He took his glasses off and draped his arm over his face. "I'm thinking
about quitting my job too."

He heard her breath hitch. Then, the bed shifted as she moved closer to him. "Tell me more."

He told her about his conversation with his dad after their trip to Cairo. About what Sirius had told his dad at the
Tear in the Veil. He told Hermione he'd been thinking about what his Sirius would say if Harry got a chance to
talk to him and that he thought he'd say the same thing he'd said to his dad. That Harry could let the war go. That
he didn't have to fight Dark Wizards to avenge Sirius's, his parents', or anyone else's deaths. That he should try to
enjoy life as best he could.

"Wow," Hermione whispered when he finished talking. He lifted his arm and peeked over at her. She was lying on
her back next to him, looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think a lot of things," she said slowly.

"About this," he clarified.

She turned and gave him a small smile. "I was talking about this. I have a lot of thoughts about what you said."

"Care to share?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. That's why I said, 'What do you think?'"

"You're prickly," she murmured, looking back up at the canvas ceiling.

"This is a big deal!" he said defensively.

"I know." She placed a hand on his arm. "I was kidding." They both looked down at her hand and after a few
awkward seconds, she took it back and pulled herself up on the bed. He moved to a sitting position too as he
waited for her to speak.

"I have three primary thoughts," she began. "First, I agree with your assessment of what Sirius would say and I
agree with the argument whole-heartedly. I never approved of your choice of job; you know that. Second, I'm a
little annoyed you had to hear this from your dad for it to really sink in, but I'm glad it did. And finally…" She
paused to give him a wicked smile. "I told you so. That's always fun to say."

He shoved her.

"Oh! I have one more!" she exclaimed.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"It's going to be hard—if you go through with it—but I'll support you, just like always."
Harry smiled back at her. He'd been nervous about voicing the idea, but he should have known she'd be
supportive. She gave him a pretty smile and a curl fell into her face. He wanted so badly to brush it back and had
to clench his fists to keep from reaching out. She got there first and dropped her eyes, blushing slightly. He was
staring, and it was making her uncomfortable. But still, he couldn't pull his eyes away from her.

"Oh! I remember where I put the truffles!" She jumped out of the bed. Harry rolled back onto his stomach and
dropped his head into his pillow, taking the chance while Hermione was distracted to take several deep
breaths. Get a hold of yourself, Harry.

"With Ron always around at my flat, I got in the habit of hiding all my sweets," she was saying as she dug
through her trunk. "But I always forget where I put them." She took out a balled up pair of socks, reached into
them and pulled out a large rubber ball, then grabbed her wand and Transfigured the ball into a bag of truffles.

"Wow. That was a good hiding spot," Harry forced out, still reeling from his brief freak-out over how pretty she
was, followed by her abrupt mention of Ron.

Hermione grabbed a few truffles out of the bag, then tossed the bag to him.

"Ron used to steal my sweets too," Harry said, "but he learned his lesson with the Romilda Vane incident."

"That's right," she said before popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. When she was finished chewing, she
asked, "Did you set up that whole thing to keep him from nicking your sweets in the future?"

"Of course not. I'm not that cunning."

"I don't know. The Sorting Hat thought you'd be pretty great in Slytherin."

Harry threw a piece of chocolate at her and she tried to catch it, but failed miserably, losing her balance and
nearly falling over. Harry couldn't help but laugh. "You know what? I think I need to go back through this list and
remove every job that requires a modicum of hand/eye coordination."

She scowled at him, but his point was proven when she tripped on the ball of socks she'd dropped earlier on her
way to the bed. "Not a word," she said sternly.

He just laughed harder and soon enough, she joined him. As they laid on the bed, laughing together, it almost felt
like the kiss from the night before had never happened. But it had happened and even though they were doing a
good job of pretending otherwise, it was at the top of both of their minds.

Hermione sat up quickly in bed, breathing heavily as she tried to think calming thoughts and remind herself she
was safe. It wasn't real. It was just a nightmare. She opened her eyes but she may as well have kept them closed.
The room was pitch black.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her back.

"Sorry, it's just me," Harry whispered.

She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her and hummed back at him.

"Was it a memory or a nightmare?" he asked, moving his hand up to her shoulder.

"Um… both, sort of. It was one of the scenes from the mist."

"Oh. Which one? You never told me any details of what it made you see."

Hermione bit her lip as she considered whether or not to tell him the truth. She thought of what Lily had said,
about confiding in him, and it was so much easier to say things like this in the dark, when you couldn't see the
other person. So she told him about the scene at the Department of Mysteries, how he'd left her, and how broken
she'd felt.
Harry pulled his hand away from her shoulder. "What else did it make you see?"

"I watched you die," she said. "At every point in our past when you had a close call, instead of escaping with your
life, you died. Starting from that first time you met Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, to the Chamber of Secrets,
the Triwizard Tournament, the fight at the Ministry, to countless times during the war."

"That was your heart's deepest fear?"

"Yes," she sighed.

He was quiet for a long time, then asked, "Did you see anyone else die?"

"No," she said as a tear fell down her cheek.

He grew silent again. All she could hear was his breathing and after another minute, she could feel it, on her
cheek. He had shifted so his face was just inches away from hers. She turned her face until she could feel his
warm breath on her lips. He reached for her and buried one hand in her hair, behind her neck, and gripped her
waist with the other.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

"No," she breathed.

"Are you sure?"

She leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them. As soon as their lips touched, something
instinctive ignited in them. Harry kissed her fiercely as she moved her hands to his shoulders and reached under
his shirt, pulling him closer to her.

When he leaned back for air, she bit his lower lip, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat.

He kissed her chin, then started kissing a path along the line of her jaw until he reached the spot just below her
ear. He moved her hair back and began peppering kisses on her neck. Every one of his touches sent a shudder
down her spine.

She let out a moan when he reached a sensitive spot. He stopped and she could feel him grin against her skin,
then he bit the spot he'd found softly before sucking her neck, hard. She let out another moan, louder this time,
which was met with a very husky, very sexy, "Hermione."

She'd never heard him say her name like that and desperately wanted to hear it again. She reached down and as
soon as her hand touched his cock, which was hard under the thin fabric of his pajamas, she woke up.

"Shit," Hermione whispered as her eyes adjusted to the low light in the room. She turned her head toward the
window and saw through the crack in the curtains that the sky was dark blue. She guessed the sunrise wasn't far
off. She turned her head the other way and saw Harry was sleeping on his side, facing her. Her heart skipped a
beat.

He's asleep. He doesn't know which direction he's facing. Don't overthink it.

She slunk out of bed and sat on the floor, groaning as she laid her head back against the mattress. "Shit," she said
again.

The room got a little lighter as she sat there. When she could see well enough to make out the room, she looked
around and saw Harry's trunk lying open a few feet away. She saw the box of photos and Summoned it with her
wand, then placed it on her lap as she carefully opened the lid. She cast a dim, floating light, turned to make sure
Harry was still asleep, then focused back on the box.

The first thing she noticed was that the photos were in a different order than when she'd last checked them. That
meant Harry had looked through these since China. Curious to see what he'd been looking at, she reached for a
few photos on the top. Hermione leaned forward to see the first photo and almost dropped the pile in her hand.
 She was with Harry, Ron, and Hannah Abbott, at what looked like the inside of Florean Fortescue's. The
Hermione in the photo was wagging her finger at Harry, wearing a stern expression, then he pushed the hand
holding her ice cream cone up, causing her to smear ice cream across her mouth.

Hermione opened her mouth in shock as the rest of the group burst into laughter. Harry leaned forward and ate the
largest blob of ice cream off the side of her mouth. Then he proceeded to clean off the rest of the ice cream with
open mouth kisses as she laughed and tried to push him away.

Ron bent to whisper something to Hannah just as the camera pulled away and Neville appeared in the frame. He'd
been the one taking the picture and was taking a moment to look into the camera and roll his eyes with mock
exasperation. Hermione could just make out the hint of a lightning bolt scar under his hair, before the camera
focused back on the other Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Hannah.

She watched the scene for longer than was probably prudent. Heat coursed through her, settling between her legs,
as she watched the other Harry kiss the other Hermione. She thought of her dream, when he'd been kissing her
even more thoroughly than this. What had Harry thought when he'd looked at this photo? Had his body reacted
embarrassingly, like hers was, or had he just viewed it with detached curiosity?

She should put the photos away. That was the right thing to do. This would just make her confusing mess of
feelings worse. Hermione sighed and lowered the hand holding the photos.

"I set it all on fire, Miller, and now I'm burning," she whispered into the quiet room. "What now?"

She thought of the Unspeakable and imagined how he would respond if he were here. She could almost hear his
low, silky voice saying, "Add another log to the fire," as she picked up another photo.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I live close to the Grand Canyon, so of course I had to throw it into the story. Also, sorry about the
tease at the end. I really wanted to write a passionate HHR kiss, but it didn't fit in the plot, so I created the
steamy dream instead. It gave us insight into Hermione's thoughts, so it wasn't a complete waste.

Your kind reviews mean everything to me. You all have no idea how much time I spend going back through
and rereading them, especially when I'm stuck with writing or just having an off day. So thanks for the
continued support!
 Giant's Gulch, Part 2

Day Nine

Later that morning, after Hermione had taken a long, cold shower, she Apparated the group to a spot at the
bottom of the canyon. They hiked for a short way through a narrow gorge with layered rock rising up as far as
they could see. At the thinnest sections, James put his feet on the walls and jumped from one leg to the other to
get through, making Lily roll her eyes.

"Come on, that was cool," James said after the third time he did it. "You have to admit."

"You're a show-off, Potter, that's all I'm admitting to," Lily replied. "Also, we didn't miss you almost falling on
your face at the end there."

"Your dad's a child," Hermione murmured to Harry.

"I know," he replied with a proud smile.

When they reached a small opening in the gorge, Hermione told everyone to stop as she checked the map she was
holding. She waved her wand to check their coordinates, compared it to the map, then nodded and turned to her
right. "There."

"What's there?" Harry asked.

"Giant's Gulch."

She was pointing to a narrow passage that was no more remarkable looking than the other thin spots in the
canyon they'd passed through this morning. It was barely wide enough for a large man to fit through, if he turned
sideways. Harry was confused. He assumed the place they were heading was a place giants would be able to get
to.

"Are you going to tell us now what 'Giant's Gulch' is?" James asked.

"It's an animal sanctuary protected by giants," Hermione explained.

"Why giants? Aren't they vicious?" Lily asked.

"Not all giants are vicious," Harry replied, a little sharply.

"I know that," Lily said defensively. "Hagrid and his half-brother are perfect examples. But as a whole, they're not
the type to protect an animal sanctuary, are they?"

Harry just shrugged.

"Anyway," Hermione said, pulling the group's attention back to her, "This sanctuary was originally set up over
fifty years ago. Newt Scamander, a famous British magizoologist, worked with MACUSA to find this location,
ward it against Muggles, and fill it with a number of endangered species. However, after just ten years, the
animals were dying out."

"Scamander," Harry said. "Why does that name sound familiar? Oh! That's—"

"The man who wrote most of the textbooks on magical animals? Yes," she finished for him. She knew he was
about to mention Luna's boyfriend, Newt Scamander's grandson, but they didn't know if she was dating him in
this world or even if she was a friend of theirs.

Harry shot her an appreciative smile as Lily asked, "Why did the animals die out?"
"They were being hunted for the illegal potions and animal trades. It was very convenient for criminals to have
the most exotic creatures in the world living in one spot. MACUSA was about to shut the whole thing down when
a local tribe of giants got involved. Everyone was wary because, as Lily pointed out, they're not known for their
gentle demeanors, but MACUSA had no other options, so gave the protection of the sanctuary over to the giants.

"They ended up doing a splendid job and the population of animals has increased tenfold. The giants take their
job as protectors very seriously. Everything I read said that as long as we listen to the giants, we'll be safe."

"Listen to the giants," Lily repeated, sounding bitter.

James wrapped an arm around her and said in an uncharacteristically soothing voice, "They're not going to be like
the ones at the Final Battle. And if they are, we'll go straight back to the campsite."

Harry felt bad for snapping at her. She had obviously had some bad experiences with giants in the war and he
hoped this wasn't a fact he was supposed to have known. "Yeah. We'll go straight back," he said, following it up
with what he hoped was a comforting smile.

"Okay," Lily said, patting Harry on the arm.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "We don't have to go."

"We're going," Lily said, marching toward the gulch.

"No," James called, running to get ahead of her. "I'll go first."

"Oh, okay. How chivalrous." She stepped to the side to let him pass.

James grinned over his shoulder before turning back to the gulch. "So I just—uh—step through?"

"Yeah. Just step through," Hermione called from the back of the line.

James disappeared into the gulch, followed closely by Lily. When it was his turn, Harry hesitated and turned
around, about to ask Hermione to hold his hand, since he felt nervous leaving her behind, especially with the
earlier talk of criminals. But he changed his mind, smiled awkwardly at her instead, and walked through.

They reappeared in a large circular area surrounded by red stone where the only two exits were the gulch they'd
just walked through and a large archway at the end, which was guarded by a giant.

This giant didn't look anything like the giants that had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. He was smiling, for one,
but even more notable were the creatures surrounding him. There were a few squirrel-like creatures playing in his
long, thick hair. There were two bowtruckles peeking out of his beard, and several colorful birds with over-large
beaks on his arms and shoulders.

"Okay, now that is a friendly giant," Lily said once Hermione had appeared.

"No kidding," Hermione said. "He's like a giant version of a Disney princess. I half-expect him to burst into
song."

"What?" James asked.

Hermione gave him a dismissive wave. "It was a Muggle reference. Okay, are you guys ready?"

They nodded and all walked together to approach the giant.

"Hello," he said in a booming voice.

"Uh, hello," said Hermione. "We're here to visit the animal sanctuary."

The giant nodded and held out his hand, which was large enough for Hermione to step onto, if she wanted, which
she didn't. "Wands," the giant said simply.
"What?"

"Wands," the giant repeated, pointing to the wand in Hermione's hand. He gestured toward the archway. "No
wand in there."

"You're going to take our wands?" Harry asked. "But then—what if something happens to us in there?"

The giant shrugged and said, "No wand, no animals." He began playing with one of the bowtruckles in his beard.
It was clear he didn't care either way if they gave him their wands. He was just enforcing a rule to protect the
animals.

Everyone looked at Hermione. "I didn't read about that," she said. "I definitely would have mentioned it."

"We're obviously not going in there without our wands," James said.

"Hang on. Let me think." Hermione leaned against the wall and stroked her chin as she thought. "I can spell-bind
our wands and tie the spell to each of our magical signatures, ensuring that only we can unlock the charm."

"Fine. That'll keep people from stealing our wands, but that would still leave us without magic in there," Harry
said.

"Not without magic, without wands," she corrected. "If we're in a life-or-death situation, our magic will kick in to
save us. No one else has wands in there, so we're not at risk of getting attacked by humans—"

"—just giants and wild animals," Lily finished for her. "I don't like it."

Hermione nodded understandingly and turned back toward the giant. "Excuse me, sir. Are there dangerous
animals in there? How will we defend ourselves against them without our wands?"

He nodded, like this was a question he got a lot. "Listen to giants. Giants keep everyone safe."

Hermione turned back to the group and shrugged. "And we're back to listening to the giants."

"Great," Lily grumbled.

"They're not exactly easy to understand, are they?" Harry said in a low voice. "It may not be as simple as he's
making it sound."

James chortled while Hermione suggested, "Let's vote."

"Fine. I vote no," Lily said immediately. "James?"

"Is this one of those things where if I don't agree with you, I'm going to be paying for it for the rest of the trip?"
James asked.

Lily rolled her eyes. "James votes yes, he's just too scared to say so."

"I vote yes," Hermione said quickly, before James could change his vote. Everyone turned to Harry.

Harry hesitated, then looked at Hermione. "You really think this is safe?"

Hermione shrugged. "I trust our instincts. If anything feels wrong to any of us once we walk through there, I
propose we turn right back around. But—uh—I at least want to see what it's all about. I don't think MACUSA
would support it if it were dangerous."

Harry sighed and handed her his wand. "Okay. Let's try it."

As she looked at his wand in her hand, Hermione recalled Lily's words from the day before. "He trusts you
implicitly. I think he'd follow you anywhere."
James and Lily handed Hermione their wands next and she applied the locking spell she'd mentioned. They all
practiced removing the spell, confirming that only the owner of the wand could undo it, and James complimented
Hermione's vast knowledge of obscure spells again. She looked uncomfortable and Harry made a mental note to
ask her later if the spell she'd used to lock their wands was experimental.

They handed their wands to the giant, who stowed them in an inside pocket of his vest, then gestured for them to
proceed through the archway.

They appeared on a ledge overlooking a lush valley below. Hermione's head whipped around as she struggled to
decide where to look first. The landscape alone was breathtaking. The red, layered rock surrounding the area
provided a beautiful contrast to the brilliant green of the brush in the valley and the deep turquoise hue of the
stream winding through the center.

There were animals everywhere and the longer Hermione looked, the more she noticed: A herd of flying horses
grazing under a copse of trees, two flying creatures that looked like a mix between snakes and dragons—
occamies, she thought—slithering through the air, and an erumpent drinking from the stream.

"Hermione, look at this!" Harry called from further up the ledge. She went to his side and followed his finger. He
was pointing to a family of unicorns—two grown silver ones and three golden foals—walking through a small
field of wildflowers. Hermione smiled and when she looked back at Harry, he was watching her, instead of the
unicorns.

Lily's voice echoed in her mind again. "Every time we've seen a spectacular sight on this trip, he's looked at you,
because I think he enjoys them more through your eyes."

Hermione blushed and looked to her right to find Lily watching the two of them. Lily winked at her before
turning back toward the valley. Hermione was sure Lily was thinking of their conversation.

Harry always claimed the Sorting Hat had tried to put him in Slytherin because of the piece of Voldemort's soul in
him, but maybe it was just in his genes. Lily was very cunning, and she had been friends with Snape.

"Hermione! You have to see this!" Harry was crouched down, much too close to the edge for Hermione's liking
and all of a sudden, he jumped back, catching himself with his hands as he laughed heartily. Hermione smiled at
the look of pure joy on his face.

He's not the only one who enjoys the sights more through the other's eyes, is he?

"Shut up!" she shouted in her mind as she took a deep breath and went to see what he'd found.

Several hours later, Hermione was lying on the ground at the edge of a deep pond with a waterfall flowing into it.
She was enjoying the cooling feeling of the spray from the waterfall on her sun-drenched skin.

"Here, try this one," Lily said, holding a purple flower out to Hermione. Hermione carefully pulled the flower out
of the stem, revealing a small drop of nectar, and placed it on her tongue. "Hmm," she said as she mulled over the
flavor. "Pear?"

"I was thinking, dragonfruit."

"Oh, yes! That's what it is."

When they'd first arrived at this pond an hour ago, a family from Canada had pointed out these colorful flowers to
them, explaining how the nectar tasted like a different fruit depending on the color of the flower.

They'd smiled politely and declined, not wanting to put any strange substances in their mouths without being able
to cast a Poison-Detecting Charm first. But once the family was gone, Hermione had an idea to pool their magic
together to create enough power to cast a weak spell on the plant.
No one knew how to do that, but she just told everyone to stand still and hold hands and after a few moments of
strange chanting, had managed a weak version of the Poison-Detecting Charm—strong enough to confirm the
plant wasn't deadly, but not enough to determine if it would make them sick.

Hermione had decided to take a risk and try it and was glad she had, since she was officially obsessed with these
flowers. They were like honeysuckle mixed with the good flavors of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans,
combining two fond memories from her childhood. One: when she'd played in the forest as a child, eating
honeysuckle as she laid in the grass and watched the clouds, and the other: eating sweets from the cart with Harry
and Ron on the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione turned her head at the sound of splashing and saw James and Harry walking out of the water. "You
have to try that, Lil!" James exclaimed, sitting next to Lily as he wiped his glasses on the edge of his shirt.

"I don't have to do anything I don't want to do and jumping off of a cliff without my wand is something I don't
want to do," she retorted, motioning toward the waterfall Harry and James had just jumped down.

"Harry and I did it and we're fine."

"Good for you two."

"Come on," James said, nudging her side with his leg. "At least go up there with me. The view alone is worth it,
then you can walk back down."

"No, thank you," she said, turning to pick a yellow flower from the bush behind her.

"Please?"

Lily opened the flower, dropped the nectar on her tongue, then turned to Hermione and said, "Watermelon."

"Please?" James repeated.

Lily let out a large sigh. "If I go up there and see this 'incredible view,' will you stop pestering me?"

"Yes," he said, jumping to his feet, then reaching out a hand to help her up.

Lily brushed his hand away as she rose on her own. "Let's get this out of the way," she grumbled, marching
toward the path that led to the top of the waterfall.

"Five galleons says she doesn't end up walking back down," Hermione said once they were out of earshot.

"I'm not taking that bet," Harry replied as he laid on the ground next to her. "I'm with you."

Sure enough, when his parents reached the top, they heard shouting echoing around the clearing. Harry could see
his mum poking her finger into his dad's chest as they fought. Then, seemingly without warning, James pulled
Lily against his chest and jumped off the waterfall with her. When they hit the water, a flurry of flying seahorses
exploded into the air, chittering wildly as they flew around before returning to the water.

"James!" Lily cried as soon as she resurfaced.

"Wasn't that fun?" he asked, appearing from the depths of the pool a few feet away from her, his glasses askew.
"Don't you want to do it again?"

"Do what? Tell my husband I really don't want to do something, have him agree to a compromise, then have him
ultimately disrespect me by forcing me to do the original thing I didn't want to do anyway? All because he's the
wizard and he's in charge and—"

James splashed her. She splashed him back and soon they were swimming around the pool and splashing each
other, occasionally joined by a flying seahorse or two.
Harry and Hermione laughed as they watched his parents behaving like children. "I could see you making a
speech like that," he said to Hermione.

"If you did that to me, I'd spare you the speech, pretend like I was okay with it, then once I had my wand back, I'd
hex you to oblivion when you were least expecting it."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Does that punishment really befit the crime?"

Hermione shrugged and cocked her head toward his parents, who were kissing now. "Your mum doesn't think so.
But again, I'm pretty sure she knew exactly what was going to happen when she walked up there with him."

Harry watched his mum pull away from his dad and push him under the water, then wondered if the kiss had just
been a distraction so she could do that. James grabbed hold of her leg as she was swimming away and pulled her
under. By the time they reached the edge and had pulled themselves out of the water, they were both laughing.

"You want to jump again, don't you?" James asked, slightly out of breath.

"No," she said simply. Then, when James had taken a seat next to Harry, she turned to the waterfall and cried,
"Race you up there!"

James let out a laugh and bolted up the path after her.

"They're cute," Hermione said once James and Lily were out of sight. She could still hear their laughter as they
fought their way up the path.

Harry just hummed as he laid onto his back and closed his eyes. He adored these moments and would never be
able to thank Hermione enough for giving him this gift. But the days were ticking by and soon, he'd have to say
goodbye. He'd never hear his parents' laughter again. Never see his mum shoot his dad an exasperated look—at
odds with the admiration sparkling in her eyes, or catch his dad playfully smacking her bum when he thought no
one was looking.

"Hey," Hermione said.

Harry turned his head toward her and when he opened his eyes, he saw she'd shifted onto her stomach and was
propping herself up on her elbows. His eyes darted to her cleavage for a second before he dragged them up to her
face. So much for the pact he'd made earlier to not look at her body, which he'd already broken four times.

He'd had a mini panic attack when she'd emerged from the trees in the same black swimsuit the other Hermione
had been wearing in the photo at the beach house during that intimate scene where the other Harry had been
kissing her neck. Harry had noticed that even though the swimsuit was modest, it revealed every line of her body:
her slim waist, her curvy hips, the shape of her breasts under that thin, black fabric, and her long, elegant neck,
which the other Harry had got to kiss.

What are you doing? That's a lot of thoughts about something you're not supposed to be thinking about!
Remember the pact. Think of Ginny!

Ginny was beautiful, too. Thin, tall, long legs, but not very curvy. He thought again of the curve in Hermione's
waist and how he wanted to see what it felt like to place his hand there. And again, his thoughts were back on
Hermione. He kept trying to think of Ginny, but he could never keep her in his mind for very long.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his inappropriate trance and focused back on Hermione. "Er—yeah?"

"You're a lot like them, you know?" she said, cocking her head toward the waterfall. "I've been noticing it more as
I get to know each of them better. You're fearless and daring like your dad, but with a good blend of caution, from
your mum. You're funny and sarcastic, which is definitely from James, but also reserved, like Lily."
Harry gave her a sad smile, then looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. A tear fell down his cheek, but luckily
it was on the side facing away from Hermione. He heard scratching a moment later and turned to find Hermione
writing in a notebook.

"What are you writing?"

"What I just said."

"About my parents?"

Hermione nodded. "I've been thinking, we've seen so many incredible sights but we can't bring pictures back and
it's not reasonable to visit a pensieve all the time, so I thought it would be good to write down all the little details
from the trip. I should have started sooner, but I've been catching up."

She flipped backward and Harry saw she'd already filled out four pages. Then he noticed it was the same
notebook he'd written the list of jobs in. "And you're including details about my parents, too?"

"Why not? It's all worth remembering. Even this childish cliff-jumping argument of theirs. And then—well, my
plan was to clean it up and give it to you for a Christmas gift."

"Oh," Harry said, swallowing back a lump in his throat. "You're actually supposed to keep those a surprise. That's
why people wrap them in paper."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the tip. I guess I'll bin this gift idea and just get you something else."

"No! I want this gift. It's incredible. I'll—er—pretend to act surprised. Promise."

She gave him a shy smile, then he saw her eyes scan his body. His heart thumped. Did she just check him out?
Had he imagined that? No, he hadn't, she seemed embarrassed and was determinedly looking down at the ground.
He bit back a smile as he reached out and gave her a gentle kick. "Hey."

He watched her eyelashes float up and smiled when her eyes met his. "I'm glad I'm here with you. I wouldn't have
picked anyone else to do this with."

She let out a nervous laugh. "No one else would have been able to get you here."

"You know what I mean."

Harry stared at her for too long. In the middle of this idyllic cove, with the red rocks, the waterfall, and the deep,
turquoise pool with exotic fish jumping out every so often to say hello. With colorful flowers surrounding the
area and a clear blue sky ahead, it was without question one of the most beautiful places he'd ever seen. And still,
he could not keep his eyes off this witch.

She dropped his gaze. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah." Harry lifted his hand and touched the top of her cheek. "Sunburn. Right here."

"Oh." She gave him a pretty smile, then reached out and feathered her fingers along his shoulder. "You too. That's
the problem with not having our wands. Most of our stuff is shrunken, so I couldn't get a Sun-Repellent Potion.
But I have a salve that will fix this up when we're back at the campsite."

"I wasn't worried about it. You have a solution for everything."

She smiled again, then dropped her hand and shifted away from him, pulling herself to a sitting position. "I, uh,
have been watching this lizard," she began, motioning toward the bush with the colorful flowers. "He eats the
flowers, then changes colors to match the most recent flower he ate."

"Oh. Cool." Harry sat up and looked into the bush, but couldn't see any lizards.

"I've been trying to coax him out, but he keeps hiding back there, in the shadows."
"Well, you're the lizard whisperer. If anyone can earn his trust, it's you," he quipped, nudging her side.

"I don't know about that," she said darkly. "The fire lizards turned on me two days ago."

Before Harry could respond, a cheerful scream echoed around the area. Harry turned his head just as his parents
landed in the pool, splashing him and Hermione. They laughed as they wiped the water from their faces and when
Hermione turned back to Harry, still smiling, he noticed she'd missed a drop of water on her lip.

He almost leaned in to lick it away. He had advanced forward a few inches and was imagining how her lips would
taste—fruity, like the nectar from those flowers she'd been tasting—when he caught himself.

Stop! What are you doing?

He froze, then leaned back on his hands as casually as possible. Bloody hell. What was that? He blamed that ice
cream photo he'd been looking at the other day for putting the idea in his head. He knew looking through those
was a bad idea.

His parents had pulled themselves out of the water and asked if Harry or Hermione wanted to join them for
another jump. Harry got to his feet. "What do you say, Hermione?"

She snorted.

"You can just come up and see the view, then walk down," he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and pulled the notebook into her lap. "I'm going to work on this. You go on."

Harry nodded and headed toward the path his parents had already disappeared down. When he reached the first
turn, he looked over his shoulder and caught Hermione watching him. She snapped her head back down as soon
as she saw him looking at her.

So, it wasn't just him. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes off of him, too. His heart fluttered at the
thought, but the feeling of elation was quickly replaced by nausea. He sighed as he picked up his pace, running to
catch up to his parents.

What are you doing?! Hermione is Ron's fiancée! Your fiancée's best friend! Your best friend!

No matter how he looked at it, it was bad. He told himself he'd stop these thoughts as soon as he was back in his
world, but they were getting harder to control. Forgetting about them once they were back wasn't going to be
possible. They were going to have to address this, and soon, before he ended up doing something stupid.

A few hours later, they were walking to the Apparition point, glad to have their wands back, when Hermione
stopped abruptly on the path. "Bugger! I left my notebook!"

"Where?"

"By the pool, next to the flowers."

"What's in it?" Lily asked.

"Nothing that important. Just notes from the trip. I guess I can recreate them." She gave Harry a dejected look and
he guessed she was thinking about the hours worth of work they'd done scoring that list of jobs which they'd also
have to recreate.

"I'll get it," Harry said. "We're not that far away and I remember how to get to the waterfall."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really? Okay, I'll go with you."

"I'll go with him," James said. "You two go on ahead."

"Oh. Are you sure?" Hermione asked.

"He doesn't want to have to do any cooking, if he can help it," Lily muttered to Hermione.

James pretended to ignore her. "Let's go, Harry. If we're quick, we'll be back in time to help with dinner."

Lily just laughed as she and Hermione continued toward the Apparition point. "Oh! Pocket some of those
flowers!" Hermione called after the guys.

"I'm beginning to think you left that notebook on purpose!" Harry said over his shoulder.

Harry and James found the notebook easily, tucked under the flower bush, and were walking back through the
canyon, trying to find the Apparition Point, when James said. "I think we missed a turn."

"Yeah. I was just about to get the coin and ask Hermione for the coordinates."

"Hush!" James hissed. He moved his finger to his lips and cocked his head toward the wall. Harry joined him
against the wall and strained his ears, then he heard it. There were low voices, which normally wouldn't be cause
for concern, but they appeared to be arguing.

Harry and his dad shuffled closer to the sound, making sure to stay hidden against the wall.

"...giant 'll get yeh."

"That's what the cloak's for. You distract 'im by fightin' about turnin' yer wand in and I get in with the cloak."

"It worked for Robins las' month. And he made a killin' with them Chizpurfle fangs."

"Yeah, but he killed the blasted creature, set the giants on 'igh alert. It'll be 'arder today."

"'Ow do you get the fangs without killin' it?"

Harry was about to turn to his dad and say that they must have found some of those illegal Potions dealers
Hermione was talking about when James's head bobbed forward and he slumped to the ground.

Harry looked around wildly for the person who had Stunned his dad and found him a second too late. He was a
burly man, about Harry's height, with sandy brown hair. He was coming up the path the way they'd walked in,
holding his wand out as he pulled an invisibility cloak off of himself.

Brilliant job, Auror Potter, Harry thought before the Stunning Spell hit him and everything went black.

When Harry came to, he was sitting on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. His dad was behind him
and judging by the feeling of his hands on Harry's binds, he was awake. Harry carefully took in the scene around
them.

There were four men, the sandy-haired one that had Stunned them and three others. They had the look of
criminals, but Harry couldn't tell which type. The lowly, stupid ones or the ones higher up the chain, who were
clever and pretty good at dueling. There was one way to find out.

Harry squeezed his dad's wrist to let him know he was awake. "Stay still," James whispered back, almost
inaudibly.

At least one of these thugs was stupid because they'd placed Harry and his dad in this position, back-to-back. It
was a good way to keep them upright while Stunned, but it gave them the chance to remove each other's binds,
like James was doing now. Harry felt a few shocks of magic and the next moment, his hands were free. He started
working on his dad's binds and had them off in two minutes.

The men, who'd been arguing, had just noticed Harry and James were awake. They were making their way back
to them as James whispered, "Don't let them know you're free."
Harry had planned to listen to his dad, but then one of the men got too close and he decided not to waste the
opportunity. Harry kicked a leg out and used it to swipe the closest man's legs out from under him. The man
slammed to the ground and dropped the wand he'd been holding but before Harry could grab it, the second man
Summoned it and now he was pointing two wands at Harry.

During the struggle, James had thrown himself at the sandy-haired man and was wrestling with him on the ground
while the fourth man watched with his wand raised, trying to figure out how to help his friend. "Harry, don't—!"
James was cut off when the sandy-haired man pushed him back to the ground.

Harry focused back on his own opponent. He dodged two spells, then was about to lunge for the man, the way his
dad had done, when James shouted, "Harry, catch!" and tossed him a wand.

Once Harry had a wand, defeating the thug was easy. It turned out he was the stupid type of criminal. Harry cast a
spell at the man's left side, missing on purpose, and causing the man to cast a Shield Charm on his left. Then
Harry shot a blast of wind on the man's right, which slammed him into his own Shield Charm and knocked him to
the ground.

Harry Disarmed the man and both wands he was holding flew into Harry's hands. He Stunned the man quickly,
then turned and Stunned his friend next, who was still on the floor, watching the fray. Harry bound them and
turned to his dad, who had just finished Stunning his second opponent.

Now that all the criminals were Stunned and Bound, Harry finally let himself relax. They'd done it. Harry
gathered all the wands, finding his in the inside pocket of the sandy-haired man's vest, then he helped his dad drag
the men to the wall and secure their binds.

"That was close," Harry said as he stood up. "It's lucky they weren't that good at fighting."

"They weren't," James said slowly, "but you…were." He stepped back with his wand pointed at Harry's chest.
"Who the hell are you and what have you done with my son?"
 Giant's Gulch, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry's blood ran cold.

"Who are you?" James repeated. "Because I know you're not my son."

"I am," Harry bit out, finally finding his breath.

James shot a spell at him. Harry parried the spell and jumped to his left, to get away from the wall so he would
have a better position with more room to move.

"My son has a knack for dueling, but he's never been trained in it. You have. I can tell by the way you're standing,
the fact that you just moved off the wall, and that trick with the wind, where did you learn that? That's a trick a lot
of the Aurors I work with use. So, I'm going to give you one more chance to tell me who you are."

"I am your son! I am. Just, a different...version."

James tried to hit him with another spell, which Harry deflected with a Shield Charm.

"What the hell does that mean? Where is my son?!"

Harry opened his mouth, but faltered. He hadn't been expecting to do this right now; not without Hermione. He
didn't know where to start. And having his dad point a wand at him while his eyes gleamed with fury was making
it a lot harder.

"You did a good job pretending," James continued. "Your Patronus is the same as his—I'm still not sure how you
managed that. Your Disguising Charm is the best I've seen—outside of Polyjuice. And your acting is remarkable.
You've copied a lot of his mannerisms. You fly like him, you managed to sound sincere when we talked about
Sirius, and the dynamic between you and Hermione—but she's in on it, isn't she? It explains her memory lapses
and how she seems to know every spell in existence."

Harry knew what his dad was doing. He was stalling, which the Aurors did often when they were waiting for
backup. But who would he be—shit. The coin. Harry saw then that James's hand was behind his back, perhaps
reaching into his back pocket. He must be planning to send his mum a message with the coin. But Hermione
would see it at the same time. Who would see it first? Would they end up fighting, too?

Harry dove to his right as he shot a Summoning Charm at his dad with his left hand. "Accio coin!"

The coin flew out of James's pocket but he caught it in the air. "Stupefy!"

Harry dodged the spell. "Expelliarmus!"

James cast a Shield Charm and the Disarming Spell bounced back at Harry, but he ducked just in time. Then, they
were dueling in earnest.

Harry was trying to hold back, not wanting to hurt his dad, but James was doing no such thing. He seemed to
have no qualms about hurting Harry, obviously convinced by now that he was not his real son. The only good
thing was he wasn't aiming to kill or seriously injure, since he thought he needed Harry to get information about
his son's whereabouts.

"I don't want to hurt you!" Harry cried. "I can explain, I promise—" He cut off to block another spell.

"Start explaining," James said coldly.

"Your son's safe and I—like I said, I'm just a different version."

"Where is he?"

"I—I don't know," Harry said honestly.

James glowered at him. "Fine. If you're not going to tell me, I'll just find out myself." He began running at Harry
and then, when he was just a few feet away, transformed into a stag. Now he was charging Harry at full force.
Harry jumped into the air, using a spell to thrust him higher, and missed being stabbed by his dad's horns by an
inch.

As Harry floated back to the ground, the stag snorted and scraped his hoof, getting ready for another charge.
Harry swore to himself. He'd never fought an Animagus before, but they'd learned about them in training. Most
spells he tried would be useless, since magic worked differently on animals. He was supposed to use an
Animagus Reversal Spell to force him to transform back, but Harry only knew the theory behind the spell.

His dad charged again. This time, Harry rolled off his back, but nearly tripped on his way down. He wasn't going
to last if things continued like this. He was already getting tired and his dad could go on in his stag form for
hours.

Harry tried to cast the Reversal Spell and though it hit his dad square in the chest, it did nothing. Either he'd done
it wrong, or James had figured out a way to block it. Based on the way the stag was cocking its head, wearing an
almost smug expression, Harry guessed it was the latter.

Harry needed to entice his dad to transform back into a human on his own, but how the hell—? He got an idea.

The next time his dad charged, Harry dropped his wand. When he reached the other end of the clearing, he began
patting himself and looking around wildly. When his dad spotted the wand on the ground, he lunged for it,
transforming back into a human in midair. When James hit the ground next to the wand, he rolled gracefully and
pulled himself to his feet, pointing two wands at Harry with a triumphant smile on his face.

Harry walked backward until he hit the wall and waited for his dad to approach. He hoped he was right and that
James would try to force information out of him instead of Stunning him. If he decided to Stun Harry and go back
to the campsite for Hermione… No, he couldn't think of that. James was impatient and would try to question him
now; Harry was sure of it.

James slammed Harry back against the wall, holding him in place with his shoulder as he pushed both wand tips
into his neck. "Where is my son?"

"I'm your son."

James shoved him harder into the stone wall. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying. I'm your son, and I can prove it." Harry pulled his head to the side, so the wand tips in his dad's
hands were facing the wall, instead of his neck, and cried, "Accio wand!"

James looked understandably confused and was probably wondering why Harry had tried to cast a spell without a
wand. What he didn't see was one of the thug's wands flying toward them from the other side of the clearing.
Harry caught it and pointed at his dad's side as he murmured, "Stupefy."

"That wouldn't have worked if I wasn't your son," Harry said as he caught his dad and carefully lowered him to
the ground. He'd learned from two brothers in the Auror Department that family members could channel each
other's magic since their magical signatures were similar. The brothers used it to great effect in battles, just as
Harry had done. Though, in the case of the brothers, they were working together.

Tears stung Harry's eyes. How was he supposed to get James to listen to him when all he was concerned about
was his own son? Of course that's who he wanted. Harry had been stupid to think he'd be understanding. He
leaned his head against the cool stone of the wall and took a deep, shaky breath.
James had a point, didn't he? Where was the other Harry? Was he okay? Harry had never pressed Hermione on
this. Honestly, even now, he was having trouble caring. He hated the other Harry and this life he got to live. Who
cared if he came back a little worse for wear?

His dad cared, obviously. And what would James think if he knew of the dark thoughts Harry was currently
having? The other Harry probably wasn't like this. He was kind and well-adjusted—that fucking prick. Harry
sighed again.

He needed to get back to the campsite. But first, he should deal with the thugs. He secured their binds, pocketed
all their wands, and planned to send them by owl to MACUSA before leaving the country. Perhaps he could ask
the American couple they'd met last night to help him with that. Before he left the clearing, he sent a Patronus to
the giant who guarded the entrance to the sanctuary. He'd know what to do.

Harry took a final breath. He considered sending Hermione a message through the coin, but what would he say?
He wasn't in the right state of mind to think of a clever code his mum wouldn't be able to understand. He settled
on simply asking Hermione for coordinates, remembering they were lost, which was how they'd ended up in this
situation.

The coin burned in his hand a few seconds later as the coordinates of the Apparition point appeared in red. Harry
sighed, cast a Featherlight Charm on his dad, then pulled him up and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders
as he made his way toward the Apparition point, using his wand to point the way. As he walked, he tried to ignore
the feeling of dread settling in his gut.

When Harry returned to the campsite, he waited outside for a few moments, still holding up his dad's limp form.
What was he going to do? He needed to get Hermione alone, but how would he do that? Leave James here, then
go in and ask for a private word with Hermione? His mum would wonder where his dad was and he didn't want to
scare her. Harry could say James was outside, chatting with the Americans. That was believable.

Before Harry could execute his plan, Lily appeared at the entrance of the tent. Fuck.

"I thought I heard you. What took you two so—James!" She ran toward Harry, looking panicked. His heart
dropped. This is exactly what he'd been trying to prevent. "Is he Stunned? What happened?"

"We—er—met some thugs—illegal potions dealers—and we fought them off. We're fine. He's fine, just Stunned,
as you said."

"Then let's wake him up!" She started to take her wand out of her pocket.

"No!" Harry cried, placing a hand on her arm.

Hermione was outside now, walking up behind Lily. Harry gave her a knowing look, trying to communicate with
his eyes what had happened, but she just looked confused. He looked back at his mum, who was eyeing him
warily.

"Before we, er, wake him up," Harry said, stumbling through his words, "I have to tell you something."

Hermione hitched her breath and Harry saw realization flash in her eyes. Finally.

Lily's gaze hardened and she shook Harry's hand off her arm. "What is going on here? Did you do this, Harry?"

"Stupefy!"

Hermione rushed forward and caught Lily before she fell to the ground. "Shoot! I'm sorry, Harry! I panicked. She
was turning her wand on you and—bollocks! What—what do we do? What's the plan?"

"Calm down," he said sternly, looking around the area. Luckily, there was no one around. "Let's get them inside."
Hermione nodded and followed Harry into the tent. He propped James up on the couch, then helped Hermione
place his mum next to him. He let out a large sigh and started pacing the room, raking his fingers through his hair
as he swore under his breath.

"What happened?" Hermione asked as she watched him move around the room.

"We ran into some of those illegal potion dealers you were talking about. We heard them planning to sneak into
the sanctuary and while we were listening, one of them came upon us and Stunned us. He was wearing an
Invisibility Cloak, so I didn't see him until too late."

Hermione hitched her breath.

"It was fine. We fought them off quickly but—after…" Harry looked at James, who was still unconscious on the
couch. "He knew. He could tell I was professionally trained and demanded I tell him where his son was. I tried to
explain but—he attacked me, we fought, and I Stunned him."

Hermione pulled her lip between her teeth as she looked back at Lily and James. "We have to wake them up and
tell them."

"I know that. It's the only option at this point. Well, besides Obliviating them, but I'm not doing that. I just—" He
paused to sigh. "It's going to be awful. You should have seen how angry he was."

"I'll be here," she whispered.

Harry gave her a small smile, then sighed and lifted his wand.

"Wait!" Hermione said, holding out Lily's wand. "We should give them their wands back. That way they'll know
we don't mean them any harm."

Harry shook his head. "We can't give my dad a wand. If he has a wand when he wakes up, he'll just start firing
curses at us. You should see how fiercely he was fighting me. He even transformed and fought me as a stag."

"And you beat him? That's impressive."

"Is now really the time for this?" he hissed.

"Is there ever a bad time for a compliment?" she bit back.

"Yes!" he seethed, cocking his head toward Lily and James.

"Sorry! I'm stressed, okay? I was expecting to have more time to prepare for this. Practice the conversation, make
note cards with talking points, think through—"

"Hermione!"

"Sorry."

Harry exhaled heavily. "It's fine. We need to be calm and, er, on the same page, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so, erm...how about we offer them their wands if they agree to hear us out. How does that sound?"

"Good," she said, going to join him at the center of the room. "It's going to be okay, Harry."

"Yeah? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He turned back to his parents. "Please don't pick this as the first time you're wrong about something."
Hermione's lips turned up slightly. "Ready?"

Harry nodded. They both raised their wands. Hermione's was pointed at Lily and Harry's was pointed at James as
they said, "Renervate."

As soon as his eyes opened, James shot to his feet. He turned and scanned Lily, then, seemingly satisfied that she
was unharmed, moved so he was standing in front of her as he glared at Harry and Hermione. Harry could tell by
the way his eyes were darting around the room that he was planning out a method of attack.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, her green eyes darting between Harry and James.

Harry was frozen in place and when it didn't seem like he was going to say anything, Hermione said to James,
"We weren't trying to hurt you or scare you. And we're—um—going to give you your wands back, as long as you
agree to hear us out."

James held out his hand. "Give me my wand, now."

Hermione looked at Harry, who was holding his parents' wands.

"Wand," James repeated.

Harry nodded and placed the wands in James's hand. Harry was holding his own wand ready, just in case, but
James seemed content to listen, at least for now. James took a seat on the couch again and whispered something
to Lily as he gave her back her wand.

"They're not the real Harry and Hermione?" Lily asked out loud. "How do you know?"

James pointed to Harry. "Apparently they're going to explain. And if they can't give me a good enough
explanation of where the real Harry and Hermione are…" He leaned forward and glowered at Harry as he
finished with, "I'm going to kill them."

Harry swallowed back a lump in his throat. When Hermione nudged his side, he began to talk. "We came from
another—er—world. A world with all the same people, just a different set of circumstances. So, we—er—
are Harry and Hermione. Just, uh, different versions. Hermione's an Unspeakable in that world and she found a
way to go to different dimensions and, uh, that's how we got here. We ended up in the other Harry and
Hermione's bodies, so we're not using Disguising Spells or anything."

"Where are the real Harry and Hermione?" James asked, not taking his eyes off of Harry.

Harry looked at Hermione. "I don't know," she said honestly. "But I do know they are safe and as soon as we
leave, they'll be returned to these bodies, completely unaffected by this dimension-hopping."

"How are you so sure?" James challenged.

"I've done it before. Before I brought Harry, I'd come to this world and left, just for a few hours, and the other
Hermione was fine. I know if she'd noticed something amiss, she would have written it in her planner, but she
didn't, which means she was unaffected and had no knowledge of me being in her world. It'll be the same when
we eventually leave and they return to these bodies. They'll be fine."

"Except for a large gap in memory," James said darkly.

Hermione looked uncomfortable. She dropped her eyes and began studying the leg of the coffee table.

"It's not Hermione's fault," Harry chimed in, finding his voice again. "She didn't want to stay this long. It was just
supposed to be—er—that first dinner. Then we were supposed to go back but I forced her—well, not forced, but
begged her to come on this trip and now—uh, here we are."

James and Lily just stared at him, both looking slightly angry. "I'm sorry," Harry added lamely. He looked down
and started studying the same coffee table leg as Hermione.
"Why?" Lily asked. "I don't—I don't understand. I guess I can see being curious about another world, but why
stay? Why steal this trip—this time—from the other couple? Our Harry wouldn't be so selfish."

Shame washed over Harry. He wanted to run away but forced himself to stay in place. He kept his eyes down and
felt Hermione place a gentle hand on his arm. "You're dead," she said in a soft voice. "In our world, it's all
different. Voldemort interpreted the Prophecy as referring to Harry and he went to kill Harry that night, not
Neville. You two died, not the Longbottoms, and Harry was the Boy Who Lived.

"It was Harry who fought Voldemort, over and over again, Harry who hunted and destroyed the Horcruxes, and
Harry who eventually led us to victory. And he—" She paused and Harry saw her looking at him out of her
periphery, but still kept his gaze down. "He just wanted to meet you, once, and that's why I brought him here and
then—extending it was...selfish, yes, but we—we're sorry."

James and Lily were quiet as they exchanged nervous looks. Harry was still determinedly looking away from
them. Hermione scratched his back lightly and leaned into him as she waited for James or Lily to respond.

"I don't believe you," James said.

"I can show you." Hermione stepped away from Harry toward James. "Look in my mind."

"I'm not a Legilimens."

"I'm sure you know how to view memories someone is trying to show you. Don't all the Aurors know that?"

"I'm not an Auror," he countered.

"I know. But you worked with them and—please? Just try?"

James bit the inside of his cheek as he considered. "I'll try. But I don't want to see your memories. You say you're
an Unspeakable. Who knows what strange magic you have at your disposal?" He turned toward Harry. "I want to
see your mind."

Harry finally looked back up. James was eyeing him harshly. Harry took a deep breath and looked at Hermione.
Was this really a good plan? Giving the man with a wand, who looked like he was a few wrong moves away from
killing them, access to his mind?

"It'll be fine," Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded. He guessed it was the only way to get James to believe them. He knew if he were in James's
position, he'd be just as wary. He was trying to figure out what to show him—Fighting Voldemort? Or perhaps a
visit to Godric's Hollow, where the house was destroyed?—when Hermione leaned in and said in a low voice,
"Show him the Department of Mysteries and how we got here."

James stepped around the coffee table, pointing his wand at Harry's head, and Harry had to fight the instinct to
back away. Hermione moved the hand that was on his arm down and linked their fingers together. She gave his
hand an encouraging squeeze as James asked, "Ready?"

Harry nodded again and the next moment, they were in his mind. Harry had decided to start at the point when
he'd been sitting at his desk, working on the case report. He hoped showing his dad he was an Auror would add to
his credibility. Hermione came and told him he needed to follow her somewhere and that it was an emergency.

They went to the Department of Mysteries, he gave her his magic, she gave it back once they were inside, and
they stepped into the Portal, grabbing that strange silky ribbon. They reappeared in the other Harry and
Hermione's flat and Harry retched for a few moments. Then Hermione took him to a mirror and showed him how
his scar was gone.

James exited the memory. His eyes were wide and almost scared as he went back to Lily's side. He whispered
something in her ear and she bit her lip but otherwise, her expression remained blank.
Harry watched James take a deep breath and when he turned back to face them, his face was also blank. "I'm
sorry about your parents," he said in a cold, distant voice. "But you need to leave. We're going to go upstairs and
the next time we come out of our room, we better find the other Hermione and Harry back in their bodies. If not,
I'm calling the authorities."

He marched away, pulling Lily behind him, who gave Harry a parting, betrayed look over her shoulder before
following after her husband.

Harry stumbled over to the couch. It was still warm from where his mum had been sitting, which made the
coldness settling in his veins worse. He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. But
he didn't cry. He was too empty to summon tears.

He felt that darkness, the one he thought was long-buried, flowing through his body. That feeling that he didn't
belong. That no one wanted him. That he was all alone. No...not completely alone. He focused on Hermione's
warmth. She'd sat next to him on the couch and was rubbing the top of his back. He clung to that feeling like an
anchor.

After a few moments, he leaned into her and was relieved when she didn't push him away. Hermione was here.
He wasn't allowed to hug her, he'd mucked that up by becoming attracted to her, kissing her too fervently, and
staring at her too much. But he was allowed to lean on her. And if he didn't do anything stupid, she'd stay by his
side, just like she'd always done, and he would never be completely alone again.

Hermione rested her forehead against Harry's shoulder. Her heart was breaking for him. That devastated look in
his eyes once his parents left the room—he'd look so young. Tears stung her eyes. This was her fault.

She'd orchestrated this whole thing. She should have anticipated this. But Hermione hadn't been thinking of Lily
and James. She'd been solely focused on Harry, like always.

"Hey," she said, sitting up on the couch.

He nodded so she'd know he heard her but kept his face in his hands.

"I'm going to try something. Why don't you go to the room and I'll meet you in there?"

Harry finally looked up as Hermione got to her feet. "What are you going to do?"

"Prove to your dad that the other Harry and Hermione are fine."

"You can do that?"

"I think so." She was at the stairs now. "I'll see you in the room when I'm finished, okay? And then..." She let her
voice trail off. They both knew what she was thinking. Then, they'd either stay, if whatever Hermione planned to
show James worked to change his mind, or they'd travel back to their world.

Harry just nodded.

When Hermione reached the hall outside James and Lily's room, she paused to take a breath. She raised her fist to
knock and realized she couldn't knock on the soft canvas. Just then, Harry came up the stairs behind her. "Do you,
er, need help?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head and cocked her elbow toward their room. "I'll meet you in there. Um, wish me luck."

He forced a smile on his face, which was more like a grimace, before disappearing into their room. Hermione
sighed as she turned around. He'd given up, that was clear, but she hadn't yet. She raised her voice and said,
"Knock, knock."

"Who is it?" James's voice said from inside. "Our Hermione or the imposter?"
"Imposter," she said back, then paused to take another deep breath. "I can prove the other couple is fine. I have
some memories to show you to—um—allay your fears."

Her words were met with silence.

"Please? I promise Unspeakables can't create false memories. We don't have magic that's able to alter the brain
like that or—well—we don't have that sort of magic in my world."

James huffed as he went to grab his wand from the bedside table. "If I look at this memory, will you go?" he
asked sharply. Lily was sitting on the bed but Hermione avoided her eyes.

"Well?" James pressed when he returned to the hall. "Will you go back to where you came from after I view this
memory?"

Hermione simply hummed, then pulled back her shoulders and held her head up, waiting for that invasive feeling
of having her mind entered.

"Legilimens," James murmured.

He was in her thoughts for a few minutes before pulling out violently, leaving Hermione's head pounding with
pain. He was right, he was no Legilimens, but she could tell by the look of shock on his face that he'd seen the
memories she'd let flash in her brain.

"Bloody hell," he whispered.

She nodded.

"Is that the only way?"

Hermione nodded again.

He frowned and was silent for a few seconds, then he set his jaw and said, "Very well. Do it. Go."

"One more memory!" she insisted. The pounding in her head was shouting at her to listen to him, since she didn't
want to endure that pain again, but she had to try this, for Harry.

"You said you'd go after I viewed that one."

"No, I didn't. I just hummed. I didn't commit to anything. Please?"

James closed his eyes and rubbed his temples and she wondered if the Legilimency was painful for him too.
"After this one, I'll leave you alone. I promise," she added in a soft voice.

"Fine," he sighed.

A few moments later, they were back in her mind. She brought him to the graveyard at Godric's Hollow. It was
Christmas Eve, one year later than when she and Harry had first visited the place. She and Harry were walking
arm and arm through the kissing gate while Harry thanked her for coming with him and explained how he'd been
wanting to visit without Polyjuice.

Hermione sped through the memory, stopping when the memory Harry and Hermione reached their destination.
They stopped in front of James and Lily's grave. Harry leaned forward and wiped the snow away, so they could
read the inscription. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

"I've thought about this quote more...and what you said," he began, his voice rough. "About them living beyond
death. I didn't agree when you first explained it. I thought, 'They're gone. They're not living beyond death. They
don't even know I'm here right now.'" His voice cracked at the end.

"You keep them alive by loving them," Hermione said gently.

"Yeah, I got that, later… You know me, slow on the uptake."

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder as he continued speaking. "And I do love them. But I don't even know
them. All I have are other people's stories and a few photos but—that's not them. Can I really keep them alive
with just that?"

"I think so."

Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder and turned to face him. She grabbed his cheek and pulled it so he was
forced to look at her. "I'm sorry you didn't know them. But I think what's more tragic is that they didn't know you.
They would have been so proud to have you as their son. Not just because of your accomplishments but just… for
who you are, and who you became, despite everything."

She grabbed his arm and turned back to the grave before adding, "Or maybe I'm just projecting because I'm so
proud of you, but I think they'd agree."

Harry wrapped his arm around her, then Hermione jumped. "Oh! I nearly forgot. I brought this." She pulled a
small wreath from the inside pocket of her coat and put it down, then looked around to make sure no one was
around before Enlarging it with her wand. "This one's real, so it won't disappear after a few hours, like the one I
Conjured last year."

Harry gave her a teary smile as he took her arm and tucked it into his. "Thank you."

James pulled out of her mind, a little more gently this time, but when she returned to the present, her brain was
still thumping uncomfortably. James was watching her with a look of sorrow that matched Harry's from earlier.

"He just wanted to know you," Hermione whispered. "That's why we stayed."

James closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. When he opened his eyes again, he'd regained most of his
composure and said in a flat voice, "You're not that different from the Hermione I know."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. From what I've gathered so far, you like her quite a lot."

"I do. She's brilliant and bold and would do anything for my son."

"I'm the same."

They regarded each other for several moments, then James swore and turned back to Lily, who'd been watching
the interchange and currently looked very confused. "What did she show you?" Lily asked.

James bit his lip and turned back to Hermione. "I need…" He sighed. "Give us...time."

Hermione nodded.

"But don't go back. Not yet."

"Okay. Um, thanks. For giving me a chance to explain."

James nodded and lowered the canvas flap, looking eager to put distance between them. The next moment,
Hermione heard buzzing and knew he'd cast a Muffliato Charm. She took another long breath before turning back
to her room.

She found Harry sitting in the same position on the edge of the bed as he had been downstairs, with his elbows
propped up on his knees and his head in his hands. She went to stand in front of him. "Hey."

He peeked at her out of his hands. "Hey. What did you do?"

"Showed him some memories from my research that proved that his Harry and Hermione are going to be fine."
Harry hummed before dropping his head again. He knew he should probably ask for more details about that, but
he couldn't find the energy to care. He was too selfish, just as his mum had said.

A firm hand on his shoulder drew his thoughts back to Hermione. "I was thinking," she said softly.

"That's new."

She forced out a small laugh. "I think we can end the hugging hiatus."

Harry looked up from his hands. "What?"

"We can put the whole 'not hugging thing' on hold for a bit, because of—uh—extenuating circumstances?"

His lips curved up. "You named it 'hugging hiatus?'"

"It was either that or 'embracing embargo.'"

Harry snorted. "What about...kissing kibosh?"

"Good one. But, um, we should probably keep that in place."

"Yeah."

Hermione took a step closer, so her legs were touching his knees, and placed both of her hands on his shoulders.
Harry opened his legs and she stepped into them as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He snaked his arms
around her torso and pulled her close, laying his head against her chest.

Harry immediately felt better. The tension in his shoulders relaxed and a few tears fell down his cheeks. He held
her tighter, clinging to her like a lifeline. She knew him. She loved him. And as long as she was here, he wasn't
alone.

He could feel her heartbeat and tried to focus on its steady rhythm instead of how perfect it felt to be in her arms,
and the terrifying thought that had crept into his mind. The realization that when he was feeling down and
everything seemed bleak, this was the only place that felt like home.
An hour later, Hermione was sitting on the bed with her back resting on the headboard while Harry laid down
with his head in her lap. They were playing 'I've never' and had already established it didn't work with two
people, especially not two people who knew everything about each other, but it was a way to pass the time.

Hermione was stroking his hair as she thought of what to say for the next round. He closed his eyes, relishing the
massage. "I've never…" she began, "um...battled a dragon."

Harry snorted. "I didn't battle it. I flew around it." He cracked an eye open and added, "And that, you have done."

"Fine. I'll give you that. It's not like we're keeping score or anything."

"If we were, I'd be winning," he replied.

"No. But I'll let you think that because I feel bad for you."

"Because my parents hate me?"

"Yes," she said simply.

Harry couldn't help but smile. It was far from funny, but he was finished crying—at least for now. "I've never
dated a famous Quidditch star," he said, thinking of Krum.

"Yes you have. You're engaged to one."

Harry opened his eyes. "Is she famous?"

"Everyone knows Harry Potter's fiancée."

"Oh. She's not a star though, is she? I mean, don't tell her I said so."

Hermione let out a laugh. She'd stopped running her fingers through his hair and he wondered if it was because
they were talking about Ginny. "I'll give it to you," he said hastily. "It's your turn."

Hermione nodded and he watched her brow knit as she thought. "Oh. I've never freed a house-elf." Then, she
added bitterly, "Though not for lack of trying." Harry was sure she was thinking of all the hats she'd knit in Fourth
Year.

"Technically, I didn't free Dobby. Lucius did."

"Is that bastard still alive and kicking in your world?"

Harry sat up quickly and started smoothing his hair. James stood in the doorway, watching them with an
unreadable expression. "He's—er—in Azkaban," Harry said as he got to his feet. "But he got a reduced sentence.
He'll probably be out in a few years."

James just nodded and said darkly, "Same in this world."

Harry stood in front of his dad and waited for him to yell, or tell them to go again, or...something. He just studied
Harry for a few long, awkward moments. Then he dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose under his
glasses.

Harry turned back to Hermione, who looked just as confused as he was. When James looked back up at Harry, his
eyes were wet. "If I ever lost my son, I would travel to countless worlds until I found him again. So, I can't blame
you for doing the same."

Harry blinked back tears. James stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and pulled him into a firm
hug. Harry didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected James to forgive him. Is that what was happening? He
carefully wrapped his arms around his dad's waist.

When James finally pulled away, he gave Harry a small smile. "I guess we have a lot to catch up on."

Harry just nodded. He saw Hermione move from the corner of his eye. "I'll leave you alone," she said. Harry
turned to her and gave her a panicked look. She shot him a comforting smile. As she passed him on the way to the
door, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, "Just be yourself."

Hermione made her way downstairs, planning to read to distract herself from what was going on between James
and Harry. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she spotted Lily on the couch. Hermione hesitated but
unfortunately, there was nowhere else to go. She was sure Lily was waiting for her since if she wanted to be
alone, she would have stayed in her room.

Hermione squared her shoulders, then went to the couch, lowering herself in the spot next to Lily. The same spot
James had sat Stunned just a few hours ago.

When Lily turned to face Hermione, her expression was stern. Not angry or sad, like Hermione had been
expecting, but rather, disappointed, the same way McGonagall looked when she was assigning Hermione
detention. When she spoke, her tone was similar to McGonagall's, too. "You should have told us from the
beginning."

"I know."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. We never really talked about it but—I guess we thought you'd behave more like yourselves if you
didn't know."
 Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to tell Lily that she was lovely, easily one of Hermione's favorite people, in any
world. And she wanted to say she was sorry for betraying her trust and for not being the person Lily thought she
was. But Hermione couldn't make the words come out. She was paralyzed by shame.

"This whole thing was your idea?" Lily asked.

Hermione nodded. She took a breath, trying to loosen the knot in her chest. "Harry wanted to extend our visit, but
bringing him in the first place, that was me. And, honestly, I think maybe I knew, subconsciously, he'd want to
stay longer and had already agreed to it when I decided to bring him."

Lily shook her head. "Why did you do it? It's so...extreme."

Hermione had to look away from Lily's searching gaze before answering. "I just wanted him to know what it felt
like."

"What what felt like?"

"To be loved and accepted just for being...him. Not for being Harry Potter, the one who killed Voldemort, the Boy
Who Lived, or the Savior of the Wizarding World. But just...Harry."

"Are you saying he doesn't have that?"

Hermione took in a long, shaky breath. How could she explain? How could she put into words something so
complicated? Something even Harry didn't really understand, but that she was pretty sure he felt. "Very few
people in his life have loved him like that. And, um, most of them are gone now."

Lily frowned and Hermione watched her brow furrow as she looked down at the coffee table. Then, she placed a
hand on Hermione's leg and said with a small, sad smile, "Except for you."

Hermione didn't have a response for that. Only tears.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I found this chapter so tricky to write, so I'd love to know what you think. This is by far the most
complex story (at least relationship-wise) I've written. I hope you're enjoying it! As always, continued thanks
to my beta, Lancashire Witch. And a special thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustration!
 Giant's Gulch, Part 4
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The group was currently sitting around the table, eating the dinner Hermione and Lily had been preparing earlier,
before they were interrupted. After Harry told James a few basic facts about his life—mostly just a repeat of what
Hermione had already said: how he was the Boy Who Lived, how he had grown up an orphan, and he was the one
who killed Voldemort—James said they shouldn't go over everything without the witches. So they came
downstairs and decided to sit down for a belated dinner.

Now that they were all sitting in front of their plates, no one seemed to know how to start the conversation. They
moved the pasta around with their forks for a few minutes, and the wizards even tried a few bites. Harry
murmured a quick thanks to his mum and Hermione for making the meal, they each nodded, and everyone was
silent again.

It was James who ultimately broke the silence. "There's something I don't understand. The reason Neville was
able to survive the Killing Curse that night was because Voldemort never intended to kill Frank and Alice. They
were renowned Aurors who had made a lot of enemies on his side and once he decided to kill their son, he made a
deal with some of his followers to spare Frank and Alice, so they could be—properly punished—before they were
killed.

"But when Voldemort went to kill Neville, Frank jumped in front of the curse, enacting the Sacrificial Magic. But
—if he'd chosen us—" He cut off to take a deep breath, like even the thought of dying alongside his wife was too
much to handle. "He would have had no reason to spare us. We were annoying to his followers, but not hated. He
would have come to our house with the intention of killing all of us."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. They were silently trying to figure out who should explain. Eventually, it
was Harry who said, "It was Snape."

"Severus?" Lily asked.

James looked at her harshly.

"Don't look at me like that. I haven't spoken to Severus since Fifth Year, when he called me a Mudblood. He tried
—several times—but I was done after that. And he just dove further and further into the Dark Arts; I assumed he
was a lost cause."

"He asked Voldemort to spare your life," Harry explained. "So when Voldemort went to kill—er—me, he had no
intention of killing you. When you...died." He paused. He heard her screams, then saw the flash of green light.
His mind was threatening to pull him away. Then, a hand appeared on his wrist. He focused on the warmth.
Hermione.

"You enacted the Sacrificial Magic," Hermione finished for him.

"Snape?" James asked.

Harry nodded.

"Lovely of him to make a deal for just Lily. What was his plan? That once I was out of the way you'd fall into his
arms? That you'd forget about the loss of your husband and son?"

Lily just shrugged.

"Snape was awful," Hermione cut in. "And he was certainly selfish but without that act Harry would have died.
And in later years, Snape went on to do a lot more—at least in our world. What became of him here?"

"He died," Lily said simply. "He went to Azkaban after the first war and died there after five years."

Hermione frowned. It didn't match the Snape she'd known, who was a survivor. But in this world, he'd lost
everything. He'd given up his best friend—who he was desperately in love with—to follow a madman who ended
up perishing in the end. Once in Azkaban, he must have lost the will to live and wasted away as the dementors
forced him to replay his worst memories. How sad. Actually, both of his fates were tragic, but at least in their
world he'd managed to redeem himself a little.

Lily was opening her mouth to ask another question when Hermione said, "I think we should start at the
beginning. Each of us."

Lily nodded and her eyes flashed to Harry, who was sitting completely still as he focused on the salt and pepper
shakers at the center of the table. "What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. It's a good idea," he said roughly.

"We can go first," Lily said, pulling her eyes away from Harry to look at James.

"Yeah," James said. "I'll start."

Just like in the other universe, Neville was raised by his grandmother, Augusta. She tried to shield him from the
world, worried how he'd turn out if he was subjected to fame and adoration his whole childhood, but when
Neville was around six, and still hadn't displayed any signs of being a wizard, she reached out to Dumbledore for
help.

Augusta, like the rest of the Order—which hadn't disbanded following the end of the first war—knew Voldemort
wasn't gone for good. They also knew Neville would be the key to their success in the next war, though not in
what capacity. Dumbledore hadn't shared the full extent of the Prophecy at the time and had simply told the Order
it was important to protect Neville.

Dumbledore ran Neville through every test he knew and confirmed he was, indeed, a wizard—something he
already knew from checking the Hogwarts register—and a powerful one. He encouraged Augusta to let him out
of the house so he could play and interact with children his own age.

Dumbledore reached out to James and Arthur Weasley specifically, since he knew from the Hogwarts register
they had sons who would be in Neville's same year at Hogwarts, and they set up several meetings between the
three boys.

"Neville finally thrived," James explained. "He was the sort of person who did better with a group. He would
observe Harry and Ron trying to stretch the limits of their accidental magic, then, with encouragement from those
two, he'd try it himself. He was always like that, collaborative. He wouldn't make a decision until he'd heard
everyone's opinion. And when it came to fighting, he was okay one on one, but came alive anytime he was trying
to protect his friends."

Hermione and Harry shared a smile. It sounded like in this world, Neville had found that confidence that had
driven him to lead the resistance in Seventh Year and to kill Nagini much earlier in his life.

"Then, they all went to Hogwarts," James continued.

Apparently, the other Harry's first year was very similar to the same year in Harry's world. Voldemort was on the
back of Quirrell's head and at the end of the year, Neville tried to get through the maze to stop Voldemort from
getting the stone—with the help of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"We nearly killed him," James said with a small smile on his face. "The other Harry, I mean. Putting himself in
danger like that. Why didn't he just go to a bloody Professor?!"
"Maybe because he inherited a complete disregard for authority from his father," Lily quipped.

"Maybe," James allowed.

He went on to explain Second Year, which was not as eventful as Harry's. Lucius still tried to sneak the diary in,
but almost as soon as the first student was Petrified, Neville, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found the diary and
turned it over to Dumbledore. Once he learned what it was, he destroyed it and the Chamber of Secrets was never
opened.

"There was nothing of note in your Third Year, except that was the year Gryffindor first won the Quidditch Cup."

"We're supposed to be explaining the war," Lily said, but still turned to Harry and asked, "you played Quidditch,
right?"

"Of course. Seeker."

"Same in this world," James said with a smile, "though I tried hard to get you to be a Chaser."

"Harry's a brilliant flier," Hermione added. "Even though the first time he touched a broom was at Hogwarts, he
was better than all the others and even made the team in our first year."

"First Year?" James asked while Lily said, "Why hadn't you touched a broom before then?"

Hermione blushed while Harry averted his eyes. "I guess we'll get to that," Hermione said nervously. "But first,
um, Fourth Year?"

This is where Neville's path really started to diverge from Harry's. There was still the same drama at the
Quidditch World Cup and Mad Eye Moody—who was an imposter in this world, too—still began teaching at
Hogwarts. But when Neville was named the fourth Triwizard Champion, the Order sprang into action.

It was clear to them something was wrong, as there had been signs for months that Voldemort was close to
returning and they were determined to thwart whatever plans he had for Neville. Neville was briefed on every
task far ahead of time, then given a tutor—sometimes two—to practice with, so they could be sure he'd make it
through the tournament unharmed.

The Order members learned of Moody's deception just before the start of the Third Task and developed a plan of
their own. When Neville reached the cup at the end of the maze, an Auror was waiting for him, ready to
transform into Neville using Polyjuice Potion. The Auror touched the cup and was transported to the graveyard.
Voldemort used their blood, instead of Neville's, to get his body back and once he realized they were not Neville
an hour later, he promptly killed the Auror.

"So Cedric lived?" Harry asked, unable to stop himself from cutting in.

"Cedric?" James asked.

"Cedric Diggory. A Hufflepuff. The real Hogwarts champion."

"Oh, yes," he said, looking slightly confused. "He's alive. Just got married. His father, Amos Diggory, is one of
those who drones on and on about his son."

"Pot calling the kettle black there," Lily murmured.

"I have a question." Hermione said, raising her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" James said in a good impression of Professor McGonagall.

She rolled her eyes. "Who helped Voldemort? In our world, he was helped by someone." She looked at Harry,
who shook his head imperceptibly. They hadn't heard of Peter yet and he thought it best to wait until the end, in
case the fact that one of his best friends was a traitor was news to James.
"We don't know the details," Lily replied, "but we think he happened upon a witch, Bertha Jorkins, while she was
on Holiday. He possessed her and while in her mind, learned that one of his followers, Barty Crouch Jr., was
living with his father. Then he went to break Crouch out—likely still using poor Bertha's body."

There was a collective shudder around the table. "Right," James continued. "So he was back. We spent that
Summer recruiting for the Order and once Fifth Year started, we began training Neville in earnest."

Anger flared in Harry. Neville was admitted to the Order as early as Fifth Year. He wasn't tossed to the side,
forced to live with people he hated while everyone, even his best friends, kept him in the dark. Hermione placed a
hand on his leg. He grasped it as he focused back on his dad.

James explained that Neville was having problems with his mind, which seemed to be linked to Voldemort. They
set him up with Kingsley, an accomplished Occlumens, to work through the problem. After a few months of
lessons, and the help of a few potions Lily worked with Slughorn to make, Neville was able to close his mind to
Voldemort.

Once he could do that, he started private lessons with Dumbledore. They worked together for two years, learning
as much as they could about Voldemort and looking for Horcruxes. Though at the time, Lily and James had no
idea what they were doing. They explained that they leaned on Harry for information, since he was one of
Neville's closest friends, but all Harry said was that Neville missed class about half the time and would never give
details about where he was.

"What did the rest of the students think?" Hermione asked.

"That he was ill," Lily said. "Harry and his friends knew he was with Dumbledore, just not what he was doing,
but I don't think they told anyone else. They were good at keeping secrets."

"Yeah," Hermione said, giving Harry a sidelong look. "So are we."

"I don't think many people noticed, honestly," James added. "Neville was always good at blending into the
background and he knew how important it was for his safety, and our success, that he lay low."

Harry had to resist snorting. He wished he could have laid low. And that Dumbledore had trained him up as early
as Fifth Year. He was with Neville half the time?! How much time had he spent with Harry? Just a handful of
sessions in Sixth Year. Why hadn't he trusted Harry like he seemed to have trusted Neville? What would that have
felt like? To be doing something, rather than sitting back while the adults moved the pieces around the board.

Hermione squeezed his hand again. This time, Harry picked it up and pressed his lips to her knuckles. He knew it
would be unwelcome, and that it violated their 'kissing kibosh,' but he was feeling reckless. Also, he wanted to
feel closer to her—the only person in this room who knew how he was feeling.

When he dropped her hand back in his lap, she didn't pull away, like he expected, but rather, turned her palm and
linked their fingers together as she laid her head on his shoulder. Harry could feel her hair tickling his cheek and
felt a little less alone.

James explained how Neville and Dumbledore methodically found and destroyed Horcruxes. The diary was
destroyed in Neville's Second Year. Then there was a locket—found in Sirius's house, of all places—and a diadem
that used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw, was found in Hogwarts—in the room of lost things, which Sirius and
James were intimately familiar with.

"We knew it was important to find and destroy the objects, but Dumbledore wouldn't tell us why," James was
explaining. "We didn't figure that out until after he died."

"How did you destroy them?" Hermione asked. Harry guessed she was thinking of the sword, and how they'd
only discovered it after opening the Chamber of Secrets. And how it was only effective in destroying the
Horcruxes because it was imbued with Basilisk venom.

"FiendFyre," Lily replied. "It was incredibly dangerous, but we managed to craft a focused spell. Rather,
Dumbledore did and he taught a few of us how to do it."
James nudged her side. "She's being modest. He taught a few of us and only Lily ever caught on. After
Dumbledore was gone, she was the one who destroyed Horcruxes for us."

"Which brings us to Dumbledore's death," Lily said quietly, looking at the table.

James explained that when the fifth Horcrux was found—a ring—it was protected with a Dark curse that
poisoned Dumbledore. They combined their efforts to contain it, but he only had three months to live.

Harry looked at Hermione, who gave him a sad smile. Snape had been able to give Dumbledore a year. But in this
world, Snape was dead and even if he had been alive, he'd have been working for the other side.

"We made plans for after his death, knowing it would be the symbol to kick off the war. We also couldn't let
Voldemort find out how it had happened, since he didn't know we were hunting Horcruxes."

"We didn't know we were hunting Horcruxes," Lily added, a little bitterly.

"Yeah. Well, he let himself be killed on a mission to get information about the last Horcrux, Hufflepuff's cup. It
was Rookwood who fired the curse. And the mission was a bust."

"Not really," Lily said softly. "The primary point of the mission was for Dumbledore to be killed. That part was
successful."

James wrapped an arm around Lily and everyone was quiet for a few moments, remembering different versions of
the same man.

James explained how the war kicked off in full force. The Death Eaters took over the Ministry and Hogwarts as
soon as Dumbledore died and Muggleborns were no longer safe. He and Lily went to live at Headquarters, as did
Neville and Hermione, while Ron and Harry returned to their Seventh Year at Hogwarts, where Lucius Malfoy
had taken over as Headmaster.

"How did Hermione protect her parents?" Hermione asked.

"She placed wards around their house with McGonagall's help," Lily replied. "And she told them she was going
back to Hogwarts and would probably be away for breaks since she had her N.E.W.T. exams to prepare for. She
never told them about the war."

Hermione nodded sadly and now it was Harry's turn to give her hand a comforting squeeze. She hadn't needed to
take the drastic action of wiping their memories in this world, because she hadn't been as much of a target. Harry
had put that target on her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Hermione just shook her head and focused back on James, who was watching them curiously. "You can
continue," she said, her voice flat.

James went on to describe how Neville confided in the Order about the Horcruxes. He had never been as into
keeping secrets as Dumbledore. But there was one secret he didn't know. Dumbledore had pulled Kingsley and
James aside just before his death and told them about the piece of Voldemort's soul that lived in Neville and how
it must be destroyed before Voldemort could be killed. It was the reason Neville's mind was so connected to
Voldemort's.

"Could Neville talk to snakes?" Harry asked.

"Snakes?" James said, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Why? Can you talk to snakes?" He looked alarmed.

Harry nodded. "I bet he can. It just probably never came up. And his wand—did he share cores with Voldemort's
wand?"

"Yes," Lily said. "That was a convenient circumstance that got Neville out of a few tight binds with Voldemort.
And we think it led Voldemort to break into Dumbledore's grave and steal his wand, though we never found out
why."
Harry looked at Hermione. "We know why," Hermione said. "We'll explain in our story."

James continued. He explained how they began looking everywhere for the cup and how around Halloween, they
got a hint. They had captured Rodolpho Lestrange, almost by accident, and Kingsley was able to break into his
mind and see a conversation between him and Bellatrix where she bragged about storing important items for her
Master in the family vault.

After that, the Order worked on planning out their most complicated mission to date: Breaking into Gringotts.

"Was Hermione on that one?" Hermione asked.

"No," James replied. "She helped plan, but we weren't allowing her to go on missions at that point. Just Neville."

James cut off and took a deep breath. "We got the cup," Lily continued for him. "But we lost Remus in that one.
Bellatrix killed him."

"Oh," Harry said, his chest tightening. James was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That led to Sirius's death," Lily continued, her voice sad. "Sirius couldn't let it go. He was mad with grief. So he
joined a mission he never should have been on."

"Don't say that," James cut in.

"It's true. He was in no state of mind to be on missions. You weren't going on them. And I'm not blaming anyone,
he made his own decision, it's just—tragic, since he never should have been there."

Lily turned back to Harry and Hermione. "We were going to Lestrange's estate to get information that would help
us smuggle people over the borders—which we were doing as much as we could. Sirius found Bellatrix. They
dueled and he killed her, but was killed almost immediately afterward by her husband."

"What about in your world?" James asked suddenly. "Are they alive?"

Harry shook his head. His chest tightened at the stricken expression on his dad's face. He looked almost as if he
was losing his friends all over again.

There was another moment of silence. Lily waved her wand to clear their plates, since it was obvious no one was
going to eat any more. Eventually, James took up the story again.

"This was when we told Hermione about Neville. We were reaching the end with just the snake left to destroy and
we couldn't decide if we should tell Neville or not. How do you do that? Tell someone who has been preparing
almost his life for this war that in the end, if we were to come out victorious, he had to die?"

Harry tensed and Hermione took up his hand again. "You said the other Hermione told you not to tell him," she
said softly.

James nodded. "I agreed with her, but I was surprised. I thought for sure she'd have chosen to inform him, since
she never liked all the secrets that were being kept in the Order. I know now why she didn't want him to know."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

It was Lily who answered. "She refused to accept his death as inevitable. She was determined to find another
way." Lily paused to give Hermione a wry smile. "And she did."

"What?" Harry asked. "What did she do?"

Lily looked confused. "I assume you all figured it out too. Otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting here."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then shrugged. "What was it?" Hermione asked. "What did the other
Hermione do?"
"We were planning the final mission, to get the snake, but Hermione pulled back—which was odd. She loved
planning missions. For a solid month, she disappeared into the library at Headquarters, which was very well
stocked, since we were constantly adding tomes collected from the various Death Eater houses we raided. She
discovered an artifact that could do sort of the opposite of soul-binding—an ancient Pureblood Marriage practice.

"She thought it would work, or at least was worth a try, to remove the piece of Voldemort's soul from Neville's. It
would give us a chance to destroy it without destroying him. By then, we'd killed the snake and Voldemort finally
figured out what we were doing. That last mission—to break into Malfoy Manor, where the artifact was—was
very dangerous."

"Neville didn't want to do it," Lily said, picking up the story. "He wanted to go to Voldemort and let him kill him.
He didn't want to risk any more lives being lost. But Hermione convinced him to let her try. Then, if it didn't
work, she said we could go with his 'martyr plan.'"

"It worked?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. That was her first and last mission," James replied. "We had to bring her because... she was the only one
who knew the spell inside and out. We found the object, she did the spell, and we killed the part of Voldemort's
soul that came out of him. Neville collapsed and I thought he was lost, so I grabbed him and used the emergency
Portkey to get back to Headquarters, leaving Hermione, Robards, and Dawlish behind."

James sighed and shook his head. "I shouldn't have left them."

"You had to get Neville out of there," Lily countered. She turned to Hermione and said, "That's when she got her
injury. Dolohov hit her with a nasty curse. Robards and Dawlish ended up getting her back to Headquarters but
she—she was screaming in pain." Lily cut off and wiped away a few tears. "We all thought she was going to die.
Neville—who'd woken up by then—was beside himself with worry."

"He kept insisting we go to St. Mungo's, capture a Healer, and bring them back," James added. "But Kingsley
convinced him otherwise. All the Horcruxes were destroyed and Voldemort knew it. We were worried if we
waited too long, he'd go into hiding. We had to strike while we knew where he was."

"So, we spent the next day getting the message out to as many people as possible. We'd be attacking Voldemort's
stronghold at Hogwarts and if all went well, it would be the Final Battle," James said, his voice solemn.

"Wait," Harry cut in. "You left Hermione behind? She was in agony and you both went to fight in the battle?"

Lily gave James a dark smile. "Even this Harry's cross with us for that." She turned back to Harry and Hermione.
"We didn't leave her alone. Of course not. But we couldn't stay with her. We needed all the fighters we could
round up. We put her in a magical coma, to halt the spread of the curse, and left her with Ron and Molly
Weasley."

"Ron was there?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yeah. He didn't live at Headquarters, but when Hogwarts became too dangerous, he returned home and
popped by often to see you and Neville."

Hermione nodded. That solved the mystery of who she'd been sleeping with at Headquarters.

"Why did you send Harry away?" Harry asked. "He could have stayed with Ron, at the Burrow, or at
Headquarters with all of you."

James and Lily exchanged knowing looks. "Our Harry said the same thing," James said. "But you have to
understand, Lily and I were so well known by then, and very hated. He would have been in too much danger at
the Burrow. Molly and Arthur were Order members, but they didn't fight, so weren't as despised by the Death
Eaters. And Headquarters...that was out of the question."

"Why?" Harry challenged.

James gave Lily a wry smile. "Harry is a trouble-maker," Lily began to explain. "We were worried about what
sort of influence he'd have on Neville. He...how to explain…? Neville and Hermione were cautious, by nature,
and we could trust them to listen to the Order and work with us. Harry...he had a tendency to defy authority and
also thought he was invincible—which is a dangerous combination. And he had this ability to convince his
friends to do ridiculous things."

"It was his idea to go after the Sorcerer's Stone in his First Year," James continued, "instead of going for a
professor. He also wanted to try out the diary in Second Year, and had nearly convinced his friends to try it with
him, when Neville gave in at the last minute and involved Dumbledore. We were worried if he were at
Headquarters, he'd convince Neville and Hermione to go off alone, or that he'd try to sneak his way into missions,
and that was just too dangerous. Plus, we didn't need the distraction of having to keep an eye on him."

Harry slumped in his seat slightly. They were making it sound like he sought trouble out. But he'd never sought it
out, not in his world. It found him. James nudged his arm and gave him an almost proud smile.

Then, James explained the Final Battle. He said it was brutal, since someone had tipped Voldemort's side off, but
short. As soon as Neville found Voldemort, it was over. But it took him a while to find him. He'd hidden deep in
the forest and Neville had to break the wall he'd erected between their minds to find him. Even then, he only
managed to see flashes of the scene around Voldemort. Luckily, they had Hagrid, who knew the forest better than
anyone.

"We didn't see Neville kill him. He said there wasn't much fanfare. He had Harry's cloak and simply walked up to
him, invisible, and showed himself when he was standing just a few feet in front of him. Voldemort cast a Killing
Curse and Neville cast a Stunning Spell. Both spells met in the air and shot back at Voldemort, killing him
instantly. Hagrid carried his body out of the forest and that was the end."

Everyone was quiet again. "Who died?" Harry asked after a few moments.

James sighed before answering. "A few Aurors: Williamson and Newton. Andromeda Tonks and her husband,
Ted. Flitwick, several students—mostly underage ones who'd snuck into the battle." He sighed and looked at Lily.
"Am I missing anyone else?"

"Moody," she added in a soft voice.

James nodded sadly. "But I killed Dolohov," he said, looking at Hermione. "I never did find Lestrange, though.
He's still missing."

"And your rift with Harry. What was that about?" Harry asked.

James sighed again and dropped his eyes to the table. "What wasn't it about? He was angry with us for a hundred
things."

"Sending him away, not letting him join the Order, not telling him about Hermione being at Headquarters," Lily
began to list. "Though, to be fair, she kept that from him too. They were exchanging letters during that last year
and she kept telling him she was in hiding with her parents." Lily took a long breath and turned back to James.
"What else?"

"For letting her go on the mission. For leaving her behind when I took Neville back. For leaving her behind,
again, and going to fight in the battle..." James paused and exchanged a look with Lily. Before Harry could
decipher it, James ended with, "I think that was it."

Harry turned to look at Hermione, but she was focused on Lily and James. "And where was Harry?" she asked.

"Germany," Lily replied. "We sent him away with our friend Peter."

"Peter Pettigrew?!" Harry cried, recoiling at the sound of that name.

"What?" Lily asked, eyes wide with alarm. "You'll know him, of course. But—what's the problem?"
"Where is he now?!" Harry nearly shouted.

"He was killed by a group of Death Eaters shortly after he returned. It was a bit of a mystery, but you know
something. Tell me what it is," James demanded.

Harry shook his head and looked at Hermione, who looked like she was going to be sick.

"What do you know?" James pressed.

Harry got up and left the table. Hermione heard his footsteps on the stairs. She exhaled heavily as she turned back
to James and Lily. "I think we can give you some insight on what happened there but—uh—give us a few
minutes?"

James looked at Lily, who just shrugged. James turned back to Hermione and though he looked frustrated at being
ignored, nodded.

Hermione got up from the table and slowly made her way upstairs. She found Harry in their bedroom, pacing
quickly around the small space.

"They don't know," he said when he saw her. "They don't know he was a traitor and I—I have to be the one to tell
them. I bet he volunteered to take me out of the country—eager to get away. That coward. And my dad's going to
hate hearing about Sirius in Azkaban and Lupin—leaving his son behind with no parents. This—I don't want to
do this."

"I know."

"This trip was supposed to be about me learning about them. Not the other way around. How am I supposed to
explain it all? It's so...fucking different! Neville had help! How the fuck is that fair?!" His voice broke and he
stopped pacing. He braced his hands on the wall and dropped his head.

Hermione crossed the room and placed a hand on his back. "Harry, there's something you need to understand.
There is a different universe out there for every decision point in existence. From choosing to eat a different thing
for dinner to bigger decisions, like Voldemort choosing to kill Neville instead of you. Which means there are
other worlds where Dumbledore did include you in his plans. And there are probably others where Neville was
more alone.

"And in this world, in particular, all the circumstances were different. Neville had his Gran, he wasn't as isolated
as you throughout his childhood, which made him more prone to go to others for help, whereas you preferred to
keep things to yourself."

"What about that whole blending in the background thing?" Harry asked bitterly. "How the fuck did he get away
with that?"

"That's easily explained," Hermione said with a smile. "You're you and he's him."

Harry looked at her, bewildered.

"Neville's great, but he doesn't have your presence, Harry. You have this... quiet power... that draws people to you.
Even without being the Boy Who Lived, they said you were the leader. And we know from the photos you were
fairly popular. You're the type of person who is going to get noticed, scar or no scar."

Harry was quiet. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Harry, I know you don't want to tell your parents what happened, but we sort of owe them," Hermione said,
moving her hand to his arm. "And I think it will be cathartic for you to get it all out. Sort of like therapy."

Harry felt sick just thinking about it. But she was right. They'd ruined his parents' trip and stolen the other Harry
and Hermione's bodies. They owed them the truth, at least. When he looked up at Hermione, she was watching
him, her brown eyes warm. "I'm probably going to need your help," he whispered.
 Her face fell. "Oh, shoot."

"What?" he asked, standing up from the wall.

"I've reached my limit on how much I can help you. You're on your own for the rest of your life."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Since when are you sarcastic?"

"I think you're rubbing off on me."

Harry wrapped his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. As soon as he realized what he'd done, he
stepped away from her. "Sorry."

She smiled at him, then grabbed his chin and kissed his cheek. "Extenuating circumstances," she murmured. "Ron
and Ginny will understand."

Not if they knew about the heat pooling in Harry's lower abdomen, or about the way he'd started inhaling deeply
the few times she let him hug her, so he could enjoy her scent, or how he thought of their kiss from Venezuela
every night, before he fell asleep.

"Ready?" she asked, already standing in the doorway.

Harry tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts away. It wasn't time for that. He could worry about his unexpected
feelings for Hermione later. "No, but let's do this," he said as he followed her out of the room.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: We'll get a few more details from the AU as the story progresses (since Harry and Hermione can ask
questions freely now) but that was most of it. I hope you enjoyed it!
 Giant's Gulch, Part 5
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

When Harry and Hermione returned downstairs, they saw Lily and James had moved into the sitting room. They
were in the chairs opposite the couch, holding hands as they talked in low voices. They cut off when they saw
Harry and Hermione.

"We thought it would be more comfortable to sit in here," Lily said, sounding nervous. You have no idea what
you're in for, Hermione thought to herself.

"What do you know about Peter?" James asked as soon as Harry and Hermione touched the couch, before they'd
had a chance to settle into their seats.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"We'll get there," Hermione said. "But first…we should probably start at the beginning."

"Fine," James sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Lily placed a hand on James's forearm and said gently to Harry, "Go ahead."

Harry hesitated. After he opened and closed his mouth twice, Hermione began telling the story. "Voldemort went
to kill Harry that night in 1981, instead of Neville and as we explained earlier, because of a deal he'd made with
Snape, he had no intention of killing the Lily from our world. So, when she gave her life to protect her son, the
Sacrificial Magic went into effect and prevented Voldemort from killing him, making Harry the Boy Who Lived."

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was sitting still, focused on a blank spot on the wall. She looked back at Lily
and James before continuing. "He was taken from the scene of the crime by Hagrid and delivered to—"

"Muggles," Harry cut in.

"Muggles?" James asked. "Why not Sirius? He's your godfather. He should have taken care of you."

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but Harry beat her to it. "Sirius was... indisposed at the time." Harry
stopped to clear his throat. "We'll get there later in the story."

"O-kay," Lily said carefully. "But why Muggles? Surely there were other wizards who would have taken you in.
Remus, Peter, any of the Order members. Hell, you could have lived at Hogwarts. That would have been very
safe."

Harry bit his lip and looked down at the coffee table. "Dumbledore thought it best if I didn't know I was famous.
And he wanted to hide me. So, I was raised by Muggles and thought I was a Muggle until I was eleven, when I
got my acceptance letter for Hogwarts."

Lily and James looked upset. If they were upset now, they were going to be livid when they found out where
Sirius was. Harry could feel Hermione's eyes on him and turned to find her watching him sternly. She looked
personally offended that he was leaving out the bit about the Dursleys. She urged him with his eyes to tell them
the truth, but he ignored her. The story was going to be bad enough without that part.

He explained his first year, which wasn't much different from Neville's first year. Then they explained Second
Year, which elicited several outbursts from James at multiple points in the story.

"Shit! Hermione was Petrified?! And they kept the school open?!"

"An Acromantula and a Basilisk?! All in one school year?"

"You stabbed it with a fucking sword?! How are you still alive?"

Lily stayed quiet and when they reached the end of the story, asked calmly, "Why didn't you go to any of the
professors when you learned how to open the Chamber?!"

"We had a professor with us," Harry said defensively, looking just like a child who was being scolded by his
mother.

"Lockhart is a fraud. Everyone knows that. Even you knew it. You know what I mean," Lily countered.

Hermione was about to chime in and say she was with Lily, and had said the same thing when they woke her up,
but refrained.

"What did your adopted parents say?" Lily asked, then turned to Hermione. "And your parents?"

Now Hermione joined Harry in looking ashamed. "I never told them," Hermione admitted. "If I had, they
wouldn't have let me go back."

Harry just nodded in agreement, even though it wasn't true. He hadn't told the Dursleys, that part was true, but if
he had, he was sure they would have been even more eager to send them back to Hogwarts.

"Okay," Lily sighed. "How was your Third Year?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, a look of panic in his eyes. "Do you want me to do this one?" she asked.

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. "I'll do it."

"That bad?" Lily asked, looking worried.

Harry nodded.

"Worse than an Acromantula and Basilisk?" James asked, disbelieving.

Harry nodded again. He felt Hermione shift closer to him and he leaned into her warmth.

"The year started out pretty badly. A mass murderer had escaped from Azkaban and was coming for me,
apparently. They put dementors at the entrances of Hogwarts to catch him but sometimes they went loose, like on
the Hogwarts Express and once, at a Quidditch match."

"Why was a mass murderer after you?" James asked.

Harry sighed and focused on the surface of the coffee table. "He was believed to be one of Voldemort's followers.
Everyone thought he wanted to kill me to avenge his master's death, or something like that."

"Who was it?" Lily asked.

Harry sighed again, then looked up at his dad as he said, "Sirius Black."

Lily gasped. James's jaw tightened but otherwise, his expression remained impassive. "Sirius Black is not a
murderer," he said harshly. "Not in any world."

"I know. But we didn't know that at the time," Harry replied.

"So you're telling me Sirius was in Azkaban for—what was that—twelve years?" James asked. "That's why you
said he was 'indisposed?'"

Harry nodded.

"How is that possible? What crime was he accused of?"

"The story was—" Harry cut off and turned to Hermione. "Can you?"

She nodded. "The story was that Sirius was your Secret Keeper. You knew Voldemort was coming for you and set
up a Fidelius Charm around your house. So, after you died, everyone believed Sirius had betrayed you."

"He would never," James cut in.

"He didn't," Hermione confirmed. "This is just what everyone believed. The story was that Peter Pettigrew
confronted him, the day after you were killed. There was a fight and at the end, there was an explosion. Peter was
killed, along with a dozen Muggles, and Sirius was carted off to Azkaban."

"What actually happened?" James asked.

Harry liked how he didn't for a second believe his best friend was capable of that heinous crime. But what would
he think of Peter's deception?

Harry took up the story again. He talked through the highlights of the year: Receiving the Marauder's map as a
gift from the twins, the break-ins by Sirius, the dementors, then working with Lupin on Patronuses.

"Remus?" James asked.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "He was always Professor Lupin to us. He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts and was
brilliant."

"Dumbledore employed a werewolf? How did the board approve that?" James asked.

"They didn't know," Harry explained. "No one did, except Snape, because he made him his Wolfbane Potion, and
Hermione. She figured it out, of course." Harry turned to give her a small smile.

"This was the first time you met him?" James pressed. "Third Year?"

Before Harry could respond, Lily did. "Dumbledore hid Harry with Muggles, James. And Remus, he would have
been alone, with Sirius in Azkaban and Peter gone. I'm sure he was having a hard time."

James's brow furrowed as he considered her words. Eventually, he waved for Harry to continue.

Harry began to tell the complicated story of the night they learned the truth about Sirius. When he got to the part
about Peter, and how he was still alive and had been living as a rat for twelve years, James got up and disappeared
into the kitchen. Lily excused herself and went to follow him.

When James returned, he looked at Harry sharply and said, "You're an Auror. What do you think happened to
Peter in our time, given what you know of him from yours?"

"Er—my guess is in the first war, someone contacted him, either Death Eaters or Voldemort himself, and
pressured him to pass along information from your side. Before he could, the war ended. Then, well, that would
have picked up in the second war. Maybe he passed information, maybe he didn't. And when he saw an
opportunity to leave the country, he jumped on it. I'm guessing taking me away was in large part, his idea. But
when he was back, whichever Death Eaters he'd been working with would have been angry, so they killed him."

James exhaled heavily. "Yeah. That was my guess." He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into his eyelids,
wiping away a few tears, before looking back at Harry. "Okay. What happened next? You had Peter, so you could
clear Sirius's name."

Harry glossed over the next part, leaving out Snape's involvement, since his dad had enough reason to hate him.
He just mentioned Lupin transforming as they walked back to the castle and how in the chaos, Peter escaped.

"He just ran off?" Lily asked.

Harry nodded and looked down at his lap. "Sirius wanted to kill him but I—I stopped him. I thought—er—you
—" he looked up at James, "—wouldn't want your friends killing each other. So it's my fault he got away and he
ended up going straight to Voldemort and I—I think about that a lot. If that was the right decision."

"It was," James said quickly, "no question. I would have done the same." James gave him a small smile and a
tightness Harry had been carrying around in his heart for years was released.

Harry went on to explain the rest of the night and the trip Harry and Hermione took with the time turner to free
Sirius.

"Hang on," Lily said when he was finished. "You had a Time Turner at thirteen?" she asked Hermione.

"Fourteen," Hermione said. "I'm almost a year older than everyone."

"Fine," Lily said, clearly resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "So, Dumbledore sent you back in time, then
encouraged you to go onto the grounds where a werewolf was on the loose. And if that wasn't bad enough, you
were nearly Kissed by Dementors and the only thing that saved you was the fact that Harry was able to cast what
was probably the most powerful Patronus created in a hundred years. Am I getting that right?"

"Um, yeah?" Hermione said. "But it was the future Harry who made the Patronus. If he hadn't gone back with the
Time Turner, the past Harry and Sirius would have died. So, it had to happen."

"And Dumbledore never once thought, 'Maybe I should go with them? Or at least, send McGonagall.' He thought
you were perfectly capable, at thirteen and fourteen, of handling this trip alone?" Lily asked challengingly.

"There wasn't any time," Harry said defensively. "Fudge was about to instruct the Dementors to Kiss Sirius. And
Dumbledore was right. We did manage it."

"You were thirteen!" Lily cried. "You should have been in your dormitory playing Exploding Snap! Not on the
grounds battling werewolves, handling hippogriffs, and fighting off dementors!"

"Lily…" James said calmly, placing a hand on her arm. "I was battling werewolves at thirteen."

Lily finally let out the eye roll she'd been holding in. "Don't get me started on that."

James nodded for Harry to continue.

"Er—so, that was the end of Third Year. Sirius was on the run, Peter was going back to help Voldemort, and
Lupin was fired."

"He was fired?" James asked. "Why? Surely he didn't hurt anyone that night."

"He didn't," Harry said. "But, er, Snape let slip he was a werewolf."

"Of course he did," James growled. "How prominently is that git going to feature in the rest of your story?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Um, pretty prominently."

"Great," James said sardonically.

Harry explained his Fourth Year next. When he got through the description of the Second Task, Lily interrupted
him. "Where was the Order?"

"They didn't get together until the following Summer."

"So the only person helping you through these tasks was Moody, who was actually an imposter? Where was
Dumbledore?! Eating biscuits and tea in his office?" she cried.

"With Snivellus," James murmured.

Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she seemed at a loss too. Lily just sighed and told them to continue with
the story.
Harry explained the last task, then the graveyard, only leaving out the part where he saw his parents come out of
his wand. He told them about how Moody tried to take him when he returned to Hogwarts, but was thwarted just
in time. When he finished the story, Lily had tears in her eyes.

She leaned forward and said gently, "When you were fourteen, you were taken against your will to a graveyard,
where you were forced to watch foul Dark Magic. No, not just watch, you had to participate in the ceremony—
with Peter, of all people. Then you watched Voldemort regain his body, you watched him call his followers, and
you battled him."

Harry nodded. Unsure what else to say. Those were the facts.

"But he escaped," Hermione chimed in. "He made it out and he even managed to bring back Cedric's body."

"Right. I forgot to add, 'watched a classmate die' to my list," Lily said sardonically. She dropped her head in her
hands and rubbed her temples, looking down as she said, "Tell me, Harry. Does this story get worse?"

"Yeah," he said honestly.

She sighed, then rose from her chair. "Then I need a break. Tea, anyone?"

Everyone nodded silently. Lily crossed the room to where Harry was sitting, placed a hand on his shoulder, then
leaned in and kissed his cheek before going to the kitchen.

"She's right," James said when she was gone. "It's appalling how few people stopped to help you. We're not trying
to diminish what you managed on your own, really, just—we wish you had more help."

"Yeah," Harry said, forcing the word through the lump in his throat. "I wish I had more help, too."

James just looked at him sadly while Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. Harry turned and whispered in
her ear, "I'm going to need you to do the next one."

"Of course," she whispered back, her hair tickling his neck as she nodded her head.

After Lily returned and they each had a chance to take a few sips of tea, Hermione announced that she was
covering the next year. She was generous with her description of Harry's emotional and mental struggles. She also
left out the entire Umbridge ordeal and his hearing at the Ministry, which he appreciated. His parents were upset
enough as it was.

She explained what happened with Arthur, took a brief detour in the story to tell James and Lily what had
happened to Frank and Alice—which made James swear and Lily gasp)—then when she got to the part about
Harry starting up Occlumency lessons, she paused.

Hermione sipped her tea again, then averted her eyes as she said, "So Harry started Occlumency lessons with
Snape."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" James asked, eyes snapping to Harry.

"I wish," Harry sighed.

"What did Sirius say?" James pressed.

"He was upset," Hermione replied, "but he knew it was important for Harry to learn to shield his mind."

"Why didn't Dumbledore teach you? Or Kingsley?"

"Dumbledore was busy and Kingsley wasn't at Hogwarts. Snape was," Hermione countered.

"Apparating to Hogsmeade and walking into the castle takes ten minutes," James retorted.
Hermione backtracked and described what was going on with the Ministry and Umbridge, since it explained why
Dumbledore wasn't in a position to bring Aurors to school, since he himself was kicked out mid-year. Harry
rubbed the back of his hand as she told the story and was glad when she left out the part about how he received
those scars. She did include the DA, though, which earned Harry a proud smile from both his parents.

"Then, Harry had another vision."

Hermione stopped and looked at Harry, who was blinking fast to keep tears from falling.

"What happened?" Lily asked in a way that made it sound like she didn't want to know.

Hermione told the story of what happened at the Ministry quickly, using as few words as possible and clutching
Harry's hand tightly the whole time. When she was finished, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

"It wasn't Harry's fault," Hermione said. "The vision looked real—just like the one with Arthur—and we checked
it! We Floo-called Grimmauld Place and everything."

"I was just trying to save him," Harry added, keeping his eyes down, unable to meet James's gaze.

James got up and went to sit on the coffee table in front of Harry. He placed a hand on his shoulder and waited for
Harry to look up before speaking. He didn't look angry, or even disappointed. Just sad.

"It definitely wasn't your fault, Harry. It was Snape's fault for ending your lessons, Dumbledore's for ignoring you
all year, and every other adult in your life who failed to advocate for you—including Sirius and Remus. What
the fuck were they doing this whole time?" he ended, saying the last statement more to himself than to Harry.

Harry felt the need to defend them. "Lupin was having a really hard time. He couldn't get a job and Dumbledore
was making him seek out other werewolves—which he hated. And Sirius—he was just a shadow of himself.
After Azkaban and—and—losing his best friend, being forced to stay locked up… He was trying his best."

James sighed and his eyes were wet as he said, "Yeah, I figured it was something like that. Because the Sirius I
knew would have never allowed you to feel so...lonely."

Harry dropped his head again. So, he'd noticed that? Even with Hermione telling the story, he'd picked up the
undercurrent of Harry's ostracism and isolation that year. James gave Harry's shoulder a final pat before returning
to his seat.

"Shall we take another break?" James asked, eying Harry warily.

Harry shook his head. "Let's just finish this. That brings us to Sixth Year. Everyone knew Voldemort was back
and Voldemort had blocked that passage between our minds, so I started training with Dumbledore. But—er—we
didn't get through as many Horcruxes as he and Neville did before he died."

"How many?" James asked.

"Two. The diary and the ring."

"That's nothing."

"I know." Harry skipped over most of the details from Sixth Year, eager to get to the end of the story, and began
explaining the night he visited the cave with Dumbledore. When he reached the part where they saw the Dark
Mark hovering in the sky above Hogwarts, Harry had to stop.

"Oh no!" Lily gasped. "What happened? Did Death Eaters infiltrate the castle?"

Harry nodded. He gave Hermione a quick look, and she picked up the story. "Dumbledore and Harry borrowed
broomsticks from Madam Rosmerta and flew to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore told Harry to hide
under his Invisibility Cloak and when someone approached, he Petrified Harry so he couldn't get involved in the
standoff. And—um—Dumbledore ended up being killed by Snape that night."
"What?!" Lily said while James said, "That fucking bastard. So he wasn't on your side."

"He was," Hermione said. "Dumbledore was cursed by the ring in our world, just as he was in yours. But Snape
was able to contain the curse for a year. They knew he was dying and planned out his death like this, to solidify
Snape's position as a spy. But no one knew that's what was going on, so when he killed Dumbledore, we all
thought he'd betrayed us."

James took his glasses off and began rubbing his face with his palms. "So Dumbledore was dead, Sirius was dead,
and you'd only managed to destroy two Horcruxes?"

"Yes," Harry said.

"Who was running the Order?"

"Moody," Harry replied, "but not for much longer. He died a few months later, while trying to transport me to a
safe house." He turned to Hermione. "Who took over after that?"

She shrugged. "Kingsley?"

"How do you not know?" James pressed.

"We weren't with the Order," Hermione explained. "We went off on our own to hunt Horcruxes. Um, me, Harry,
and Ron."

"What?!" James exclaimed. "Why?"

"Dumbledore told me to keep the Horcruxes a secret," Harry said.

"So?! Dumbledore was dead!" Lily countered.

Harry shrugged. "Snape was a traitor and everyone I trusted was dead. Going off on our own seemed like the best
option at the time."

"What about Remus? Where was he?" James asked.

"Oh. Er—he tried to help, but I sent him away. Mainly because he was just doing it to avoid his son. Or, um,
unborn son."

"He had a son?"

Harry nodded. "With Tonks. But they both, er, didn't make it. So Teddy's an orphan today."

"Andromeda is raising him," Hermione added, "and Harry's his godfather. He's brilliant at it. Teddy adores him."
Harry blushed slightly.

James just shook his head. "Okay—that's, uh, a lot." He got up and paced the room several times before settling
back in his seat. Lily grabbed his hand and James gave her a devastated look. He'd mostly managed to wipe it
from his face when he asked, "So, you three went off alone and that...worked?"

"Kind of," Harry said. He explained their Horcrux hunt quickly, beginning with the Ministry break-in. He told
about how Ron left and how they had no idea what to do, then how they decided to go to Godric's Hollow and
what happened there. When he reached the part about seeing a doe Patronus in the woods, Lily cut in.

"My Patronus?! What was it doing there? Was the other Lily sending you a message beyond the grave?"

"Oh, er, no," Harry said. Looking away from his parents awkwardly.

"Isn't it obvious?" James asked. "It was Snape, wasn't it?" He directed his question at Harry.

"Yeah," Harry said. His mum looked uncomfortable, but remained quiet.
Harry explained how he got the sword, how Ron returned, and how Ron destroyed the Horcrux, leaving out the
part about how the necklace fought back, which was something Hermione didn't even know. He felt sick as he
remembered what the Horcrux made Ron see. His worst fear: Harry and Hermione snogging. And then Harry had
reassured him that he only ever saw Hermione like a sister, which wasn't true then and sure as hell wasn't true
now.

"Um, next…" he continued, his voice shaking.

"I can take it up," Hermione said, and proceeded to very matter-of-factly describe their capture by the Snatchers,
her torture, their escape, and their trip to Gringotts.

"This can't be real," Lily said in awe after Hermione finished describing their escape on the dragon. "Breaking
into the Ministry, the run-in with Nagini, escaping from Malfoy Manor, of all places, then breaking into Gringotts
by impersonating Bellatrix?"

"Don't forget escaping on a dragon," James added. "That's the best part."

"We have the memories to back it up," Hermione said. "Though, I wouldn't advise viewing the Bathilda Bagshot
one."

"No kidding," Harry said darkly. "It'll give you nightmares for months."

"Years," Hermione countered.

"Perhaps the rest of your life." They exchanged a smile while James and Lily watched, horrified, clearly not
amused by the dark joke.

"Er, anyway," Harry continued. "That brings us to the last two Horcruxes: the diadem and the snake."

He explained how they broke into Hogwarts, found and destroyed the diadem and the cup, and then how the
Battle broke out. He told them about Snape and what he saw in his memories, leaving out the details about Snape
growing up with his mum, since she'd already know those, and then how Harry learned what he had to do to
defeat Voldemort.

He was about to describe what happened in the forest when his mum cut in. "Are you about to tell me that you
walked to your death, all alone?" she asked, her voice tear laden.

"I wasn't alone," Harry countered. "I had the stone. I used it during that walk and I saw my parents and Sirius and
Lupin. They were with me," he finished, his voice breaking at the end.

Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist as Lily rose and disappeared into the kitchen. James gave them a
curt nod before disappearing after her.

"I told you he was manipulative," they heard Lily say. "I knew this is what he had planned for Neville!"

"He was playing a very complicated game of chess, even more so in this other world. He had so many less
players to work with," James replied calmly.

"You always defend him!" Lily bit back. "I'm glad he didn't get his way in this world. Augusta would have
skinned him alive. But that Harry didn't have an Augusta. He didn't have us, his Muggle parents were oblivious,
Sirius was gone, Remus was a mess, and Peter—don't even get me started on that."

"This isn't our world," James replied. "This is a dystopia of some sort. It's not real, Lily."

"It's real to them! And I know this isn't our world but I—I can't even stand that somewhere out there, this world
exists."

"So, it was as bad as I thought," Harry murmured to Hermione. "It's nice to have confirmation."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "But they're forgetting that I wasn't completely alone," he added. "I had you."
She smiled. "You still do."

"I'm sorry," Lily said when she returned a few moments later, patting her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's a lot to
take in."

"Yeah," Harry sighed.

"We were at the part where Voldemort was about to kill you," Lily said, her voice catching in her throat.

"Yeah. And he did, sort of." Harry explained the rest of the story quickly, glad to finally be at the end. He was
completely spent and thought he could sleep for a solid day.

"So you survived the Killing Curse twice," Lily said.

"Thanks to the other version of my mum," Harry replied, his voice uneven.

Lily nodded, then rose from her seat and went to stand next to Harry. She motioned for Harry to stand up and
when he did, pulled him into a hug. "I know I'm not technically your mother," she said as she leaned back to look
at him, "but twenty years ago she and I were the same person, so I can confidently say that she is so unbelievably
proud of you—" she paused to take his face in her hands, "—and also, desperately sorry she wasn't there and for
all you had to endure in her absence."

A few tears escaped Harry's eyes. Lily wiped them away before hugging him again.

James was next and pulled Harry into an almost bone-breaking hug, but Harry loved it.

Meanwhile, Lily folded herself around Hermione and said into her ear, "I have no words for you—just, thank
you, thank you, thank you, for staying by his side."

"I'm sorry we were so harsh with you earlier," James was saying to Harry. He'd stepped back, but still had his
hands on Harry's shoulders. "I guess I see where those fighting skills came from. You've been fighting your whole
life, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Harry choked out.

There was another round of hugs, then Hermione found herself in the crook of Harry's arm. She wrapped both
arms around his middle before turning her head toward James and Lily, who were also clinging to each other for
comfort.

"That was a lot," James declared.

Everyone nodded.

"I'm not sure where we go from here," he added.

"We have another day at Giant's Gulch, to see the West side of the sanctuary. I propose we do that tomorrow, then
move on to the next Wonder," Hermione said.

"Trust Hermione to have a plan—in any world," James quipped.

Everyone agreed it was as good a plan as any, then there was a last round of hugs before James and Lily went
upstairs.

"Holy shit," Harry said when he and Hermione were alone. He wrapped his arms around her and propped his chin
on her head. "That was the worst."

"Yeah."

"That's what therapy's like?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"It's awful. I can't believe people pay money for that."

"Maybe you'll feel better in the morning," she suggested.

"I hope so. I can't see going anywhere from here but up."

Hermione stepped away from him, then grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. "Let's go to bed."

Harry's mood deteriorated quickly from there. He was quiet as he changed behind a screen in the bedroom, put
his glasses on the bedside table, and climbed into bed. Once there, he turned away from Hermione and put the
lights out with a silent spell.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively, turning to face him in the dark.

"I don't want to talk," he replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "All talked out, thanks."

"Yeah, I gathered that," she whispered back. "I just—um—wanted you to know that I'm here and that I know how
you're feeling. You worked so hard with that crappy hand you were dealt and you did it—in the end. You won and
also managed to come out of the whole ordeal with your heart and soul intact. Then tonight, you learned of
another way it could have happened, an easier way and—I'm sorry for that. I know you don't want to talk but
thought—I don't know—that you might be content to just—breathe next to someone else who knows. You're not
alone, Harry. It's not just you, even though I know it feels that way sometimes."

He took a few steadying breaths, then turned onto his back. He held his arm out and wondered if she'd come to
him. He didn't have to wonder for long, she was there the next moment, snuggled into the crook of his arm. He
wrapped his arm around her to keep her in place. Harry felt immediately calmer as the torrent of thoughts in his
head began to settle—replaced by thoughts of her. How solid and warm she was, how right this felt. He took in a
deep inhale and smelled her floral shampoo.

"Breathe next to someone else who knows."

How did she know that's exactly what he needed? If he were with Ginny tonight, she'd probably force out an "I'm
sorry," then try to distract him with sex. It wasn't a completely ineffective way to cheer him up, but he needed
something more. He needed this. Her.

"Hermione." The word broke on its way out of his mouth. He took a breath and tried again. "Hermione. Thank
you. For what—exactly—I can't even begin to list. We would be up all night if I tried, and we're both already
knackered."

His brain began developing the list anyway. For every time you were there with me. For every time you held my
hand at the exact moment I needed it tonight. For forcing me to talk to my parents, then filling in for me when I
couldn't.

"Maybe you can write it all out tomorrow, when we're both better rested," she teased.

For making that joke, right then, he added to his mental list.

Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead. And because he was exhausted and feeling broken. And because it
was dark and she'd come into his arms on her own, without hesitation, he let himself say aloud the thought that
had been at the top of his mind for the past few days.

"What am I going to do without you when we're back?"

She stiffened in his arms but didn't move away. Instead, she burrowed her head further into his chest. She knew
better than to protest and say that he'd never be without her, that she'd always be there as his friend. That wasn't
 what he meant. He wasn't looking for empty words, but a real response. But she didn't have one for him and said
simply, "I don't know."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I know a lot of this was a repeat of the books all of us have read, but I couldn't think of another way to
tell this part of the story without laying it all out again. So thanks for bearing with me. I'm pretty much with
Lily this whole chapter. You can read her dialogue as self-inserts. Where were the adults?! Oh well… it all
worked out in the end...mostly.

Thank you to @quinsomnia for the gorgeous art that perfectly illustrates this last scene!
 Giant's Gulch, Part 6
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Day Ten

"Okay, here come two of them, side-by-side!" James said, shouting to be heard over the sound of hooves storming
against the ground.

"Ready?" Harry called.

James nodded and they both ran full-force at the two erumpents, who were charging shoulder-to-shoulder through
the large clearing. Harry ran for the farthest erumpent, tossed the rope he was holding around the large horn at the
center, and tried to jump onto the creature's back. He made it onto the large back, using a small boost of wandless
magic to float himself up into the air, but the rope had failed to loop around the erumpent's horn, leaving Harry
nothing to hang onto. He slipped a few moments later as the animal charged on.

As Harry brushed red dust off his clothes, he watched his dad. He'd managed to get his rope around the
erumpent's horn and was whooping as his erumpent took him to the edge of the clearing. When the erumpent
stopped to get a drink of water, James slid down his side and began making his way back, the rope draped around
the back of his neck.

A large hand pulled Harry up by his shoulder. Harry felt the air around him vibrate with the low laughter of the
giant next to him. "That one was bigger than the others!" Harry said defensively. The giant just kept laughing.

After Harry and James explained to the giant at the entrance this morning that they were the ones who
apprehended the criminals the day before, the giant called for one of his friends and insisted he give their group a
special tour of the area. Morad, their guide (and the giant who was currently laughing at Harry) had introduced
them to this erumpent game, which was surprisingly fun.

Harry liked the blend of skill and fitness required. He had to run full-out to catch up with the erumpent, have
enough finesse to lock the rope on the erumpent's horn, use a burst of magic to get up onto the creature's back,
then try to hang on as it ran at full speed, which was sort of like riding a very large, unruly broom. Harry and his
dad had added a layer of competition to the sport, which made it even more fun.

Needless to say, it was a very good day. There was a lot of laughing and bonding with his dad, which was just
what Harry needed after the heaviness of the night before.

Harry looked over at the witches, who were across the clearing, sitting near a pond as they fed a host of colorful
birds, using a special type of seed Morad had given them. Harry squinted, holding his hand up to block the sun,
and saw that his mum was waving at him.

Hermione, however, was pointedly looking away from him, pretending to be extremely focused on the small bird
in her hand. Or maybe she wasn't pretending and he was just projecting his own insecurities. He waved back at
his mum and still, Hermione kept her gaze forward. Harry sighed. He didn't know what to think about Hermione
anymore.

The night before, after he'd held her in his arms for a few minutes, stroking her hair and listening to the sound of
her breathing, he forced himself to let go of her. But she didn't move back to her side of the bed. Instead, she
clung harder to him. They fell asleep like that and this morning, he'd awoken in a mess of curls and tangled limbs.
Hermione had jumped out of the bed, moving faster than Teddy when Harry announced it was time for a bath,
and blushed profusely. She mumbled something about how it was wrong and how they could never do it again
before disappearing into the shower, while Harry's mind had been screaming at him, "That's Ron's fiancée! What
the fuck are you doing?!"

They needed to address what was going on between them before something serious happened. Things were just
getting worse. Harry was worried that if they kept trying to pretend nothing was happening, they'd end up in the
same, or perhaps an even more compromising position, the next morning.

Hermione was usually the first person to confront things like this. She was blunt and direct, something Harry had
always liked about her. But this time, she was determined to ignore it. And it was also very un-Hermione-like to
say one thing and do another. She was the most disciplined person Harry knew but this time, she didn't seem able
to keep herself away from Harry—a feeling he understood.

He took all this to mean she was as caught off guard by the whole thing as he was and that her feelings were just
as unexpectedly intense as his. But could one fall for someone that hard in just a week? Probably not. But it was
possible for a person to slowly fall for someone over the course of ten years, hide it from themself, then have the
truth of those mounting feelings hit them like a train when it was finally discovered.

But...what now? Was he going to go back and tell Ron and Ginny that in what felt like a blink of an eye for them,
he and Hermione had gone on a two-week trip with his parents and realized they liked each other? Would
Hermione even go for that? What would happen then? They'd have to cancel their weddings, Ron would abandon
Harry and Hermione again, probably for good this time. Ginny would never speak to them again and the rest of
the Weasleys would support Ron and Ginny.

And just like that, he and Hermione would be alone. Maybe some of their friends would understand and stick
around, like Luna and Neville, but that would be it. And what if Harry fucked it up? He wasn't the best at
relationships. If Hermione left, then...it would be just him. That familiar dark, utter feeling of loneliness
threatened to consume him just at the thought of it. Even out here, in this sunny clearing, he felt cold and
instinctively wrapped his arms around himself.

The whole thing terrified him if he thought about it for too long. But this just further proved that the feelings he
experienced in this body were his own, not the other Harry's. Harry hadn't experienced any emotions on this trip
that felt foreign to him. Why would his attraction to Hermione be any different? He was sure it would carry over
in their world when he was back in his own body.

Harry also knew that when he was back home, and trying to work through the new round of grief that would
come over him once he lost this version of his parents, that there was only one witch he wanted at his side.

His thoughts were interrupted by the reappearance of his dad. James clapped him on the shoulder. "Better luck
next time."

"I'd like to remind you that I won the first two rounds," Harry said. He plastered a smile on his face before he
turned to face James, who was wiping the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his arm.

"Of course you did. You're younger. But I'm finally getting the hang of it… and you're getting tired. Aren't Aurors
supposed to be in better shape than this?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, next question," James said as they walked back to the top of the clearing, where Morad was corralling a
few more erumpents for them. "What did you do for your last birthday?"

James had been asking Harry questions like this all day. What his favorite sweet was, his favorite subject in
school, and countless details about his Quidditch matches. James had been horrified to learn how many times the
Quidditch season had been canceled and that when Gryffindor had won the cup in Harry's Fifth and Sixth Year,
he'd been banned from playing in the final matches.
It was nice, having James indignant on Harry's behalf, but even better than that was how James wanted
to know him. He wasn't his son, but that didn't keep James from asking these questions with what seemed like
sincere interest.

Harry stopped walking as he tried to recall his last birthday, which was only a few weeks ago. The time before
this trip felt like ages ago, but Harry tried not to think about time as much as he could. How it was passing and
how in just a few days, he'd have to say goodbye.

"I had work that day but got a break to go to lunch with Hermione and Ron in Diagon Alley. Then that night,
there was a small party at the Burrow. With cake and a game of Quidditch, of course."

James nodded approvingly.

"What about you?" Harry asked. "What did you do for your last birthday?"

James rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "Oh, I dragged your mum to a Quidditch match. Tornadoes
versus Harpies."

Harry's stomach flipped at the mention of Ginny's team. "Who won?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Harpies. It was close, though."

Harry hummed. "Does Ginny Weasley play on that team? In our world, she's a Chaser for the Harpies."

James furrowed his brow as he nodded slowly. "Yeah...she does. Or, did. She plays internationally now. She's
pretty good. I'm guessing you played with her in school?"

Played with her...dated her...lost my virginity to her...proposed to her… "Er—yeah."

James simply nodded. Harry should tell him the truth about Ginny. There was no reason for him and Hermione to
keep pretending to be engaged. But something made him hold back. It was big news and he couldn't just drop it
on James in the middle of erumpent wrangling. Maybe later, when the group was together again.

"What's wrong?" James asked when they were just a few paces away from the edge of the clearing. Harry's mind
cast about for something to say and landed on a topic that had been bothering him earlier.

"I—er—have a question."

"Do I think you can win this round?" James joked. "No."

"Oh—er—no."

James nudged him in the side. "What is it?"

Harry was suddenly very nervous and considered just telling him about Ginny, but managed to force out his
question in the end. "Is it okay if I keep calling you dad? I know I'm not your son but—er—it feels weird to call
you James."

James gave him a sad smile as he reached out and gripped his shoulder. "The way I see it, you're not my son, but
I am your father - just...older. So, why wouldn't you call me dad?"

Harry felt tears well in his eyes and started blinking quickly. "Okay. Yeah. Makes sense, um, dad," Harry replied,
testing the word for the first time since James had learned the truth about who he was.

James wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and they walked the last few steps in easy silence. When they
reached the edge of the clearing, James turned to Harry and said with a grin, "I've revised my earlier statement.
You are my son. Just—another version. So tell me, son, ready for another go?"
"Boys," Lily said with a smile as she and Hermione watched Morad pick Harry up off the ground. "They'll make
a sport out of anything."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. She watched Harry brush himself off and when he turned toward them, she became
very focused on the small red bird in her hand.

She saw Lily wave to Harry out of her periphery, then Lily laid back on her hands and asked, "Is he terribly
famous in your world?"

Hermione nodded, keeping her eyes on the bird. "He hates it."

"Hmm. So does Neville." Lily turned to face Hermione, pulling her legs up under her, and Hermione drew her
eyes away from the bird. "You must be famous, too. In this world, no one outside the Order knew of Hermione's
contributions. But they'd know, in your world."

Hermione nodded again. "Harry, Ron, and I are all famous. They call us 'The Golden Trio.'"

"Ew."

Hermione let out a laugh. "I know."

"I'm sorry about that. It makes enjoying the peace after the war a bit harder, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

Lily turned her head back to Harry, who was walking with James to the edge of the clearing. "He looks more
relaxed than he has the whole trip," Lily said. "It makes sense, since he was hiding something so big. It must be a
big relief for him."

"Sorry," Hermione said, moving her fingers through the pile of birdseed in front of her.

"Don't be sorry. Given what you two went through, it's understandable that you'd be distrusting of the world
around you."

Hermione just shrugged. She'd never thought of it like that, but she was like that, wasn't she? Distrusting of new
people and places. She could only count on a handful of people in her life and even then, she wasn't always sure.

"Did you and Harry have a childhood, Hermione?" Lily asked gently. "You were forced to grow up so quickly but
—in between it all—were you allowed to be kids? Did you nick sweets from the kitchen, enjoy Hogsmeade
weekends, obsess over crushes, have snowball fights, land yourself in detention one or two times, and simply…
you know… have fun?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, Lily. We were kids. We used the map and cloak more than we should have to visit the
kitchens and Hagrid's hut. We all had crushes and Ron even got into an incident with a Love Potion that was
meant for Harry. We had plenty of snowball fights, spent countless nights laughing and playing games in the
Common Room, and detention… Well, I only ever had one but Harry… he had more like one or two per year."

Lily let out a small laugh. "That's light, compared to James."

"Yeah. We heard about James and Sirius. They were a bit of a legend."

James and Harry were having what looked like a serious talk, then James wrapped his arm around Harry's
shoulders. Hermione's heart swelled for Harry. She was glad he was allowed to be himself around his parents
now. Lily had asked her something else, but Hermione missed it. She focused back on Lily and asked her to
repeat the question.

"How many of Harry's detentions were from Severus?"

"Oh." Hermione stopped to take a deep breath. She'd sort of been waiting for Lily to bring Snape up but now that
she'd done it, Hermione didn't feel ready. "Probably half."
"Were they deserved?"

"Only one," Hermione replied, thinking of the time Harry hit Malfoy with Sectumsempra and hoping Lily
wouldn't ask her about it.

Lily hummed. "What was he like?"

"Oh...uh…"

"That bad?"

"Yeah," Hermione said honestly. "He was angry all the time and...well...he was brilliant, clearly, but didn't seem
to have the patience for teaching. He was terrible to everyone who wasn't in Slytherin and...I don't know. It's safe
to say he wasn't anyone's favorite professor, except maybe Draco Malfoy."

Lily frowned. "And how was he with Harry?"

Hermione suspected Lily already knew the answer to this question. "He treated Harry worse than anyone. At first,
before we learned of the rivalry between James and Snape in school, I couldn't make any sense of it. But it makes
sense now. He saw James every time he looked at Harry."

"That's disappointing," Lily replied, her voice uneven. She began moving her hands through the pile of seed, like
Hermione had been doing earlier.

"Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Did you know he felt that way about you?"

Lily nodded, keeping her head down. "I didn't know his Patronus had changed, but I knew he loved me. Though I
thought he loved the Dark Arts more."

Hermione stayed quiet. She didn't have any follow-up questions, but Lily wasn't finished talking.

"It makes sense, that he felt that way. I was the first person in his life who was ever kind to him."

"I think it was more than that, Lily. You're beautiful, powerful, and brilliant. Also, unbelievably kind and caring. I
think maybe he loved you for all that."

Lily pressed her palms to her cheeks. "You're making me blush."

Hermione just smiled at her.

When Lily dropped her hands from her face, she looked back at James, who was riding one of the erumpents next
to Harry and said sadly, "I never felt the same toward Severus and I always felt a little bad about it. Unrequited
love is terribly painful. I can't imagine what it would feel like if James didn't love me back."

Hermione was glad Lily was looking away, since she'd momentarily forgotten how to breathe. Her eyes flashed to
Harry, unbidden, and the tightness in her chest intensified. She picked up a handful of birdseed and tossed it in
front of her, enticing a few more birds out of the tree in front of them.

"Severus had a hard upbringing," Lily continued, playing with the pile of seed again. "His father was awful and
—" she sighed, "—I don't know if he ever felt truly accepted. It's difficult to come out of that sort of childhood
intact. He could have been great. He had a good heart. But unfortunately, he went looking for love and acceptance
in the wrong place. James never understood that—still doesn't. He's been loved his whole life. His parents adored
him—everyone at school adored him. I was the only one who ever made him work for it."

She paused as a smile touched her features. "But you and I know what it's like," she said, her green eyes snapping
up to meet Hermione's. "We're Muggleborns. We know how hard it is to fight for acceptance."
Hermione nodded as she remembered those first few years at Hogwarts, when she'd been convinced if she wasn't
the best, they'd change their mind about her and send her back to the Muggle world, claiming they'd made some
sort of mistake.

"Harry… my Harry… is more like James. But this Harry...he longs for acceptance. He's more like us and Severus,
isn't he?"

Tears stung Hermione's eyes. She nodded, at a loss for anything else to say. Lily had perfectly summed up why
Hermione had always felt closest to Harry, more so than Ron, even.

They both looked over at James and Harry who were pulling their shirts off, about to jump into the lake at the end
of the clearing, where the erumpents had stopped to drink. Hermione didn't blame them for wanting a break.
Jumping on top of those giant beasts over and over again looked exhausting.

"We tried to get Neville to move into Headquarters right after Dumbledore died," Lily announced, seemingly out
of nowhere.

"Yeah?" Hermione said politely.

"We couldn't move him until he came of age, however. Dumbledore had set up a protection over Augusta's home.
It was linked to the Sacrificial Magic."

"Oh," Hermione said, swallowing hard. She knew where Lily was going with this.

"Since the magic was linked to Frank's blood, it was present, to some extent, in Augusta. And as long as Neville
called her house home, Voldemort couldn't touch him while he was there. We didn't move Neville until after he
came of age and that protection broke, since nothing we could come up with was as powerful as that."

"Huh," was all Hermione said.

"I wonder…" Lily continued, "if the same spell would have occurred to Dumbledore in your world." She was
watching Hermione intently now. "I wonder if Dumbledore would have sought out my only living relative, my
Muggle sister, and asked her to take Harry in. And I wonder if the obvious reticence Harry displayed last night
while talking about his Muggle family was because he didn't want to trouble me with the fact that he was raised
by my horrid sister and her even worse husband."

Hermione took in a shaky breath. "That's one theory."

"Hermione," she said sternly.

Hermione averted her eyes, but Lily already had the truth. "How bad?" Lily asked in a whisper. There were
already tears streaming down her face, and she didn't even know half of it.

Hermione stayed quiet and moved her eyes back to Harry and James, who were laughing as they took turns
jumping into the lake.

"We see them once a year," Lily said softly, "on the anniversary of my parents' death. We meet at the graveyard,
then go to my sister's house for lunch. One time, when Harry and my sister's son were around five, Vernon
grabbed his son by the neck and nearly threw him out of the room for—I don't remember—something stupid."

Hermione wiped away a few tears that had fallen onto her cheeks.

"Another time, the boys were around thirteen and Dudley had started attending this school that gave him a cane.
He spoke out of turn over lunch and Vernon wrapped him with the cane, leaving a large welt on his leg. This was
a boy Vernon was obsessed with, who was spoiled beyond belief. I hate to imagine how he'd treat a boy who—"
her voice broke and she paused to wipe away her tears, "—a boy he considered a freak. A boy he never wanted. I
hate to imagine it, but that's what I spent all last night doing, when I realized which Muggles Harry had likely
grown up with."
Lily looked at Hermione expectantly, tears streaming down her face now. Hermione was struggling to keep her
own tears at bay. "It's not my story to tell, Lily," Hermione whispered.

Lily sniffed, then straightened as she wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I have to know. So you can tell
me about it, or I can ask him." She cocked her head toward the lake. "And I'm sure you can guess which will be
more painful for Harry."

Hermione scowled at her. "You're very manipulative."

Lily just shrugged. "I can be. Now tell me."

Hermione sort of wanted to hex Lily, but she also understood. If Lily knew something like this about Harry that
Hermione didn't know, she'd try anything to get the information out of her, always believing that knowing
something, no matter how bad, was better than not knowing. Hermione pulled her knees up and rested her chin on
them. "I don't know much, Lily. He doesn't talk about it."

"Tell me what you do know." She was glaring at Hermione with that determined stare Hermione knew so well.
The one she'd never figured out how to say no to.

Hermione sighed and looked toward the trees as she talked. She told Lily the little she knew. About the cupboard
under the stairs and how Harry had lived there until he was eleven, with only spiders for friends. How he told her
once, while they were watching Teddy and were supposed to be letting him cry himself to sleep, that he'd
promised himself when he was young that he'd never ignore a crying child, as his aunt and uncle had.

Hermione told Lily how thin Harry was at the end of every summer and awful his Muggle clothes were. How he'd
joked about getting hit on the head with frying pans for messing up in the kitchen and about how he'd developed
fast reflexes early in life, thanks in large part to his uncle, which went on to serve him well in Quidditch."

"Stop," Lily said.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. Lily looked like she'd been hit with ten Cruciatus Curses. She pulled her knees
up, matching Hermione's pose, and began sobbing into her legs. Hermione placed a hand on her shoulder, unsure
what else to do.

After a few moments, Lily looked up, her eyes defiant, and said, "Tell me the rest."

Hermione shook her head. "Lily. What is this helping?"

"I want to know him and this is part of it. Tell me."

Hermione bit her lip. She couldn't fault Lily's logic. It was the same reason she was always encouraging Harry to
talk and open up. Simply put, she wanted to know him, everything about him—good and bad—because she loved
him. As a friend, a distant voice in her mind added.

Luckily, Hermione was already through the worst of it. She spoke quickly as she told Lily about the bars on
Harry's window before Second Year, and how the Weasleys had to rescue him. Then, about how Harry had blown
up his aunt Marge and run away before Third Year. After that, Hermione said it got better, since Harry was finally
old enough to defend himself. She pulled her backpack over and rummaged around for something she could use
as a handkerchief. When she looked back at Lily, she almost started crying anew.

The older witch looked completely broken. Hermione reached out and squeezed her hand. "He's fine, Lily. It was
awful, I know, but he managed to break out of it. He's caring and kind and—and—has a huge heart. He turned out
great, despite it all."

Lily nodded and when she looked down, a few of her tears fell onto the back of Hermione's hand. Lily turned
away, probably not wanting the guys to notice her obvious distress, then she pulled herself to her feet and began
pacing the area, making the birds who had settled around them fly back into the tree.
Hermione watched in awe as Lily composed herself. She figured it was the sort of skill only someone who had
been through a grueling war and been forced to watch all their friends die would have mastered. When Lily
resumed her seat across from Hermione, the only hint of their earlier conversation was her eyes, which were
haunted and slightly red and puffy.

"What is the morality of punishing someone in this world for something they did in another?" Lily asked.

Hermione just shook her head, not sure if this was a serious question.

"I'm asking more for James," Lily continued, "since he's probably going to kill Vernon when he hears this."

"Vernon's dead in our time," Hermione said softly. "He had a massive heart attack last year."

"Did he die instantly? Or suffer first?" Lily asked harshly.

"It was instant."

She looked disappointed. Hermione hadn't seen this side of her before. It reminded her of something Ron had said
about her once, brilliant, but scary. Lily was watching Harry now and the cruel look from before was replaced
with tenderness. "Did he go to the funeral?"

"Yeah." Hermione had wanted to go, but it had been after their fight following his engagement party. He'd gone
with Ginny and Ron while she'd made up some excuse about work, thinking it would be best if she stayed away.

A heartbreaking smile lit up Lily's face as she continued to watch Harry. "Of course he went," she whispered.
"Merlin, I love this boy. Well, man, I guess. I've just met him and I love him." She turned back to Hermione
before saying, "And I'm determined to show him how much before he leaves."

"I know he'll appreciate that."

Lily reached out and placed her hand on Hermione's cheek. "If I didn't know you were going back with him and
would be looking out for him and loving him in the way he truly deserves, I wouldn't be able to bear it." She
leaned forward and placed a kiss on Hermione's cheek, where her hand had just been. "Thank you, again. I don't
think I can say it enough."

Later that night, Harry was in the shower room, washing up before bed. Every time he caught his reflection in the
mirror, he was wearing a goofy smile. He couldn't remember a day that had been this good. He'd been allowed to
be himself with his parents and they'd liked him—for being him, not their son. And he'd learned more about them
today than he had this whole trip.

Morad had spent the rest of the day showing them around to his favorite, lesser-known parts of the sanctuary.
They'd visited the family of unicorns, flown alongside occamies on their brooms, and climbed trees with
clabberts, which were a cross between a monkey and a frog.

By sunset, they'd been knackered and ready to return to the campsite, but Morad had insisted they stay to see the
Hinkypunks, who only came out at night. Harry had only ever seen smaller versions of the creatures in Lupin's
class, but these were much larger, as tall as James and Harry, colorful, and surprisingly friendly.

After that, they ate under the stars with Morad and the giant who guarded the entrance, Blunk. They listened to
the giants' stories about the animals as they watched the creatures settle in for the night. Harry felt like he was on
a high, like he'd downed ten mouthfuls of Felix Felices. He would remember this day for the rest of his life and
visit it in the pensieve often.

When he returned to the hall, his mum was standing there, leaning against the canvas wall. "Sorry," Harry said. "I
didn't know you were waiting. I thought I was the last one."

She gave him a dismissive wave. "You are. I was waiting for you."
"Oh."

Lily bit her lip, obviously nervous about something. She sighed and placed her hands on either side of Harry's
neck, moving her fingers up along his jaw. "I know who you grew up with," she began.

Harry's mouth went dry.

"I know what it was like," she continued, tears welling in her eyes, "and I am so sorry. You needed a mother and
she wasn't there. I know there's nothing I can say to make it right. I just wanted you to know I love you and that I
am so impressed with you. Each new thing I learn is more remarkable than the last. And I'm not talking about any
of the war stuff. Just you."

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a firm hug. Harry moved his hands to her back, a little
awkwardly. His thoughts were moving slowly and he was having trouble deciding how to feel. She leaned back
and kissed his cheek, told him she loved him again, then wished him good night, leaving Harry standing alone in
the hall.

His feet were heavy as he closed the short distance to his bedroom. Once he was inside and had closed the flap,
he rounded on Hermione. "What is wrong with you?!" This had her name all over it. How else would his mum
have known?

Hermione sighed and placed the book she was reading on the bedside table, then carefully pulled herself to her
feet. She'd been waiting for this confrontation all day. She knew Lily would say something to Harry about the
Dursleys and that once she did, Harry would blame Hermione for telling Lily about them. She had thought she
was in the clear after everyone said good night, but Lily must have cornered Harry in the hall after that. Hermione
waved her wand to cast a Muffliato Charm around the room before turning to Harry.

"I didn't tell her," Hermione said calmly. "She guessed."

"The fact that you know what I'm talking about means you had some sort of conversation about it. What did you
say?"

"She knew about the protective spell Dumbledore placed on your aunt and uncle's house, since he used the same
sort of spell in this world, to protect Neville. She knew it was fueled by blood magic, which was how she guessed
which Muggles you lived with."

"What else did you talk about?" he asked.

Hermione pressed her lips shut.

"Tell me."

"She assumed it was bad, mentioned some—uh—abusive tendencies she's observed in your uncle from this world
and—she asked me to tell her what I knew about how you grew up."

"Did you?" he said coldly.

Hermione looked down at the floor. "I didn't want to. I told her it was your story to tell. But she—she said she had
to know and she was either going to hear it from me or you, and I didn't want you to have to go through that. I
was trying to spare you!"

Harry closed the distance between them. He waited for Hermione to lift her head before asking, "What did you
tell her?"

"What I know," she breathed.

"Which is…?"

Hermione turned her head toward the window, then rattled off the list she'd told Lily. It was all Harry could do to
keep from grabbing his wand and hexing her. Luckily, it was on the bedside table, just out of reach.
"Fuck, Hermione!" he shouted when she was finished. She flinched slightly, which he found satisfying. Good, she
should be uncomfortable. Because of her, the last few days he had with his parents were going to be an awkward
mess. "You knew I didn't want them to know! And fine, maybe she figured out I was with them, but you didn't
have to go telling her all of that!"

"What did you expect me to do?"

"Lie! Or at least be... less thorough." Harry groaned and dropped his head in his hand. "This is going to taint the
rest of the trip, you know? She's going to tell my dad and they're going to think I'm—I'm—" He cut off, searching
for the right word.

"It's not your fault that you went through that, Harry. You don't have anything to be ashamed of."

"I know that!" he cried. He pointed toward his parents' room. "But they don't!"

"Anytime they think of it—they're going to do the same thing you and Ron and Ginny and all the other Weasleys
do," he continued. "Give me that pitying look—the one you're wearing now—and treat me like something's...
broken. Like I missed out on this crucial thing everyone's supposed to have and because of that—I'll never be
quite whole. 'Poor Harry... orphan... abused... it's a wonder he can get out of bed each day... use dragonhide gloves
with that one.'"

"I don't think that!"

Harry sighed and went to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sure you don't," he said darkly. "Maybe it's not conscious,
but you think it. I can tell." He swore and dropped his head in his hands.

Harry seemed to collapse in on himself. His spine curved forward, his shoulders tensed, and he pulled his legs
close together. As Hermione watched him, his words echoed through her mind. "Something's...broken. I'll never
be quite whole."

She didn't think that—not even subconsciously. But she had just realized that he did. Hermione sat next to Harry
on the bed. Her chest clenched when he leaned away from her. "You're not broken. Yes, you missed out on things,
but it didn't have any lasting impact. There's nothing wrong with you."

He just snorted and kept his head down.

"I have facts to back it up," she continued, then started counting on her fingers. "In your first year at Hogwarts,
you saved an annoying girl you didn't like from a troll, because it was the right thing to do. You saved a different
annoying girl from a Basilisk the next year and the following year, intervened when Sirius tried to kill Peter,
saving a man's life and another man's soul in one night."

Harry looked up at her, but Hermione kept her gaze forward. She touched her fourth finger. "During the Triwizard
Tournament, you didn't leave the bottom of the lake until all the hostages were saved, you risked your life to
return Cedric's body to his parents, and you gave your winnings to Fred and George."

Hermione touched her seventh finger. "You risked everything to save Sirius, you buried Dobby by hand, you
saved Malfoy in the Room of Requirement." She paused and looked at Harry, who had silent tears falling down
his face. "I'm running out of fingers, so I'll end with how you gave up the Elder Wand, not even tempted for a
second by its power. I can keep going though—if you want."

Harry shook his head.

Hermione sighed. "This is all proof that you're whole, Harry. You had a bad childhood, but it didn't break you.
You're one of the most whole people I know."

"You really think so?" he whispered.

"Yes."
He let out a long breath, then wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. "It's hard to stay angry with you after a
speech like that," he said into his lap.

"That was the point."

He turned his head and gave her a sad smile. "Sorry I yelled. It sounds like my mum backed you into a corner."

"Yeah."

"But I think she was bluffing when she said she was going to ask me for details if you didn't tell her."

"Yeah. I realized that later. She's very cunning." Harry let out a breath of a laugh. "We talked about Snape too,"
Hermione added. "I can tell you what she said."

"Oh—yeah. I'd like to hear that. Later, though. I don't want to talk about Snape right now."

They shared a smile and just like that, something shifted in the air between them. The distance separating them,
which had felt heavy and almost solid a few moments ago, seemed to dissolve to almost nothing. A curl fell into
Hermione's face and Harry reached forward and pushed it behind her ear, brushing her cheek with his fingers.

His mind told his hand to come back, but it lingered near her face, as if acting on it's own. "You're beautiful," he
whispered, the words falling out of his mouth, unbidden. When she didn't cringe, or push his hand away, he
continued. "I know I tell you when you're all dressed up, but I should say it more, because I'm thinking it all the
time."

Hermione looked down as a warmth spread up her neck. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

Harry shifted closer to her, so their legs were touching, then lifted her chin with his hand and whispered, "I want
to kiss you."

This was only half of it. He didn't just want to kiss her. He wanted to remember what she tasted like. He wanted
to press his lips to her pulse point, then find the sensitive spots on her neck—the ones that would make her
shudder. He wanted to soak in that maddening scent of hers. He wanted to reach under her shirt and cup her
breasts. Push her onto the bed...press her into the mattress...

"She's Ron's fiancée! Not yours!" a voice cried from the back of his mind. But it was weak.

Harry leaned forward and paused just shy of her mouth, so close he could feel her breath on his lips. He closed
his eyes and placed a hand on her neck, then shifted forward. As soon as his lips brushed against hers, she
stopped him, placing a hand on his chest. "We can't."

"You feel it. You have to," he said, keeping his face just inches from hers.

"I do," she admitted. She sighed and rested her forehead against his. "It's like, I never really knew how accurate
the word 'attraction' was until now. We seem to be...drawn to each other."

Harry smiled. This was the closest she'd come to admitting she felt anything for him. But she ruined it with her
next statement.

"It's these bodies we're in. They seem to...long for each other. And emotions are high. That doesn't help." She
carefully shifted away from him.

"No," Harry said clearly. "It's more. For me, at least, it's more."

Hermione frowned and shook her head.

Why was she so determined to ignore this?! "Do you really think this is just going to go away when we're back?
That we're really going to be able to pretend nothing happened here and continue our lives like normal?"

"Yes. That's exactly what we're going to do. These feelings, or whatever, will pass."
"What if they don't?" he challenged.

"Not long ago, you were completely hung up on Ginny. Now…it's like you've forgotten who she is. It'll be the
same with this. You'll move on."

Harry flinched. Fuck, that hurt. "I love Ginny but I—I'm not sure—" He paused to take a deep breath, pinching
the bridge of his nose. "I've been thinking of what you said at our engagement party. About me marrying Ginny
because I thought that's what I was supposed to do. And you told me I should own the decision and I—" He
paused, then cringed before saying, "I don't think it's what I want. I can't come up with a solid reason why I
decided to marry her."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "What are you saying? You're going to break up with Ginny?"

"How can I possibly marry her with this—" He motioned to the space between them. "I wouldn't want her
marrying me if she felt this way for someone else."

Hermione shook her head. She began pacing the room and speaking quickly. "No, Harry. Don't put this on me. If
you want to break up with Ginny, you do that for your own reasons. And make sure you've really thought through
what that would entail. You'd have to tell her the wedding she's been planning for months isn't happening. You'd
have to tell her why. You'd have to tell Ron, then the rest of the Weasleys. The papers would have a field day with
it. Then you'd have the awkwardness of splitting up your mutual friends. You'd have to cancel every wedding
plan one by one…"

"I'm willing to put up with some inconveniences to avoid marrying the wrong person," he countered.

She stopped pacing and said sharply. "And who's the right person? Me?! Are you hearing yourself?"

Harry sneered, trying to summon anger to cover up the pain her words had incited. "And what about you? What
are you going to do?"

"I'm marrying Ron."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What more is there to say? I made a promise to marry him and I intend to keep that promise. He's a wonderful
person and our best friend and he doesn't deserve to lose his fiancée in the blink of an eye."

"He doesn't deserve to enter into a marriage with a witch who has feelings for someone else!" Harry gestured
toward the bed, where they'd been sitting just moments ago, about to kiss each other. Where she'd stared at him
with a look of longing that rivaled only his own desperate desire for her.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I didn't say I had feelings for you. I said I felt drawn to you. In this body, in this
world. You're having a crisis and seem determined to drag me down with you."

"So are you! That's why we're here!"

Hermione set her jaw and stayed quiet.

"You said you were looking for something more in your life, then went hopping to another dimension to find it.
And who did you bring with you? Me! Not Ron, me! And now we're here, we can't keep ourselves away from
each other and you—you're ignoring it. You said you wanted to burn everything down. Well, you did it.
Everything's on fire and now you're running and hiding. Why?" Harry sighed and stepped closer to her. He
grabbed her hand. "When have you ever run away from hard things?"

She pulled her hand out of his and said in a rough voice, "When I'm at risk of losing everything."

"You didn't do that in the war. You stayed. You fought. How were you not at risk of losing everything then?"

She dragged her eyes back up to meet his and the expression there was pleading as she breathed, "I still had you."
 Harry froze. The air between them thickened again. He felt like she was so close, yet also, stuck behind an
impenetrable barrier. She was telling him she liked him back, wasn't she? But she was also determined to go back
to Ron.

"I want to stop pretending to be your fiancée," she said softly. "I'm telling your parents the truth tomorrow.
There's no need to keep pretending and then—then I want to sleep on the couch downstairs."

Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or yell, so settled on a dejected sigh. "Why are you so determined to
fight this? Just—tell me plainly. Please."

Hermione looked away from him. "I don't think it'll last past this trip. And I'm—I'm not willing to give everything
up on a whim. You shouldn't either."

"You're convinced this is a whim." He took up her hand again and linked their fingers together. "This feels like a
whim to you?"

She looked at their entwined fingers for a long time before dropping his hand and turning toward the bed. "Yes.
We should sleep. We have an early start tomorrow."

She climbed into the bed and buried herself in the blankets. When Harry got in next to her, she
muttered, "Protego." A thin shield appeared between them.

"I'm not going to grab you in the middle of the night," he said sarcastically.

"It's just a precaution," she replied, her voice warped by the magical barrier.

"The fact that we need a bloody Shield Charm to stay away from each other means this is more than a whim."

She didn't say anything and just shifted further under her blankets.

Harry barely slept that night. A few hours later, the Shield Charm dissolved and he turned and looked at
Hermione, whose back was to him. He'd picked apart their entire argument several times and decided that either
she didn't feel the same way he did and was hesitant to say so, not wanting to hurt his feelings, or she was scared.

He was pretty sure it was the latter. If it were the former, she'd have put him out of his misery by now. He sighed
as he rolled onto his back. He was scared too. Especially of Ron's reaction. Would he understand? No. Definitely
not.

But what was Harry supposed to do? Ignore his feelings for Hermione? All to protect Ron's feelings? Hadn't he
been putting Ron first for years? Wasn't that part of the reason Hermione didn't trust him? And Ginny… Was he
really going to break up with her? She'd be devastated.

These questions continued to swirl in his mind for hours. He didn't reach a conclusion before exhaustion finally
caught up to him.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Okay. Harry just cycled through a lot of different emotions there in a short amount of time. Poor guy.
Keep fighting for her, Harry! You can do this!

Note: If the emotional cheating component of this story is uncomfortable to you, I suggest moving on. It will
only get worse from here. Telling me how much you dislike it isn't going to make me change the story I plan
to write. Sorry (but not really...at all). And to all of you who have been incredibly supportive of this story so
far, thank you! Your comments mean the world to me.
 Hidden Depths, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Day Eleven

When Harry woke the following morning, the bed was empty. He groaned as he pushed his legs over the edge,
rubbing his eyes furiously. He reached over and silenced the ringing coming out of his wand. Could he sleep
another hour? Or maybe four? No, he was trying to win Hermione over, not piss her off, and going against her
plan for the day would certainly accomplish the latter. He sighed and pulled himself out of bed.

Harry stumbled over to his trunk, rummaged around until he found the pouch of Potions Hermione had packed
back at their flat in London, and downed a Stamina Potion. He'd crash later but if he didn't take something, he
wouldn't be able to make it through the day. He felt like he'd slept a total of twelve minutes last night, and that
was after an exhausting day of chasing erumpents, flying, climbing trees, and swimming.

He forced himself to pack as the Potion made its way through his body, slowly stimulating each of his muscles.
By the time he was dressed and had his belongings shoved into the trunk, he felt like a human again. There was
nothing left to do but go downstairs and see what sort of welcome awaited him.

His fears about his parents treating him differently once they learned about his upbringing ended up being
unfounded. There was no difference in their interactions over breakfast, besides a brief moment after James
handed Harry his tea, when he gave Harry a knowing look and squeezed his shoulder.

Harry's interactions with Hermione, however, were a whole other story. She was cold. Not overly so, she didn't
seem angry, but she was definitely keeping her distance. For instance, while they were eating at the table, Harry
saw her glance at the jam and contemplate whether it was worth reaching for it—which would require her to
brush up against Harry's side—or ask for it—which would require her to initiate a conversation with Harry.
Ultimately, she decided to eat her toast plain.

"Would you like some jam, Hermione?" Harry asked in the kindest tone he could muster.

"No thank you," she said with a forced smile. She was being overly polite. He knew this tactic, as she'd used it on
Ron a lot back at school, though very rarely on Harry.

Well, she ended up engaged to Ron, so maybe this is a good sign.

You're delusional!

Harry watched his parents exchange glances. They'd noticed something was off with him and Hermione. Of
course they had; they were smart. Luckily, they were also nice and didn't bring it up. Harry kept glancing over at
Hermione, expecting her to bring up the topic of Ron and Ginny, but she passed the breakfast in silence.

When it was clear Harry was going to get nowhere with Hermione, he turned to his mum and asked her how she'd
found out she was a witch and how her transition into the magical world had gone. Lily's eyes brightened as she
told the story of her initial bursts of accidental magic and how McGonagall had been the one to come by her
house and tell her family about Hogwarts.

At this point she turned to Hermione. "McGonagall was the Professor they sent for you too. Right?"

Hermione replied with a simple, "Yes."

When Hermione didn't say anything else, Lily nodded awkwardly and continued with her story. After telling
Harry about her first year at Hogwarts, she commended him for being such a good listener, saying that her son
rarely listened to her this intently. And he certainly didn't ask questions along the way, like Harry had done.

Harry silently commended her back for managing to tell that entire story without once mentioning Petunia or
Snape. He remembered what Hermione had said the night before about talking to his mum about Snape. He made
a mental note to ask her about that later, then wondered if she'd answer, or if they were going to be distant for the
remainder of the trip. The thought made him sick.

At the end of breakfast, Hermione told Lily she needed her help reviewing some formulas they'd need to get to
the next Wonder. They set up a makeshift desk on one of the rocks outside and told James and Harry to pack up
the tent. Harry was worried the "formula review" was just an excuse for Hermione to get Lily alone so she could
tell her Harry and Hermione weren't engaged. Or worse, more details about Harry's time with the Dursleys.

Harry volunteered to work downstairs as James went to secure the items on the top floor. When James was
upstairs, Harry rolled open the flap on one of the windows. He spotted the witches several feet away, huddled
around a flat rock. Harry cast Disillusionment and Supersensory Charms on himself and when he leaned close to
the open window, he could barely make out their quiet conversation.

Once he heard their voices, he immediately felt guilty (though not guilty enough to drop the spells). After a
minute of listening to Hermione rattle off numbers and his mum mention something about "lunar cycles," he
decided that Hermione had been telling the truth. He was about to remove the spells when he heard his name.

"I didn't mean to cause a rift between you and Harry by asking about his upbringing yesterday," his mum was
saying.

"We're fine," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "It wasn't about that. We—uh—had a row about something
back at home. But we'll be fine. We've had plenty of rows before."

Hearing her say that they'd be fine released a weight in Harry's chest. She was right, they'd been through much
worse.

"Did you tell him what you saw in the mist?" Lily asked next.

Harry perked up. Shit, the mist. He'd been meaning to ask Hermione about that and then… well… his parents had
learned the truth about him. But Hermione had confided in his mum? All she'd told Harry was that the mist had
made her experience losing everything. Everything that made her life make sense, over and over again. Was
Harry one of the things she'd lost? Why else would his mum bring up the mist right as they'd been talking about
him?

"Uh, no," Hermione said awkwardly.

"You promised," Lily pressed.

"I know."

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Harry dropped the spells and hastily closed the tent flap. He busied
himself with cleaning up the dishes from breakfast.

"Is that all you've done?" James asked as he walked into the room. "Put some plates in the sink?"

"Er—yeah?"

James laughed. "I know this tactic. Stalling until help arrives. It's why it can take me up to thirty minutes to
'prepare the kitchen' for cooking if I know your mum's on her way to help. I hate cooking. Have I mentioned
that?"

"A few times. I kind of hate it too."

"Well we don't need to cook now," James said, waving his wand to start the dishes cleaning in the sink. "I find
cleaning much easier."

"I don't really like either," Harry admitted.

"Just like my Harry then," James said with a grin.

Harry had always assumed he didn't like cooking and cleaning because of his time with the Dursleys. It was nice
to know it was just a part of him. This was an unexpected outcome of the trip. He wasn't just learning about his
parents, but himself. His mind flashed to Hermione and that moment last night when he'd been about to kiss her,
just before she'd pushed him away. Talk about learning new things about himself...

"Hey," his dad said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "How are you and Hermione?"

"Oh." If Harry didn't already have first-hand experience with how awful his dad was at Legilimency, he would
have guessed he was reading his mind.

"We had a stupid fight last night. But we'll be fine," he said, hoping if he and Hermione said the words out loud
enough, they'd become true.

After the tent was packed and Hermione declared her formulas ready, the group huddled around the Portkey and
reappeared on a rocky shore a few seconds later. Harry looked around. There was a thick forest behind them and
in front of them, a choppy, dark blue ocean that stretched as far as he could see in every direction. There was a
light mist falling from the sky, but not bad enough to warrant the use of Water Repellent Charms.

"Where are we?" he asked, realizing then that Hermione hadn't told him anything about this next Wonder.

"Graham Island," Hermione said quickly, already reaching into her backpack to pull out her notebook. "Off the
western coast of Canada."

"That makes this the Pacific Ocean," Lily said to herself as she walked toward the water, using her wand to clear
a dry path for herself. She crouched down and ran her hand through the wall of water she'd created. "Cold," she
said over her shoulder.

Hermione nodded absently.

"Well, I guess that's what Warming Charms are for," Lily said as she made her way back to the group.

"Wait, we're swimming in that?" Harry asked.

"I heard we were swimming but not where we're going," James said, looking at Hermione, who had her wand out
now and was checking a few Navigation Spells. Harry frowned. Even his dad knew more than Harry did.

"Yes, we're swimming," Hermione said, finally looking up from her wand. She pointed to her left. "We're
swimming for a mile in that direction."

"A mile?" Harry asked, alarmed. He wasn't a good swimmer. Hermione knew this.

For the first time that morning, Hermione truly acknowledged Harry. She placed a hand on his forearm and said
in a low voice, "You'll be fine. We're using Gillyweed."

His parents caught the interaction, exchanged sad glances when they realized what it meant (that Harry had never
learned to swim as a child), then, mercifully, they dropped it. Harry gulped and made his face impassive.

They changed into their bathing suits, cast strong Warming Charms on their bodies, then Hermione passed out
small handfuls of Gillyweed as Harry tried to keep his eyes from roving over her figure. Why did she have to
wear that black swimsuit again?
"Just a half-dose for this swim," Hermione explained, oblivious to Harry's inappropriate thoughts, "since we only
need it to work for about 30 minutes."

"This swim?" Harry asked, pulling his eyes back to her face. "How many swims will there be today?"

"Two," she said simply. "But the second one will be a lot longer."

Lily snorted.

"Okay," Hermione said, addressing the whole group. "We shouldn't encounter anything dangerous in this first
swim, as these are Muggle waters. But keep your wands out just the same. And don't forget to cast any spells non-
verbally, since the incantations will become garbled in the water."

She turned back to the ocean and cast a spell that created a line of white light in the ocean, stretching to the
horizon. "Now we just eat this," Hermione paused to sneer at the Gillyweed in her hand, which resembled a pile
of rat tails, "and follow the light."

"How will we know when we're there?" James asked.

"We'll reach a small island with a cave. It's shielded from Muggles, but we'll be able to see it once we pass
through the wards."

"And where are we going again?" James asked.

"I'll tell you in the cave," Hermione said with a grin.

"Of course you will," James sighed, then shoved the Gillyweed into his mouth. A moment later, when gills
appeared on the side of his neck, he ran his fingers along them, then burst into a grin. "Wicked." He turned to
Harry. "Hurry up and eat yours, then we'll race to this cave."

Harry started eating his portion of Gillyweed as Lily said to Hermione, "There they go. Turning something else
into a competition."

"You're welcome to join in, Lil," James said. "You too, Hermione. We can all race."

"No thank you. We'll have a nice, leisurely swim." Lily frowned at the Gillyweed in her hand before taking a
large bite as Hermione did the same.

The guys, who both had gills and webbed hands and feet by now, approached the edge of the water. "See you at
the cave," James said over his shoulder. Harry gave Hermione and Lily a small wave and the next moment, they
were underwater, swimming along the line Hermione had created. Lily and Hermione shared a smile before
jumping in after them.

James beat Harry to the cave. By a lot. But as soon as Harry swam through the entrance, he nearly forgot he'd just
lost a race, overcome by the sight before him. The cave was dark blue inside and as Harry pulled himself up onto
the ledge, where his dad was sitting with his legs hanging in the water, he saw that the water was glowing a bright
blue and lighting up the whole area.

"What's causing it to glow?" Harry asked.

"As far as I can tell…" James said, pausing to tap the water with his wand. Several gold runes appeared on the
surface of the water, then promptly disappeared. Harry recognized it as a spell to check for the presence of magic.
"It's not magic," James concluded. "There must be some natural explanation that I'm sure Hermione will cover in
great detail once she arrives."

Harry leaned back on his hands and enjoyed the quiet of the cave; the only sound was the soft splashing of water
near the entrance. The girls arrived a few moments later, just as the gills were disappearing from the side of
Harry's neck. Harry helped them up onto the ledge and James passed around towels, which he'd removed from his
pack and enlarged while he'd been waiting for the rest of the group.

"This is beautiful," Lily said, looking around in awe. "What's making it glow?"

"It's just the way the sun reflects on the white floor of the cave at this time of day," Hermione explained. "Another
one of those remarkable things that's just nature, not magic."

Hermione was wearing a soft smile, her eyes were sparking in the blue light, and a few wet curls were framing
her face. She looked breathtaking and Harry had to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her. He took a deep
breath and shifted away from her. Hermione's eyes met his and for a brief moment, it felt like her thoughts were
with his. The moment passed and she blushed, then shifted to put even more distance between them.

"Okay, Hermione," James said. "Tell us about this Wonder."

Hermione gave Harry a final glance before focusing on James. "It's called The Hidden Depths. That's the official
name of the Wonder. But you'd probably know the place better as Pacifica."

"Pacifica?!" James asked, sounding delighted. "Is that really where we're going?"

"What's Pacifica?" Lily asked. She turned to Harry, but he just shook his head.

James nudged her side. "You know...the merpeople's fortress," he said in an ominous tone. "Legend has it they
swim along the shores and snatch kids who've wandered off, transform them into fish, and raise them in their
houses as pets."

"That's not true," Hermione said. "It's just one of those tales Wizarding parents tell their kids to keep them from
wandering away at the beach."

"I never understood that," Lily said. "Why do Wizarding parents create stories to scare their children when the
truth is scary enough? When we went to the beach, I just told Harry if he wandered off, he could get caught up in
the water and drown. Then he'd be dead and would never see his parents, friends, or toys again."

"The stories are more fun, Lily," James said, exasperated. It was clear they'd had this argument several times.

Harry simply shrugged while Hermione said, "I agree with Lily. My parents were the same way, very matter-of-
fact. They just told me like it was, even when I was young."

"I always liked them," Lily said. "How are they doing in your world?"

"Oh, uh, good," Hermione replied, caught off guard by the question. "They—um—moved to Australia for the war
and just recently moved back to England so we're, uh, still getting used to living close again."

Harry placed his hand on hers, gave it a quick squeeze, then quickly removed it. It was clear from Lily's searching
gaze that she knew Hermione was leaving something out. "Maybe you can tell me the rest of the story later," she
said gently.

Hermione nodded. "Uh, anyway, Pacifica. I'm not surprised Lily and Harry haven't heard of it, since it's most
commonly known to Wizards in the way James mentioned, through bedtime stories. But—"

"Quick question," Harry cut in. He turned to Lily. "Did you not read bedtime stories to your Harry?"

"Oh. I did. I read him Muggle stories and James read him the Wizarding ones. I wanted him to have a thorough
understanding of both cultures and I think, in the end, we did a pretty good job of that." She turned to James, who
nodded at her.

Harry was glad they were looking away so they didn't catch the flash of sorrow he was sure had crossed his
features. This time, Hermione placed her hand on his, but it was gone before he could draw much comfort from
the gesture.
"Anyway, Pacifica," Hermione continued. "It's a real place and it's the largest underwater city in the world.
Contrary to the legends, though, it is not the original habitat of the merpeople. They originated in the
Mediterranean Sea and were commonly referred to by Muggles as Sirens. Now something you might find
interesting—yes, James, I see the obnoxious yawn and I don't care, tune out if you need to."

She rolled her eyes and shifted her focus on Harry and Lily, who were listening intently (Lily, because she was
actually interested and Harry, because he was trying to get back into Hermione's good graces). "I'm sure you two
have heard of Atlantis," she continued.

"Yes," Lily said. "It was an ancient city on an island that fell out of favor with the gods. They submerged it
somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean as punishment. That's just a Muggle myth, though." She looked at Harry, who
just shrugged. All he knew of Atlantis was the name and that it was meant to be under water somewhere.

"Right. Well, Wizarding legend has it that Plato, the man who first floated around the story of Atlantis, was
actually a wizard and was basing the tale off a recent visit he'd made to Pacifica. But he switched the oceans, to
try to hide the original city better."

"How do we get there?" James asked, clearly eager to move past the history lesson part of Hermione's
explanation.

"At the back of the cave, there—" she pointed toward a dark pool several feet away, "—we'll dive to access the
currents. We'll need to make our way through the overlapping currents in a very specific order to reach the
entrance to the city. If we get it wrong, we'll never find it. That's where the formulas Lily and I were working on
come in. It's not a clear path. It changes depending on the season and time of day."

James sighed. "It's never easy, is it?"

Hermione shook her head. She began taking two lengths of rope from her backpack and handed one bundle to
James and the other to Harry. "We'll want to swim in pairs, tied together, so if one of us gets pulled into the wrong
current, or just falls out into the wider ocean, they won't be alone. We'll tie these around our middle."

"What happens if someone falls into the wrong current or the wide ocean?" Harry asked, already hating this plan.

Hermione gave him a dismissive wave. "It'll be fine. Cast Confringo in the water, with your wand pointing down,
to propel yourself up to the surface. The pair that is separated will then make their way back to this cave and start
again. Both Lily and I have copies of the formulas, just in case."

"How do we make our way back to the cave?" James asked.

"Create a block of ice with a Freezing Spell, pull yourself onto it, then Apparate."

"You're brilliant," James replied.

"Thanks," Hermione said, blushing slightly.

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "What about magical creatures? Will we need to battle anything?"

"Nothing more than a Grindylow, and we all know how to do that." She looked to Lily and James for
confirmation and they gave her a quick nod.

"And will the merpeople be—erm—welcoming?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Yes, Harry. They're very peaceful. They were only pretending to be vicious for the task."

"Oh, right! I nearly forgot," James exclaimed. "You've done this before, in the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry nodded. "It was...eerie. How long are we going to stay there?"

"Two nights," Hermione replied.

"What?" Harry assumed it would be more like two hours.

"We have accommodations booked and everything. Don't worry, Harry, I think you'll like it."

"When has Hermione ever steered us wrong?" Lily added.

"Thank you, Lily. But I'd like to point out that we have the other Hermione to thank for all this. I'm simply
executing her diligent plans." Hermione got to her feet and motioned for the others to follow her to the back of
the cave. "Let's go. If we don't leave in the next ten minutes the path I currently have planned will no longer be
valid."

"Did you win that task?" James asked Harry as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Oh, er, no," Harry replied. "I arrived at the bottom of the lake first, but didn't leave until all the hostages were
saved. I had to bring two up to the top and it slowed me down a bit."

"He was awarded extra points from Dumbledore for having strong moral fiber, though, and came in second,"
Hermione added.

"You waited to save all the hostages?" James asked. "Why? Surely you didn't believe they were in real danger?"

"It felt real!" Harry said defensively.

Lily clapped him on the back. "I agree with Dumbledore. Good for you, staying behind to make sure everyone
was okay. I wish I could have seen it."

"I wish I could have seen you steal an egg from a dragon," James said wistfully.

"I can show you that memory later, James," Hermione cut in. James beamed widely. "Unfortunately, I don't have
anything from the Second Task, since I was unconscious, but Harry was brilliant with the dragon."

"I can't believe Neville didn't have to get past a dragon," Harry grumbled.

"That's the part you're bitter about? Not the fact that he got to avoid the graveyard?" James quipped. Harry
smiled. He liked how his dad didn't shy away from dark jokes. His mum, however, looked horrified.

"I'm more bitter about the dragon," Harry replied. "Only a few people know about the graveyard
but everyone knows about the dragon. I bet Neville doesn't have people asking to see his dragon tattoo all the
time."

"You have a dragon tattoo?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Hermione said, frustrated no one was paying attention to the task at hand. "A giant Hungarian Horntail
emblazoned across his chest. Now, can we focus?"

"She's lying," Harry murmured.

"Sure," his dad whispered back, grinning widely.

Hermione went on to explain the hand gestures she was going to use in the water so they'd know when a turn was
coming up ahead and in which direction. Then she passed out the Gillyweed, substantially more this time, showed
them an additional hand gesture she'd use when it was time to eat more Gillyweed, then informed Harry she
would need him to fight any Grindlylow off on her behalf, since she'd be using her wand to navigate.

It was a lot of information to take in and Harry wished they hadn't wasted so much time joking about dragon
tattoos so she could repeat it again. Hermione announced they had two minutes. They all started tying the ropes
around their waists and ate their Gillyweed.

"Alright," Hermione said, lowering herself into the water. "We'll talk again when we reach Pacifica!" She nodded
at Harry, then disappeared into the depths of the pool.
"Okay. Erm, good luck," Harry said to his parents. He felt the tug on the rope around his waist, then dove in after
Hermione.

They spent the next two hours swimming through a series of currents that swerved and crossed over each other,
creating a confusing maze. Harry marveled again at Hermione's brilliance and the limitless capacity of her brain.
When she said she'd memorized the path, he hadn't expected it to be so complicated.

They encountered other creatures who were also using the currents to travel through the ocean—sea turtles,
dolphins, countless fish, several merpeople, and even some grindylows—but no one tried to attack them, so Harry
left them alone. Halfway through, Hermione guided them out of the current so they could each eat another
mouthful of Gillyweed, then they were back to swimming.

Even though it was longer than the swim to the cave, it was much easier, since the current pulled them along. The
only time Harry really had to swim hard was when they were turning onto an offshoot. But even though the
swimming was relatively easy, and seeing the different types of fish was interesting, Harry could feel his eyes
drooping as the Stamina Potion he'd taken back at the Grand Canyon began to catch up with him.

Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't covered a hand signal for, 'How much longer? I'm about to pass out.' Harry was
trying to figure out how to get a message to her and considering using the coin, when he felt something pulling
him off course. His eyes widened when he spotted a large whirlpool on their left. He instinctively began
swimming away from it.

A hand grabbed his ankle. He turned back and saw Hermione making the hand signal for 'stop.' His parents were
swimming up behind them, both looking scared as they noticed the whirlpool, and Hermione motioned for them
to stop too.

Hermione wrapped her hands around Harry's wrists and cocked her head toward the whirlpool. Harry shook his
head. Surely she didn't mean for them to go in there? He studied the vortex and saw several flashes of light in the
water but couldn't decide if that was a good or bad sign. There were fish caught up in the swirl and they looked
calm. Well, didn't fish always look calm?

Hermione moved her hands to his face and it felt weird with the webbing between her fingers. "Trust me," she
mouthed.

She looked beautiful. Even with the gills on her neck. Even with the eerie way the ocean made her look, with
blue-green skin and large, dark eyes. Even with her hair floating around her in a wild mess. That's when he knew
without a doubt that he had it bad. And that no matter what she asked him to do, whether it was give up his magic
or swim into an ominous-looking vortex, he'd do it.

Harry nodded. Hermione swam into the vortex and Harry followed her. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long to
find out if he was going to die. They were almost immediately deposited into completely smooth water at the base
of a giant city. It took Harry a moment to adjust to the lack of movement. Then, he took in the sight around him.

It was...unlike anything he'd ever encountered. He'd been expecting a larger scale of the merpeople village he'd
seen at the bottom of the lake, with stone dwellings and small gardens. This was...not that.

The city was composed of floating bulbs of all shapes and sizes, stretching out as far as he could see. They were
made of what looked like glass and were lit at the top with floating lights. There were elaborate designs in bronze
on the bottoms and sides of each bulb, setting them apart from each other. It reminded Harry of the ornaments his
Aunt Petunia would put on her Christmas tree.

Connecting the floating circles were paths made by lines of giant bubbles. Harry watched in awe as people
walked through the bubble paths to get to other bulbs (or, rooms, was probably more accurate). The merpeople
didn't use the bubble paths and simply swam between the different areas of the city.

When he focused on one of the closer rooms of glass, he saw two kids running around a coffee table, chasing a
cat. How did they get a cat down here? An orb next to that one contained two merpeople, swimming around what
looked like a kitchen. Harry began to notice that about half the rooms were filled with air and half were filled
with water.

A hand appeared under his chin and gently closed his mouth, which had been hanging agape. He turned and saw
Hermione beaming at him. On his other side, his parents were studying the city, wearing expressions of awe.

Hermione motioned for them to follow her and led them to one of the largest orbs in the city, to the right of what
appeared to be the main entrance. Hermione swam to the bottom of the glass circle and Harry saw what looked
like a lobby, with a mix of merpeople and humans inside.

Harry was wondering how they were supposed to get through the glass when Hermione pointed at a smaller half-
sphere jutting off the side of the larger circle. She swam inside and once they'd all joined her, the space was
cramped. She tapped her wand to a metal circle on the wall and suddenly, the half of the sphere that was opened,
closed up. The water drained from the room and the group collapsed into an inelegant heap on the ground.

"Bloody hell," James, who had ended up on the bottom of the pile, swore.

"Sorry," Hermione said, pulling herself to her feet. "I didn't know exactly what that would do. I thought we'd be
transported in or something."

"Nope." James groaned as Harry lost his balance on his way up and accidentally shoved an elbow into James's
side.

"Sorry, dad."

When they were all standing, they couldn't help but share giddy smiles. "This place is incredible," Lily exclaimed,
peering into the lobby through the glass wall. Now that Harry could see it more clearly, he noticed it was
elegantly decorated with floating bulbs of light on the ceiling, more bronze embellishments along the glass walls,
and a dark green floor that appeared to be marble that was fashioned to look like seaweed.

"Isn't this beautiful?" Hermione said, looking out the far window at the city. "I've read descriptions, but it's not the
same as seeing it."

"I thought it would look something like the village at the bottom of the lake," Harry admitted. "This
is nothing like that."

"I could have told you that much," Hermione said with a laugh.

If we were talking, Harry thought to himself.

"Okay, we should probably put a few more clothes on before walking in there," Hermione declared, pulling her
backpack off.

They all agreed and grabbed trousers and shirts out of their packs. They dried themselves off as best they could
with their wands, pulled their clothes on over their swimsuits, then turned to Hermione for further instruction.

Hermione tapped her wand to a second metal plate, this one with an arrow pointing toward the larger room, and
the glass wall between the smaller sphere and the large lobby dissolved. "Wow," Lily said as they walked into the
elegant space. "So, this is where we're staying for the next two nights?"

Hermione nodded as she led the way toward a desk at the end of the room under a sign that read, "Registration,"
which flashed every few seconds to show the word in a new language.

"Yes. There are a number of places to stay in this city, but this is the largest and most popular hotel," Hermione
explained as they crossed the lobby. "They get a lot of tourists here, like us, but also diplomats and people here on
business, since this is the primary trading post between the Eastern and Western parts of the globe."

Hermione stopped just shy of the desk and turned to ask if someone could cast a Translation Spell on the
merwoman behind the desk for her. Harry nodded and pulled his wand out of his pocket, confused about why she
couldn't cast it herself.

The merwoman looked to be around Harry's parents' age, but Harry couldn't be entirely sure. She had deep blue
eyes and dark green hair that was pulled back, out of her face. She was wearing pearl stud earrings and a necklace
with a deep blue crystal. Compared to the merpeople Harry had seen at Hogwarts, she was incredibly well-kempt.

As they approached the desk, Harry saw there was a pool of water underneath, where the merwoman was
floating. He looked around and noticed that the room was lined with a floating rectangle of water, which he
assumed the merpeople used to get around the area.

Hermione nudged Harry in his side and he focused back on the merwoman behind the desk. He cast the
Translation Spell and when the merwoman spoke in a high, shrieky voice, the word, "Hello," appeared in front of
her in floating grey scrawl.

The merwoman used her large, webbed hands to grab a flat, black oval rock from the desk and something that
looked like a quill. She handed them to Hermione and Harry, then shrieked again. The words from Harry's spell
said, "Write the name your reservation is under and method of payment there."

Hermione, to Harry's surprise, pushed the rock and quill to the side. She held her wand to her throat and began
speaking in what sounded like Mermish. Harry's eyes widened in surprise. The merwoman behind the desk, who
had previously looked bored and slightly annoyed, beamed and began clapping her hands.

Harry watched as they talked animatedly, forgetting to read the translation under the merwoman since he was so
focused on Hermione.

"Does she know Mermish?" James asked from behind him.

Harry shook his head. "It's a spell. See how she has her wand to her throat?"

James leaned across Harry to see the glowing tip of Hermione's wand pressed against her throat. He let out a
whistle. "This witch knows everything, doesn't she?"

Harry just shrugged. As he watched, he saw that Hermione still needed to read the words in the air to understand
the merwoman. Then when she went to respond, the words came out of her mouth in Mermish. She must have
needed Harry to cast the Translation Spell because she couldn't keep both spells going at once.

"We got an upgrade!" Hermione announced in her own voice once she was finished talking to the merwoman.
She held out a large, green key. "Jumana was so happy to speak to someone in her language, that she offered us a
suite at no additional charge."

Hermione turned around and gave the merwoman a final wave before moving aside for a pair of goblins who'd
appeared behind them. Jumana's face went back to looking bored as she greeted the goblins.

On their way up an elegant, twisting staircase that seemed to be made from a mixture of glass, seaweed, and
bronze, James quizzed Hermione about the spell she'd used. Harry listened intently, since a spell like that would
be very useful when speaking to international informants. Hermione explained the spell was experimental and
tricky to use. She also explained that the primary limitation was the inability to cast any other spells, which was
why it only worked when you had someone else with you to cast the traditional Translation Spell.

"I still want to learn it. Will you show me?" Harry asked.

"You know I can't show you experimental spells until they've been properly tested and released to the public."

"Oh, right. If you do that, you might get fired," he said in a low voice only she could hear.

She gave him a small smile.

Their "suite" was contained in one large, glass bulb. On the bottom level was a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a
sitting room. In the center was a skinny staircase that led to two lofted bedrooms. Everything was very open and
the few walls that existed were made of glass.

"How, uh, transparent," Lily said, waving through the wall to an elderly woman one room over.

"There has to be a way to—ah, here we go." Hermione pressed something near the door and the portion of the
glass wall surrounding the sitting room clouded over and they could no longer see the sea outside. "I assume
there's something like this in all the rooms," she said.

Lily just nodded, busy taking in their beautiful, yet strange surroundings. After a quick inspection of their living
quarters for the next two nights, the group agreed to take a break to get cleaned up before dinner. Lily and James
went into the bedroom at the right of the stairs, pleased to find that there was a way to obscure the glass walls
surrounding that room too.

Hermione disappeared into the other room while Harry went to take a quick shower, hoping it would help him
wake up.

When Harry was finished with his shower and wearing clean, dry clothes, he warily made his way up the stairs.
Things were still awkward between him and Hermione after their fight from the night before, but he didn't have
anywhere else to go. When he opened the door to their room, he found her in a strange position.

Hermione was bent over a deep blue dresser at the side of the room, gripping the edge with her hands. There was
a pillow propped between her stomach and the edge of the dresser and the notebook she and Harry had been
writing in was laying open on the surface. Every so often, she released one of her hands from the back of the
dresser, picked up a pen, and wrote a few things in the notebook, then returned her hand to the back of the dresser.

"Er, Hermione?" Harry asked, placing his backpack down as he walked into the room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice strained. "I'm just—uh—stretching."

"No, you're not. You're in pain, aren't you? You're supposed to tell me when it gets bad," Harry scolded. He was at
her side now. He peeled her off the dresser and led her to the bed, wincing as he saw her brow furrow in pain.

"I'm fine," she forced out.

"Stop lying." Harry helped her lay back on the bed, propped a pillow under her head, and pressed on her side, the
same way he'd done in China. Damn, that seemed so long ago. But it was just a week ago, wasn't it? Touching her
now felt worlds different than it had then.

"Is that better?" he asked, looking off to the side in an effort to alleviate some of the awkwardness.

"Um, yeah," she replied. Harry felt her relax under his touch. He chanced a look up at her and saw her focusing
hard on the ceiling.

Harry laid his head down on the back of his hands and let his eyes close shut. Sometime later, the length of which
Harry couldn't gauge in his current state of exhaustion, he jolted awake. Hermione shifted under his hands. "Are
you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm trying to keep from passing out. I had a Stamina Potion this morning and it's finally catching up to
me."

"Harry! You took a Stamina Potion?! Why didn't you tell me? What if you'd crashed while we were swimming?"

Harry shrugged.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. She looked at her wand, which was lying on the dresser, out of reach. Then
she turned her head and spotted Harry's wand on the bedside table. She grabbed it and pointed the wand tip at
Harry's temple. "Close your eyes."

"Are you going to cast that spell on me that delays the crash from the Potion?"
"No. I'm going to kill you. Now close your eyes and keep still."

Harry snorted, then closed his eyes. She muttered a foreign incantation and Harry was hit with an unexpected
shock. "Keep still," she said sternly.

"I wasn't expecting to be electrocuted."

"Nice use of a Muggle term there, now really, stay still, or else this won't work."

She shocked him a few more times, then declared she was finished. When Harry opened his eyes, everything
seemed sharper, or maybe that was just in his head. He moved his head side to side. No, it wasn't just in his mind.
He felt decidedly better. The fog that had been clouding his thoughts was gone. "How long did you delay it for?"
he asked.

"Three hours. That should get you through dinner with a little time after to get cleaned up and into your pajamas."

"Thanks. I can't wait until this spell is available to the public."

She just nodded and looked over at the clock on the wall.

"Um, what time did we agree on for dinner?" Harry asked. He already knew, but was trying to keep an awkward
silence from settling between them.

"On the hour. So we have 40 minutes."

Just when Harry was trying to figure out how they were supposed to fill in the next 40 minutes, she placed her
hands on his and began pulling them away. "I'm okay now," she said. "The worst of it has passed."

"Are you sure?" Harry slowly pulled his hands off of her, studying her face for any signs of discomfort. But she
seemed okay.

Once he'd released her, she rolled onto her stomach, pushing one of the pillows under her side, where the wound
was. "There we go," she sighed once she'd settled into her new position. "This feels good."

"O-kay," Harry said, pulling himself up out of the bed. "I guess I'll leave you alone then. Do you—erm—need
anything?" He glanced at the notebook she'd left on the dresser.

"Yes. My notebook, pen, and wand, please."

Harry handed her the items and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He was in the doorway when she said,
"You can stay."

"Oh, yeah?"

Hermione nodded and shifted over on a bed to make room for him. "I was just looking at the final scoring for all
those jobs you listed out for me and I've got it narrowed down to three. I'd sort of like to run them by you, um, if
you don't mind."

"I'm really busy," Harry said as he laid on the bed next to her, "but I can clear my schedule for you."

Hermione smiled as she opened the notebook. Harry turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand, and
listened to her talk at length about the pros and cons of each of the jobs she'd picked: something with books (an
editor, more specifically), lobbyist, and pursuing a Mastery (inspired by Hermione's career choice in this world).

"What do you think?" she asked when she was finished describing her thoughts on each job.

"Lobbyist is all about saving the world, editor is all about doing something you enjoy for a living, and pursuing a
Mastery appeals to your desire to learn. Honestly, I don't think you're going to be satisfied unless you're doing a
combination of all three."
"I can't have three jobs."

"Hear me out. If you go the Mastery route, you should try to find a way to do activist work on the side. And also
put plenty of time aside in your schedule to read. Alternatively, you can be an editor who works for a non-profit
and does special projects with some of the Professors at Hogwarts on occasion. I know you'll be busy, but—I
don't know, you like that, don't you?"

Hermione didn't respond. She was staring at him oddly and Harry was worried he'd said something to upset her.
"I'm sorry. It's just an idea. I didn't mean to discount—"

"I love it," she cut in.

"You do?"

She nodded and began scribbling feverishly in the notebook. Harry laid on his back and listened to the sound of
her pen moving against the paper. They were already back to normal: talking easily and giving each other advice.
Thank Merlin. And he'd only had three inappropriate thoughts during the entire conversation. That was definitely
an improvement.

The sound of writing stopped a few minutes later and she asked, "What about you? Have you considered quitting
again?"

"Not really," he admitted, moving back to his side. "I've had a lot on my mind the past few days."

"Oh, yeah. With your parents finding out and everything."

"Yeah. That and...other things."

Hermione blushed and dropped her eyes.

Harry reached for her hand, then changed his mind at the last moment and gripped the blankets tightly. "Um,
Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

He waited for her to look back up at him before continuing. "I know there's this really awkward, er, thing between
us. Or, um, you know what I mean."

"The 'will they / won't they' situation?" she provided.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "That makes it sound like 'will they' is a possibility."

His suggestive tone and half smile reminded Hermione of James in that moment and she felt a pang in her heart
and dropped her eyes again.

"Sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to press."

And now he's Lily, Hermione thought. She took a deep breath and shook her head as she met his gaze again.
"You're fine. What were you going to say?"

"I wanted to propose we make a pact. That no matter what happens between us, we'll always be like this. Friends,
above all else. I can't lose this. I can't lose you."

"Absolutely. I don't want to lose you either." Hermione held out a hand for him to shake. "Friends always, above
all else."

Harry gave her hand a firm shake.

Hermione looked at the clock and announced it was time for dinner. Harry helped her out of the bed, fussed over
her injury for a minute, then turned to leave the room.
 "Harry?" she said when he was almost in the hall.

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I said last night. I'm going to tell your parents we're not engaged. Then I'm going to tell them about
Ron."

A cold pit settled in Harry's stomach. "Okay. Er—now? At dinner?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll leave it up to you if you want to tell them about Ginny."

Harry just sighed. He hadn't thought any more about Ginny and whether he could really go through with breaking
things off with her. "I guess I should tell them, since I am engaged to her."

"Yeah? So you...um...changed your mind about...ending things?"

Did she care? Harry wished he could cast a Translation Spell on her to show the thoughts flashing across her
mind. Knowing Hermione, the words would probably go by too fast for him to read.

She was watching him expectantly and he focused back on her. "I think I can tell them all of it. How I'm engaged
and how I have doubts, too, though I'll probably save that last bit for later. That's the sort of thing you do with
your parents, talk about real stuff, right? And they—they're really good at that, aren't they?"

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "Yes, they are."

"Okay," he said, stepping into the hall and holding the glass door open for her. "I guess after this, the last secret
will be out."

She made a point to avoid his eyes as she nodded.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Inspiration for the blue cave was the Blue Grotto in Hvar, Croatia. Inspiration for Pacifica was Otoh
Gunga from Star Wars. I liked the name Pacifica because it's in the Pacific Ocean and also, it's a minivan,
something I'm a big fan of at this stage of life.

Continued thanks to my beta, Lancashire Witch, who loyally reads all my stories, regardless of pairing, plot,
length, etc. She's the best. And thanks to all of you for reading!
 Hidden Depths, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

They ate sandwiches for dinner, using groceries Hermione and Lily had picked up in a Muggle town near the
Grand Canyon, since no one had enough energy to make anything more elaborate. Harry didn't mind the simple
meal, until he realized it meant dinner was over almost as soon as it had started.

After Lily swallowed her last bite, Hermione cleared her throat and announced, "There's one more secret we've
been keeping from you that we're ready to come clean about."

"Oh," Lily said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. She looked at James, who just shrugged. Then she looked at
Harry, who took the opportunity to focus hard on Hermione.

"I guess I should get right to it," Hermione said. "Harry and I aren't engaged."

Lily smiled. "Oh. Is that it?" She nudged Harry's side. "What are you waiting for?"

Harry winced. "Uh—actually…"

"I'm engaged to someone else," Hermione cut in.

"Wait, what?!" Lily exclaimed.

Harry could feel her eyes on him, but stayed focused on Hermione.

"You're not together?" James asked.

"No," Hermione replied.

"What happened? Why did you break up?" Lily asked.

"We've never been together," Hermione replied.

"What?!" Lily said, sounding appalled. "But you're so...coupley."

"Yes. We're very good at pretending," Hermione said simply.

Lily leaned forward. "Are you really telling me you've been engaged to someone else this whole trip?" Her eyes
were sharp and her tone was stern. Hermione knew she was referring to all the kisses she and Harry had shared,
and maybe even the incident with the mist.

Hermione felt a burn on her cheeks and neck. She wanted to look away, but forced herself to maintain Lily's gaze.
Harry's hand appeared on her knee, under the table, and she gripped it tightly. "Yes," Hermione replied. "I know,
um, at times we may have become carried away with... pretending to be engaged... but emotions have been high
on this trip. Also, we've been in a foreign world in other people's bodies which has been quite stressful, causing
us to turn to each other for comfort because we're—uh—familiar. Back in our world Harry and I are very close,
but only as friends."

"That's your story then?" James asked.

Hermione returned his flippant question with a scowl.

Lily's brow was furrowed and she was gripping her chin, deep in thought. "Hang on," she said.
"Maybe...you are good friends in the other world and have been in love for years without realizing it. Then you
came here and were forced to see each other in a new light which...ignited something. And now...well...you're
realizing you should have been together this whole time."

"No—" Hermione began to protest.

Lily cut her off and turned to Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry shook his head and said honestly, "I don't know." Hermione squeezed his hand painfully and he added,
"Hermione's right. We're just friends. And she's getting married in the spring to, erm, someone else."

"And the fact that you're holding hands under the table right now," James said. "You don't think that speaks to
anything more?"

"You two literally can't keep your hands off each other," Lily added as Harry hastily pulled his hand away from
Hermione, "which makes sense for a young couple in love, or even a set of friends who just recently realized they
love each other, but not for two platonic friends."

"It's not like that!" Hermione exclaimed. "We're just close. And I'm with Ron."

"Ron Weasley?!" James asked.

Lily smiled. "Is this a joke?"

"Yes, Ron Weasley and no, it's not a joke." Hermione said snippily. "I can't imagine it's a big surprise since he and
the Hermione in this world were together briefly."

"No, they weren't," Lily said quickly.

"We saw a photo of them kissing! And—and you said Hermione slept with someone at Headquarters. Ron was
there so…"

"Hermione was with Neville," Lily said.

"Neville?!" Harry cut in.

"Jealous?" James asked.

"No, er, just curious," Harry said hastily.

"Neville?" Hermione repeated. "Not Ron?" She felt sick and quickly downed the rest of her water. When her glass
was empty, Harry refilled it for her. She glared at him, trying to tell him with her eyes to be a little less attentive,
at least for the remainder of this conversation.

Lily and James watched the interchange, but said nothing. "Hermione was with Neville at headquarters," Lily
continued in a soft voice, "but it was never romantic. Everyone knew Hermione was desperately in love with
Harry."

"Except Hermione and Harry," James provided.

"True," Lily laughed, "but Neville knew. They were just depressed and lonely, fearing they were going to die.
That sort of thing was common in the war. Then, at the end, it turned out to be convenient that they'd been
together, since Hermione needed the connection she'd established with Neville to complete that soul-bond
reversal."

"I think we can add that to the list of reasons Harry was cross with us when he returned," James added. "That
relationship never would have happened if he'd been allowed to live at Headquarters."

"But she would have had to sleep with Neville eventually," Lily pointed out. "Otherwise, how would she have
done the spell?"
"Good point. I'm sure she would have found another way," James said thoughtfully. "Especially with Harry there.
You can use magical objects to link souls. Consummating isn't the only—"

"Whatever," Hermione interrupted. "What about Ron? Are you sure he and Hermione were never together? Like I
said, we saw a photo of them kissing at Hogwarts."

Lily shook her head. "I don't know about kissing. If I had to guess, it was some sort of dare, or perhaps an attempt
to get Harry's attention, but those two never seemed interested in each other like that. They were like siblings,
constantly bickering. Plus, they had nothing in common, their personalities weren't very compatible and as far as I
could tell, they wanted very different things out of life."

"It's different in our world," Hermione said harshly. "Ron and I are very compatible."

"You don't sound so sure," Lily challenged.

Hermione just scowled.

"What does Ron have that Harry doesn't?" Lily asked.

Harry finally spoke up. "It's not like that. Hermione and I have never—we're not, erm, attracted to each other, like
that." Lily snorted, but he ignored her. "In our world we're the ones who are like siblings. But, like, not the
bickering kind."

"Siblings must behave very differently in your world," James said.

Lily just snorted again, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at Harry and Hermione.

"I understand this is a shock," Hermione said softly, speaking directly to Lily, "but you seem more upset about
this than when you learned we were from another world. Why is that?"

"I am upset," Lily said sharply.

"Why?" Hermione pressed.

Lily sighed before straightening in her seat again. "I can forgive the deception. I can also forgive you for picking
the wrong wizard in another world. Merlin knows you went through more there than any witch your age should,
which could cloud your judgement. But I can not tolerate you sitting there and saying you don't feel anything for
Harry when you obviously do. Deep in your heart," she finished knowingly, and Hermione knew she was
referring to what she saw in the mist.

Hermione looked down at her lap. Harry wanted to hug her, but knew it wouldn't be a good idea so instead, said
something to pull the attention away from her. "I'm engaged too."

"You're engaged?" James asked.

Harry nodded.

"To be married?" James pressed.

"Yeah. To, erm, Ginny Weasley. Ron's sister. We're getting married in June."

Lily let out a laugh. "Funny."

Harry shook his head. "It's not a joke."

James and Lily froze and exchanged concerned looks.

"What?" Harry asked. He focused directly on his dad, who was looking at him sadly. "What's wrong with Ginny?
Tell me."
James cleared his throat. "Ginny recently started dating a friend of yours."

"Who?" Harry asked, though he knew the name before his dad said it.

"Neville."

That dark feeling of loneliness hit Harry like a tidal wave. He scrambled to his feet and went to stand next to the
outer wall. He placed his fist on the cold glass and watched a school of fish swim by. "I need air," he said
hoarsely. Then, he realized they were miles underwater and there was no way to go outside and get air. "I mean, I
need to go."

Hermione dropped her head in her hands as she heard Harry pounding up the stairs. "Hermione," Lily said gently,
placing a hand on her arm.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Hermione snapped. She got to her feet. "I'm going to check on Harry."

Hermione bound out of the room but had no intention of following after Harry. Where else could she go? The
sitting room at the edge of the sphere was dark and out of sight of the kitchen, so she went there and laid down on
the couch. As long as Lily and James didn't come in and turn on the lights, they wouldn't see her on their way
upstairs, so this was as good a place to hide as any. Hermione grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and
covered herself before lying back down.

She could hear Lily and James's voices echoing from the other side of the suite.

"This is too much," Lily was saying. "I refuse to accept this."

"It's not that bad. They fell in love with different people. It's a different world."

"No! Just—no. I already have to imagine him being raised by Vernon Dursley. Then acting as Dumbledore's
puppet, fighting in battles as early as eleven, seeing death for the first time at fourteen, and searching for
Horcruxes all on his own. He lost everyone who meant anything to him almost as soon as they entered his life,
then walked to his death by himself. But at least—at least he found Hermione. At least she was looking out for
him. That was my one solace and now—they took that away! It's not Hermione he's chosen to spend his life with
but a fame-obsessed bint!"

"We don't know her."

"She's not Hermione. That's all I need to know. And they—they clearly love each other! Even if I didn't see it
with my own eyes, I'd know from their story alone. She never left him and he—he always turned to her. And that
bullshit about them not being attracted to each other." She scoffed.

James chuckled. "I know. Is that why they're always touching? Or always staring at each other? Let's not forget
that passionate snog when she woke up after the mist."

"Or what the mist make her see," Lily added.

"Actually, it makes sense why it's so over-the-top," James said thoughtfully. "There's a lot of unresolved tension
there."

"Why can't they see it?" Lily asked.

"I have a theory."

"What?"

Hermione waved her wand and the next moment, the voices faded. She didn't want to hear James's theory. They
didn't understand. They didn't really know her and Harry and they certainly didn't know Ron and Ginny.

But Lily's voice kept playing in her mind.

"They were like siblings, constantly bickering... They had nothing in common... They wanted very different things
out of life."

"You came here and were forced to see each other in a new light which ignited something... You're realizing you
should have been together this whole time."

"No!" cried another voice in her mind. "It's not real. It's just these different bodies and this odd situation. It won't
last." But the voice was weak and she couldn't keep it in her mind for very long.

A few minutes later, the lights downstairs went out and she heard James and Lily climb the stairs. Hermione
turned and looked out the window, forcing herself to focus on the fish instead of the warring thoughts in her head.

She began counting them, trying hard to keep her mind on the fish and nothing else. When she reached 739, she
fell asleep.

Hermione was awoken several hours later by a soft hand on her arm and someone whispering her name.

"Hermione."

It was Harry. Even though he was whispering and she was half-asleep, she knew his voice. She'd know it
anywhere. She followed it out of her mind, floating past a torrent of half-formed thoughts and almost-
remembered dreams to wakefulness. When her eyes fluttered open, she saw his head hovering near hers.

"Harry?"

"Hey. You should move upstairs, to the bed. I never meant for you to take the couch, but I crashed from the
Stamina Potion. Sorry."

The events of the night started coming back to Hermione. Ginny was dating Neville in this world. Hermione and
Ron had never been together. She'd been with Neville of all people.

She pulled herself to a sitting position, lying back against the armrest of the couch. There was a soft glow coming
into the room from the sea outside. It was enough light so she could see Harry clearly, since he was close to her,
but the rest of the room was mostly dark.

"How are you doing?" she whispered.

Harry sat on the ground between the couch and the coffee table. He took his glasses off, placed them on the table,
and rubbed his face with his hand, groaning slightly. "I've been better."

Hermione pulled her knees up. "You can sit up here."

He waved her away. "It's okay. I didn't mean for you to stay awake. I just thought you'd want a more comfortable
place to sleep. And a chance to change into pajamas."

"I'm okay."

They were quiet. Harry watched the fish swimming outside, while Hermione watched Harry. Poor Harry.
Hermione wanted to find the Ginny in this time and hex her. What had happened? Maybe this Ginny had fallen in
with those shallow Gryffindors in her year. The ones the other Ginny had never had the patience for. Would that
be enough to change her entire personality? Maybe.

After a few moments, Hermione stretched her legs back out and said in a low voice, "The Ginny in this time isn't
the same as the Ginny in ours. For one, she never had that run-in with Tom. That was a huge, formative
experience. And there are probably countless other differences. I know our Ginny loves you. For real. I—
I know it."

Harry nodded, keeping his gaze on the sea outside. He looked dejected. But not completely broken, like she'd
been expecting. Not like he'd looked after his parents had first found out about them. That was a good sign, right?
Hermione reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you, really? You can tell me. What are you
thinking?"

He laid his head back on her legs and stared at the blue light fixture over their heads. "Do you really want to
know?" he asked the ceiling.

"Yes."

He turned his head to look at her. "Okay."

Harry pulled himself up and turned so he was facing her.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit up here?" she asked.

"I'm sure. I wouldn't mind some of that blanket, though."

Hermione enlarged the blanket with her wand, then threw part of it over Harry's legs. He nodded in thanks and
pulled it up over his shoulders.

"So, you want to know what I'm thinking…" he began. "I cycled through a hundred thoughts upstairs before I
crashed, so it's hard to decide where to start… My first thought was that I can't believe Neville has been with both
of my fiancées." He smiled slightly. "I sort of want to punch him but also...find him and ask him how he managed
to snag the other Hermione."

Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"I know you think I'm joking," Harry continued, "but I actually had that thought. Then I thought, 'Are you
seriously more upset by the news that Neville was with Hermione? Stop thinking about her! You're supposed to
be thinking about Ginny.' So I forced myself to consider her, even though it was painful."

Harry leaned his side against the couch and Hermione watched a few tears fall down his face. He wiped them
away quickly with the blanket. "Ginny…" He paused to let out a long exhale. "I love her. She's...brilliant,
beautiful, hilarious, driven. Well...I don't have to tell you. But I knew even before this revelation about her and
Neville something was off between us. I told you that last night. I've been thinking about it all day, during all that
swimming, and I think I figured it out."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "This Neville bit is sort of like the last piece to the puzzle. And it feels almost like that, like
something locking into place and it's...sad. Really, really sad, but also...freeing."

He was quiet for a while, just biting his lip and looking out of the window. "What did you figure out?" Hermione
asked.

"I think we were both in it for the wrong reasons. Ginny, she's so ambitious and subconsciously, she knows she
can get farther with me at her side. Also, I saved her. I think her feelings for me have always been clouded with a
bit of hero worship. And I—I was looking for a family and, well, Ginny's a part of the only one I've ever known.
We were sort of using each other, but I don't think either of us did it on purpose. But Ginny—she doesn't love me
—not really. And I can't blame her, since I haven't given her a chance to. She hasn't seen all of me. I...hide the bad
parts."

Harry propped his elbow up on the couch and rested his forehead against his fist. "The hard part is that a lot of it
is real. We do love each other, and we get on so well, most of the time, but I can't marry her. I know I can't but
then—when I think of telling her—not just her, but Ron and the rest of the Weasleys—my hands start to shake
and I feel as if I'm falling into some dark hole, with no way out."

Harry placed his free hand on Hermione's leg. "I know it sounds dramatic, but, look there. It really is shaking."

Hermione grabbed his hand, which was trembling slightly, and squeezed it.
Harry took a few, shaky breaths and faced Hermione again. "And then my thoughts shifted back to you.
Because...they can never stay away from you for very long." He looked down at their hands and began playing
with her fingers. "I'm cross with you," he whispered.

"You are?" He didn't sound very angry.

Harry nodded. "I'm supposed to be focusing on my parents. I only have a few days left with them, but all I can
think about is you, non-stop. I know it's not your fault, and that if it weren't for you we wouldn't even be here, but
I'm still pretty bitter about it."

"Oh. Sorry."

Harry nodded and pulled his hand away from hers. "I also hate the other Harry, more and more each day, for
getting to live this life. But then I wonder, if I took over his life permanently, would I miss my other life? I think
so. I'd miss Teddy. And I'd probably miss the other versions of my friends. You, especially. I expect this
Hermione is different from you and I—I wouldn't want that."

Harry stopped to wipe his eyes, then his gaze hardened. "And again, my thoughts drift back to you. Is it the same
for you? Is your mind cluttered with thoughts of me?"

When she didn't answer, he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into them as he let out a long sigh. "I can't
stand how you're holding back about what's going on between us, but I get it. You're going through your own
things and you don't owe me your thoughts. But you can have mine. That's all of them, good and bad.
Actually...none of those were very good, so...bad and worse."

He laid his head on her legs and smiled up at her. "And right now, I need you to remember that pact you made
before dinner to always be my friend, no matter what. Even when I'm sad and rambling and sharing stupid,
unkind thoughts that make you uncomfortable. You promised to stay my friend but—maybe you're regretting it
now."

"I'm not." Hermione reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, attempting (in vain) to tidy it. He closed his
eyes and his lips turned up slightly as she continued to stroke his hair.

"I've never told anyone all my thoughts before," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "Not without a filter."

She gave up trying to fix his hair and pulled her hand back. "You can tell me your thoughts anytime, Harry. Good,
bad, and worse."

"I know." He opened his eyes and gave her a smile that was small, just a slight curl in his lips, but still made her
heart skip. He was watching her with the same look of awe he wore when taking in a new Wonder. Hermione
suddenly felt warm. It had nothing to do with the blanket or the fact that Harry was laying on her legs, and
everything to do with that look in his eyes.

"I have one more thought," he said, his voice lower than normal. She shuddered at the sound of it. "Do you want
to hear it?"

It took her a second to find her voice. "Is it good, bad, or worse?"

"Probably a mixture of all three."

Against her better judgement, she said, "Okay."

Harry sat up and shifted closer to her. "I'm in love with you."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"I know you don't think it's real, but I'm sure it is. And you're thinking it's related to this realization about Ginny,
but it's not. What my mum said is right. I've been in love with you for years and on this trip, something...woke
those feelings up. And they're not going away.
"I love you because I can be myself with you. Because you're brilliant and beautiful and kind and brave. Because
you always have a plan, until you don't. Because you've always been there for me, even when I didn't deserve it,
and have always been the one I wanted most by my side.

"Because you never do anything by half, like deciding to come here just because you wanted a new job. I love
you because you're afraid of heights, but not afraid of handing your wand over to a giant. Because you smile in
your sleep, hum while you read, and get tears in your eyes when you watch my parents. I love all of you,
Hermione. And honestly, it scares me, and it takes a lot to do that," he ended with a humorless smile.

"Harry…"

"I don't want to hear your protests. Not tonight. Just...I was thinking it, and you asked what I was thinking,
so...yeah."

Hermione's heart was beating so fast, she thought it was going to fall out of her chest. Harry was staring at her,
his eyes more intense without his glasses, and she couldn't look away. He loved her. He'd been hinting at
something like this for days, but she was able to pass it off as physical attraction or just a crush. Something that
would pass. This...was harder to brush away.

Harry laid his head down on her legs again. He pulled the blanket up around him and closed his eyes. Hermione
watched a few tears fall onto the part of the blanket that was covering her legs.

"Harry," she said after several minutes had passed.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready to tell you what I saw in the mist."

Harry almost bolted upright, but forced himself to stay in place and keep his eyes closed. She was finally ready to
talk and he didn't want to do anything to muck it up. He simply hummed.

Hermione reached out and started playing with his hair again as she spoke. First, she told him about the scene
from the Department of Mysteries. He listened intently, cringing inwardly at the fake Harry's words. When she
was finished, he was about to reassure her that that would never happen when she continued talking. She told him
next about all the scenes from their past she was forced to relive but how he'd died in all of them.

When Hermione reached the end of her explanation, she had silent tears streaming down her face. Harry got up
and gently pushed on her legs until she shifted them to make room for him on the couch. He sat next to her and
took her face in his hands. "Is that really what you saw in the mist? That's your heart's deepest fear?"

She nodded.

He pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I will never leave you. Not willingly, at least."

She nodded into the crook of his neck.

Harry rubbed her back for a few moments. When her breathing was calm, he leaned back and asked, "Is this your
way of telling me you're in love with me too?"

Hermione's eyes were wide and pleading as she said, "I don't know."

He pushed back several curls that had fallen into her face. "Okay. That's fair," he said gently. "Will you tell me
when you figure it out?"

She gave him a teary smile, then leaned forward and hugged him again. "You'll be the first to know."

Day Twelve

Harry woke early the next morning, before anyone else was awake. He stretched his arms over his head and sat
up on the couch, which he'd eventually convinced Hermione to abandon the night before.

He put his glasses on, grabbed his wand, then wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and shuffled into the
kitchen to make tea. Once he had a warm mug in hand, he returned to the sitting room. Harry stood by the
window and watched the sight of the underwater city waking up.

All the dwellings had glass walls, like this one, allowing him to see inside, though most of the bedrooms were
clouded, so he could only peer into the main areas. He waved at a few fellow witches and wizards, but he didn't
focus much on them. He was more interested to see how the merpeople lived and sought out all the orbs in the
vicinity with floating figures inside.

His gaze settled on a larger home about six spaces down where a mother was swimming around the main room
with a baby in her arms, holding a bottle to its mouth. Harry smiled inwardly.

"Anything interesting out there?"

He turned his head to find his mum coming into the room, yawning.

"I was watching this merwoman with her baby. She's swimming around as she feeds it and I was thinking of
Teddy and how he was the same way. I couldn't get him to take a bottle unless I was bouncing him around. It was
fine during the day but in the middle of the night, pretty exhausting."

"You were an easy baby," she said as she stopped by his side. Harry turned to look at her and saw tears welling in
her eyes. She gave him a sad smile. "I can say you, and not 'other Harry,' because it really was you, that early on.
You were both the same. The little boy who fell asleep on my chest with his tiny little mouth hanging open, who I
would sit and watch for hours, that was you." Her voice caught in her throat and she had to pause to take a deep
breath. "I'm not sure why that makes me so sad."

"It's all sad if you think about it for too long," Harry said.

She let out a small laugh. "Yeah."

They turned back to the window and Harry pointed out the dwelling with the mum and her baby. "Do you want
tea?" he asked as he took another sip from his mug.

Lily shook her head. "I'll get some later."

They watched the merwoman swimming around with her child until she finally left the room, Harry guessed to
try to set the baby down for a nap. He tried to imagine what a merbaby's cot would look like.

Lily leaned her head against his shoulder and said, "Tell me about Teddy. You must be pretty involved with his
upbringing if you were doing middle of the night bottles. That's real dedication. Even Sirius wasn't that good of a
godfather."

Harry laughed. It was hard to imagine Sirius burping a baby. Or wiping spit-up off of his robes. "I've been
keeping him overnight, at least once a week, since the end of the war. It's good for Andromeda to have a break
and I—I never want Teddy to feel alone. I want him to know he has loads of people in his life who love him."

Lily wrapped an arm around him as Harry told her about Teddy. He explained that he was a Metamorphmagus,
like his mum, and had blue hair most of the time, but changed it often, which made bringing him into the Muggle
world tricky. Harry told her how Teddy could never seem to sit still and was going through a phase where he
shucked his clothes off all the time.

He told her about a recent incident a few weeks ago when Harry had found him in the middle of the kitchen,
playing with the entire contents of the rubbish bin. Teddy had also started climbing out of his cot and would fall
asleep at the door, so Harry had to be careful when opening the door in the morning.

"Is this boring?" he asked. "You don't even know this kid."

She lifted her head off his shoulder and shook it. "It's Remus's son. I love it. Tell me more."

"Okay. We've started giving him haircuts and it's seriously like trying to shear a hippogriff. When it was just Ron
and me trying it, we had to hold him down. We were worried about using spells on him, since it could scare him,
you know? So, Ron had him held down and I had the shears and was clipping little bits here and there, trying not
to hurt him as he swung his head around, when Hermione walked into the room and burst into laughter. She
intervened and had Teddy sitting quietly in a chair within ten minutes."

"What did she do? Bribe him with sweets?"

"No. Ron and I had tried that. She brought a Muggle television from her flat. It was like, well, magic. Which is
ironic since none of the actual magic we tried worked to distract him."

Lily laughed. "Smart girl."

"The smartest," Harry added.

Lily turned and Harry could feel her eyes on him. He took another sip of his tea before facing her. "Do you love
her?" she whispered.

Tears immediately sprang into Harry's eyes as he thought of the night before when he'd finally realized he loved
Hermione. The thought had popped into his head without much fanfare and once it was there, he knew it was
right. "Yes," he said hoarsely.

"And Ginny?"

Harry looked down at his tea. "She's incredible. I know you'd like her and I promise she's not just some shallow
girl chasing celebrities. She's just not...for me. I knew before the Neville thing and even told Hermione I was
considering calling things off during our last night at the Grand Canyon."

"Is that what you fought about?"

"Yeah. Sort of."

When Harry looked back at Lily, she reached her hand out and touched his cheek. "Have you told Hermione how
you feel?"

Harry nodded and this time when he tried to blink back his tears, a few escaped and fell onto his cheeks. "I told
her last night."

"What did she say?" Lily asked, brushing his tears away with her knuckles.

Harry just shook his head. "She didn't really say anything. She's told me before she doesn't think this will last
once we're back." He paused to sigh. "But she did finally tell me what she saw in the mist. You—uh—know,
right?"

"I know. Her deepest fear is losing you. That's proof that she loves you."

"I already knew she loved me. But that doesn't mean she wants to be with me. She also loves Ron.
She's engaged to Ron and determined to go back and marry him, regardless of what happens in this world."

Lily dropped her hand from Harry's face. She bit her lip and stared into the glass. He recognized the expression
Hermione got when she was solving a hard problem. "How long has she been with Ron?"

"Since the war ended. So, just over two years. But they've liked each other for longer."

"And how are they together?"

Harry snorted. "That's a loaded question."

Lily smiled. "What would you have said if I'd asked you at the beginning of the trip?"

Harry thought about the question as he finished off his tea. "Honestly," he began, looking out the window, "I
would have told you I never understood them together. I mean, they say opposites attract and they're definitely
that. And in some ways it's good. She pushes him and he calms her down. But I think it works more in theory
than in practice."

Lily let out a small laugh and Harry turned to face her. "But they're my best friends," he continued, "and I'd do
anything for them. And if they're happy together, I don't want to get in the middle of it."

"Do you think you can make her happier than he can?"

Harry dropped his head. "I don't know."

She nudged him in the arm. "Think about it. I know you're loyal and hesitant to hurt your best friend, but if you
stop and consider it objectively, what do you think? Who's better for Hermione?"

"I think I can make her happy," Harry said to the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think I can make her
happier than Ron. I understand her better, always have. I'm more patient and can let the little things go. I know
how special she is and I—I haven't always been good at this, but I'm learning more how to stop taking her for
granted."

He sighed and looked back up at his mum. "But Ron loves her. He's loved her the whole time, as early as Fourth
Year. And I don't want to hurt him."

Lily shook her head. "That's so odd, because he never showed an interest in her in this world. I wonder why it's
different."

Harry had a theory, but it was unkind to Ron, so he kept it to himself. And even if Harry was right, he was sure
Ron hadn't done it consciously. Harry took a deep breath and focused back on the sea outside. It was almost
completely lit up and Harry could see several merpeople swimming around, presumably on their way to work. "I
don't know what to do," he admitted.
Lily wrapped an arm around him. "Be patient. Hermione tends to cling to her plans because they give her life
meaning and order, and this is a pretty big plan she's going to have to get rid of. And the alternative, being with
you...I imagine it scares her."

Harry nodded. "It scares me too."

Lily hummed. "It's easier to stay with the person you love less. It's easier to commit half of yourself and keep the
rest hidden. But to go with the person you love more than anyone, the one you'd give up all your family and
friends for. The one you love so much that losing them has become your deepest fear. That's hard. She already has
a brilliant relationship with you that's working just fine. Why would she risk disrupting that?"

Harry gulped. "You make a good point. Why would anyone risk it?"

Lily placed her hands on his shoulders. "Don't you go changing your mind on me. You risk it because when you
find your person, the one you can really be yourself with, the one who loves you despite your flaws, you'll never
be content to simply love them from afar. It might feel safe, but you'll be incomplete. And I know that up until
this point you've been doing just that, keeping your distance to protect yourself, and it makes sense. You had so
much other loss to deal with, you didn't need one more thing. But the war is over, everyone's moving on, and it's
time for you to do the same. It's time to dive in."

She cocked her head toward the sea and added with a grin, "pun intended."

Harry shook his head. "You could have done without the pun."

"How about the rest of the speech?"

"Decent." He smiled. "Er—did the other Harry and Hermione have this problem?"

"No," Lily said simply. "But I'm not sure they love each other as much as you two. And that's not a knock on
them, they'll get there. But you and your Hermione have been through more together than most people will in a
lifetime. I think that sped things along for you."

Just then, they heard movement upstairs. Lily linked her arm in his and led him to the kitchen. "Enough heavy
talk. Try to put this out of your mind for a while. I'll work on her." She winked at Harry just as James entered the
kitchen.

"Damn. I thought I'd waited long enough to avoid having to help with breakfast."

Lily rolled her eyes and muttered to Harry, in a low voice only he could hear, "On second thought, maybe it's
better to just be alone." Her eyes were sparkling and when she looked back at James, Harry saw that look she
reserved for him alone (admiration with a hint of exasperation) cross her features. James blew her a kiss before
turning back to the stove.

Harry wanted that. This easy love his parents shared. They were so comfortable around each other and seemed to
know instinctively what the other needed. He could get here with Hermione. He was sure of it, even if she wasn't.

"Hey, James. Do you want to hear about Remus's son?" Lily asked, pulling a few items out of the fridge. "Harry
was just telling me that he's a bit of a terror."

James's face lit up. "I'd love to hear more about him. What was his name, again?"

"Edward Remus Lupin," Harry replied, "but we all call him Teddy, after Tonks's dad. And mum's right. He's a
terror."

James let out a laugh. He turned slightly, trying to focus on Harry as he spoke, and nearly burned his sleeve on the
flames from the stove. Lily pushed him toward the table. "Just sit and listen to Harry. I'll take care of breakfast."

"Are you sure?"

 She nodded and James looked like she'd given him box seats to the Quidditch World Cup. He pulled her into a
giant hug, sweeping her off her feet, and kissed her. She laughed. "You're so dramatic. Now go sit before you
burn this glass bubble down...which may not even be possible."

James was still beaming as he took a seat at the table. He stretched his legs out in front of him and motioned for
Harry to continue. "Okay. Tell me about mini-Moony."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Heavy chapter. Actually, they're all going to be a bit heavy from here on. We have a lot going on.
Hermione reconciling her feelings for Harry (and his for hers), Harry trying to figure out how to say
goodbye to his parents, and Lily and James trying to impart as much wisdom as they can before their time is
up. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, we'll get the Ron/Ginny fallout when they return to their world.
So...buckle in, folks! Full steam ahead on the Angst and Feels train!

Funny story: At this point in my draft I wrote, "I have no idea where to go from here." The response from
my beta was, "Teddy turns werewolf and eats Ginny. A bit dark, but it solves a problem." Oh, Lancashire
Witch... stick to editing!

Thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustration!

 Hidden Depths, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

After breakfast, the group went out and explored the city, stopping by the lobby to ask Hermione's new friend,
Jumana, for tips on where to go. At her suggestion, they visited the port first, since it was most active in the
morning. They watched in awe as magical ship after ship, each one more impressive than the last, stopped by.

"So this is how our neighbors got that cat here," Harry muttered as he watched a line of witches and wizards, one
with a cat peeking out of her purse, disembark a sleek silver submarine. "I was having a hard time imagining a cat
making its way through those currents."

"I was wondering the same about the goblins we saw yesterday," James added. "I've never known them to be big
into exercise. They usually just sit behind desks all day and count their gold."

"Huh," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I wonder why the other Hermione picked the currents and didn't just charter
a ship."

When she caught everyone giving her a strange look. "What? We're not the same person. You two would know
that better than anyone," she said to James and Lily. "Aren't we different?"

"Very different," Lily agreed.

"Also, exactly the same," James countered.

"Yeah." Lily nodded. "It's hard to explain."

Hermione recalled a part of Harry's speech from the night before, the entirety of which had been playing on a
loop in her mind all day. "I expect this Hermione is different from you and I—I wouldn't want that."

She saw him watching her out of the corner of her eye and wondered if he was remembering the same thing. She
kept her gaze forward, toward the wide ocean, and pointed out a large ship that was barely visible in the distance,
suddenly eager to change the subject.

They were currently in one of the largest spheres in the city, which was like a cross between a Muggle shopping
mall and an open-air market. There were four stories of stalls lined against the edges of the globe, selling
everything from exotic, silk robes, to rare potions ingredients, to magical creatures.

"Wow," Hermione said as she approached the next stall, stopping next to James. "Orrarath crystals. I've never
seen these in person before."

The crystals were oval shaped and deep black, so black that they looked more like holes in the universe, than
actual objects. It reminded Hermione of the utter blackness of the portal she and Harry had used to travel to this
universe. She shivered slightly.

"The discovery of these, and more specifically, the effects of their powder, called Gamp's entire Law of Elemental
Transfiguration into question, which had previously been in place for four hundred years."

"I know," James sighed. "I also received a N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration and am currently writing a textbook on the
subject."

"But that N.E.W.T. was pretty long ago…wasn't it?" she joked.

James scoffed. "Try me."

"What are the five exceptions to Gamp's law?"

"Food, money, love, knowledge, and life," he rattled off easily. "What's the one incantation that works the same in
all languages?" he asked, turning the questions on her.

"Duro. Who's the only person to ever successfully transfigure themselves into two types of animals?"

"Calcas Pearce," James replied. "Who invented the Incarcerous Spell?"

"Trick question. It wasn't invented. It happened by accident. Two Aurors were trying to create a cage using the
Incarcifors Spell, when one stumbled on the incantation and lifted his wand up, instead of pointing it down, at the
end. Ropes shot out of his wand and bound the prisoners. But there's more to the story."

"There is?"

Hermione nodded smugly. "You can't discover spells like that. You need to tie the magical elements of the spell to
the incantation and wand movement. This is accomplished in a lot of ways, but in our country, we use a large
grimoire that's stored at the Department of Mysteries. The only reason that blunder worked for the Aurors is
because the Incarcerous Spell was already under development and was just two months away from being released
to the public at the time of that accident."

"Huh. You don't get extra points for that."

Hermione just smiled. "Have you ever cast a switching spell on three objects simultaneously?"

"No. Because it's impossible."

"I've done it."

James's eyes widened, then he glared at her. "Have you done this outside the Department of Mysteries? Because if
not, it doesn't count."

"Fine," she allowed.

"Have you ever turned yourself into an animal?"

"You know I haven't."

James nudged her arm. "It sounds like I win then."

Hermione rolled her eyes. They stopped in front of the next stall but before approaching, they looked back at
Harry and Lily, who were still at the Pygmy Puff stall. Lily had three of the creatures on her shoulder and was
laughing as Harry poked the green one.

"Why did you move past that stall so quickly?" James asked. "Witches usually go crazy for those."

Hermione shrugged. "You were moving on so I, uh, decided to keep you company."

He gave her a quick once-over. "You've been staying awfully close to me today…" When she didn't say anything,
he added with a smirk, "I should probably let you know I'm happily married."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hah hah. I'm engaged."

"Oh, I know. That was the biggest surprise of the trip. And I'm including learning you were from another
dimension and all the details from the war in your world."

Hermione ignored him and approached the next stall, which contained a large tank of fish that were more jaws of
large, sharp teeth than anything. The sign on the tank said they were used to rid ponds of dark foes, but Hermione
feared if they were put in a pond, they'd eat everything in it, foe or not.
James leaned toward her and said in her ear, "I think the reason you're staying by my side is because you think I'm
the least likely of the group to corner you about your feelings for Harry. About how he told you he loved you and
that he wants to call off his wedding, but you couldn't return the sentiment."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "He told you?"

"He told Lily. And I'm under strict orders to do everything in my power to change your mind. So, I may not be the
safe haven you were hoping for."

Hermione shrugged and turned back to the savage-looking fish. "Nevertheless, I think I'll stick with you. Out of
the three, you're the least likely to be successful in that endeavor."

"Ouch," he laughed, running his hands through his hair. Then he smiled and added, "Though you're probably
right."

"I'm definitely right," Hermione said as she turned away from the fish and headed toward the next stall, which
was hidden behind a curtain.

James grabbed her elbow before she approached the opening in the curtain. "Hey. Quick word."

"About how wonderful your son is and how I should call off my wedding and be with him?"

James shook his head. "Though, yes, you should do that. I wanted to talk about what you showed me back at the
last Wonder. The proof that my Harry and Hermione are going to be okay."

Hermione's throat tightened. "Oh. Yeah."

"Is that really the only way?" he asked.

"I can't think of another way to ensure they're completely unaffected," she replied, keeping her voice low.

James's brow furrowed. He looked back at Harry and Lily, who were finally pulling themselves away from the
Pygmy Puff stall. "Did you tell him?"

"No," Hermione admitted.

"I haven't told Lily either. But they deserve to know. You need to tell them."

"I will. When we reach the next Wonder tomorrow."

"Okay." James bit the inside of his cheek as he gave Lily and Harry a final, despondent look. "You really like
your secrets, don't you?" he asked, turning to look at Hermione again.

"It's part of my job to keep secrets. It's become a bit of a habit."

"I think the habit extended beyond the boundaries of your job. You've even taken to keeping secrets from
yourself, haven't you?"

Hermione met his unyielding gaze. After several moments, her lips turned up slightly and she said in a light tone,
"Nice try, James. Better than I expected from you, for sure."

He gave her a half-smirk. "Tell Lily for me, will you?"

Hermione laughed, then motioned toward the deep purple curtains in front of them. "Ready to see what's in there?
Five galleons say I'll know more about whatever it is than you will."

"I am older and wiser, Hermione, and this isn't even your world. You're on."
Hermione ended up abandoning James by lunchtime, since they were both getting on each other's nerves. When
she rejoined Harry, he said to her with a knowing smile, "Bonding with my dad?"

He knew exactly what she'd been doing, of course. A warm blush crept up her neck and at a loss for anything else
to say, she stuck her tongue out at him.

For the rest of the day, as they ticked off each item on the list of sights Jumana had made for Hermione that
morning, she braced herself for a confrontation with Lily. But Lily left her alone.

Later that night, while James and Harry were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, Hermione stayed close, looking
out the window at the other dwellings around them. She figured if she remained within earshot of the guys, she'd
be safe from any ambushes. But again, Lily stayed away, and now, Hermione was getting nervous. What was that
witch up to?

Hermione began squeezing her shoulders. She'd been tense all day, waiting for Lily to make her move and trying
to stay on guard with Harry, and now… She rolled her neck and moved to her other shoulder. She wished she
could ask someone to rub her neck and shoulders. If Ron were here, he'd do it. He gave the best massages, even
though he usually grumbled the whole time about how she was too tense and needed to learn to relax.

Harry would rub your neck if you asked him.

I know he would but that would be wildly inappropriate. Whose side are you on?

Lily reappeared holding two bottles of red wine. "Look what I found in my trunk. I nearly forgot we had these.
You have some too, don't you, Hermione?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her. "I have a bottle and so does Harry. Why?"

"I was thinking...things have been so tense lately. Let's just...have fun. No yelling, no secrets, just a fun game."

"A drinking game?" Hermione asked.

"Are we playing a drinking game?" James asked, appearing in the entrance of the kitchen. "I haven't played a
drinking game since...shit. Long before the war. Probably the night we graduated Hogwarts. Remember that, Lil?"

"Barely," she said with a laugh.

Harry was behind him and Hermione was glad to see he looked surprised. He gave her a shy smile and a look that
said, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Hermione returned his smile and shrugged. "Fine by me. I'll go get the wine from our trunks. Let's play that game
we played at Fall's End. I'll let you two describe the rules to James."

"Hang on," she heard James say as she made her way upstairs. "While I was trekking through that forest, making
myself sicker than I've ever been, you were playing a game?!"

Hermione smiled inwardly and thought to herself, Take that, Lily.

Lily kicked off the game with, "I've never been to the Department of Mysteries."

Harry and Hermione took a gulp from their glasses of wine. They were sitting next to each other on the couch,
with a significant gap between them, while Lily and James shared the overlarge chair across from them. Their
limbs were tangled together and Lily had her head resting on James's shoulder. Harry was trying his best not to be
jealous. At least Hermione was here, playing this game. It could be worse. She could have disappeared into her
room to read for the rest of the night.

Also, she was smiling at him. After he'd told her he loved her the night before, he'd been expecting the cold,
overly polite attitude he'd given him yesterday. This was decidedly better.
"You can have that one," Hermione was saying to Lily as she placed her glass back on the table, "but no more like
that. So, no 'I've never visited another universe' or 'Stolen someone else's body' or 'Been an Unspeakable,' and the
like."

"Are we just going to make the rules up as we go then?" James asked.

Hermione ignored the comment. "Your turn, James."

Several rounds and a few glasses of wine later, the atmosphere in the room was much lighter. Hermione had
nearly closed the distance between her and Harry and was looking more relaxed than she had in days. The line in
her shoulders, the one Harry used to track her stress levels, was slack and she was smiling easily.

"I've never been to the Shrieking Shack," Lily said. Harry, Hermione, and James took a drink.

"Solid one," James said, pulling her into his side and causing her wine to slosh around in her glass. "Let me think
if I can get all three of you, too…" He gave them a wicked smirk. "Ah! I've never been to one of Slughorn's
famous parties." He looked at Harry and Hermione. "You were both in the Slug Club. Weren't you?"

Harry and Hermione nodded as they sipped their wine. Lily nudged James's arm. "Still bitter about the Valentine's
Party? That was ages ago."

"You had to bring Clark, didn't you?" he grumbled.

"The first two blokes I asked said no since you'd 'marked your territory,'" she said with an eye-roll. "Clark was
one of the only people brave enough to go with me."

James kissed her cheek, then turned to Harry. "That's the night she first kissed me."

"It is?" Harry asked. "After you went to Slughorn's party with someone else?" They hadn't covered this detail
when they'd told Harry and Hermione the story of how they got together. James had simply said that after months
of pursuing Lily, he finally wore her down.

"I'd stayed up that night, working on homework," James began, "so I was in the Common Room when she
returned—a lot earlier than I was expecting."

"You were doing homework on a Saturday night and had somehow managed to clear the Common Room," Lily
cut in. "Subtlety was never your thing, Potter."

"Anyway," James continued. "I was sitting at one of the tables, minding my own business, when she came over,
sat on my lap, took my face in her hands, and kissed me. Then she got up and went to her room without a word."
James gave Lily a quick kiss. "We've been together ever since."

"What changed your mind?" Hermione asked. Harry thought she was trying to come off as casual, but the way
she was leaning forward, toward Lily, and the higher than normal tone in her voice gave her away.

"I finally decided to stop fighting my feelings," Lily said knowingly. She turned and kissed the side of James's
mouth. "I was standing at that party, listening to Clark go on and on about which jobs he wanted to apply for, and
all I could think was, I wish James were here. Then I realized that he could be there and I was the reason he
wasn't. So, I left to go find him. I kissed him, knew immediately it was right, then went to bed with a big, goofy
smile on my face."

"As did I," James added, wearing what looked like a pretty good impression of the smile from that night.

"Anyway," Lily continued, "it wasn't smooth from then on, by any means, but I think we've done alright."

Lily leaned into James and he kissed her temple. "If only you'd figured it out a little earlier… Then I could have
met the lead singer for the Cauldron Cakes."

Lily swatted his arm. "Ugh. That band. You didn't even like their music. You just thought they were fit."
He opened his mouth, then closed it promptly. "Next round?" he asked Harry. He whispered something in Lily's
ear that made her roll her eyes, but didn't wipe away the smile on her lips.

"Okay," Harry said, exchanging a smile with Hermione, who'd shifted a little farther away from him during his
parents' story. "I've never graduated from Hogwarts."

Everyone except Harry took a drink. "That was a good one," Hermione complimented.

"Thanks."

"I keep forgetting you're a school drop-out," James added with a wink.

"My turn," Hermione announced. "Let me think… You all managed to come up with something that got the other
three, so I'll try to do the same…"

"You can go with the obvious, 'I've never been a Potter,'" Harry provided.

Hermione waved him away. "I thought of that. Too easy. I also thought, 'I've never lived at Godric's Hollow,' but
that's too sad, then I thought, 'I've never lost my parents,' but that's too dark."

"Yet you said them anyway," James murmured.

Harry laughed. "Hermione lost her filter after the last glass of wine."

"It's true," Hermione replied, without a hint of shame. "Oh! I've got it. I've never jumped off a cliff."

The next two rounds were benign, but then, Hermione went with, "I've never spoken to someone who's passed
beyond the Veil."

James pressed her, pointing out that they'd all visited the Tear of the Veil just last week, then she and Harry
admitted that they'd skipped it, and why.

Lily went with, "I've never been tortured," next, then stopped and encouraged everyone to talk about their
experiences and how they were managing with the trauma in the aftermath.

After that dark round, Harry tried to pull the game in a lighter direction, but when he said, "I've never been on
holiday—before this trip," the mood stayed solemn.

"Not even after the war?" his mum asked.

He turned to Hermione, whose side was brushing against his now. "Australia doesn't count, does it?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head and they went on to explain their Australia trip to James and Lily, who were horrified
to learn about the extremes she'd gone to to protect her parents during the war.

"You did all that, just so you could travel safely with Harry, and you're saying you don't love him?" Lily
exclaimed.

"I never said I didn't love Harry," Hermione snapped back while Harry said at the same time, rather harshly,
"Mum!"

"Sorry," Lily dropped her eyes.

"How are they now?" James asked, steering the conversation away from the awkward topic of Hermione and
Harry. "Did they forgive you?"

"Um, we're still working on it."

Harry wrapped an arm around her. "I'm really sorry," he whispered.

"You've apologized a hundred times," Hermione whispered back. "And I've told you that I've never regretted it.
Not for a second." She leaned into him and he gave her a brief hug, then forced himself to drop his arm.

Lily kicked off the next round with a jibe at James, clearly trying to lighten things up. "I've never cast an illegal
hex upon Bertram Aubrey to swell his head to twice its normal size."

"I've never turned my roommate's hair green for a week," he countered.

"That was an accident!" Lily said defensively.

"Doesn't matter, you still need to drink."

"So do you."

They clinked glasses and both drank a large gulp of wine.

Harry grinned at Hermione as he said, "I've never dropped a class by storming out in the middle of it after the
Professor told me I had a 'mundane mind.'"

"What?" Lily laughed. "Who called Hermione's mind mundane? Which class?"

They told the story about Professor Trelawney and the predictions she'd made all year about Harry dying. Then he
explained how he sort of believed her, since he'd been seeing a grim all year, but that it was actually just Sirius
watching him in his dog form, which made James laugh heartily.

"Okay, Harry," Hermione said, grinning evilly. "I've never received detention for being cheeky with a professor."

"You got a detention for that?" James asked. "I would have lived in detention if that's where the bar was set when
I was there."

"This was excessive cheek," Hermione explained. "Tell him what you said. He'll love it."

"It was Snape," Harry began.

"I already love it," James cut in.

Harry laughed. "Anyway, he was being his usual, mean self and he said something—I don't remember what it
was, but I replied with, 'Yes." Then he said, 'Yes, Sir.' And before I knew what was happening, I was saying,
'There's no need to call me Sir, professor.'"

James burst into laughter and after a few seconds, Lily joined in.

"What did you have to do at that detention? Do you remember?" James asked.

"Yeah. It was Saturday night and I had to sort out the rotting flobberworms from the good ones without gloves."

"Worth it?" James asked.

Harry smirked. "Absolutely."

The game devolved from there and they just sat around sharing funny stories as they finished off the last of the
wine. Hermione was tipsy. Not as drunk as she'd been after that festival in France, but her face was flushed, and
she was making jokes Harry knew she wouldn't make if she were sober. She had also given up on maintaining
any sort of distance between them.

Harry wanted so badly to lift his arm and drape it across her back, pretty sure if he did so, she'd snuggle close and
lay her head on his chest. He clenched his fist and kept reminding himself she wasn't his, even though he was
irrevocably hers. That he was a gentleman, and that if she were sober, she'd be behaving differently.
It helped that his parents were there, helping keep him accountable. When they announced they were going to
turn in for the night, Harry had a mild panic attack. He couldn't be alone with a tipsy Hermione.

He recalled that night in China when she'd said she liked shagging when she was drunk. And those tiny shorts
she'd been wearing, with her wild hair and wide grin. And how he'd had to move her top back in place, to cover
up her bra. A drop of warmth spread down his spine. He took a deep breath and focused back on his parents, who
were asking Hermione about the next Wonder.

"It's called the Song of the Stars," she replied, struggling to get through the S-es in the phrase.

"Doesn't sound like a place, does it?" Lily pointed out.

"It's the place where you hear the song," Hermione explained.

"Okay. Are we leaving bright and early?" James asked.

Hermione let out a large yawn. "I wouldn't mind a lie in. There's a pretty significant time change, nine hours
ahead, but as long as we leave by our check-out time, we'll be okay."

"Nine hours?" Harry asked. "We're going to lose nine hours on one of our last days?"

She placed a hand on his thigh. That warmth returned, more intense now. "Sorry," she whispered.

Harry gulped. "It's fine."

"Okay, we're off to bed." Lily bent down and kissed Harry's cheek, then gave Hermione a small hug and told her
to drink a large glass of water before bed. Harry waved at his dad and the next moment, they were gone, leaving
Harry and Hermione alone on the couch.

She was ridiculously close, nearly sitting on his lap, and she was still resting her hand on his thigh. Harry reached
forward and drained his glass, then instantly regretted it. Shit, he was supposed to be keeping a clear head, not
making his thoughts fuzzier.

"Hi," Hermione whispered. She was so close, he could smell the wine on her breath.

He finally gave in and draped his arm over the back of the couch. As expected, she snuggled into him, lying her
head on his chest and snaking an arm around his middle. "Hi," he replied, letting out a shaky breath, while
inwardly he was thinking, Fuck.

They sat like that on the couch for several minutes. Harry was willing his body not to do anything embarrassing,
thinking of things like the love affair between Filch and Madam Pince he and Hermione had imagined back at
school and how that boggart had looked when it was Snape dressed up like Neville's gran. Meanwhile,
Hermione's mind was pleasantly blank as she counted Harry's heartbeats.

"We should go to bed," Hermione said, pulling herself up to a sitting position, then stretching her arms over her
head.

"You're in my bed," Harry said, which sounded so wrong. Why didn't he think things out before he said them? He
glared at the empty glass of wine on the table.

"Oh," Hermione said with a small laugh. "So I am." Her brow furrowed. "I'm sorry about you sleeping down here.
We can take turns and—"

"No. It's just a few more nights and—" His throat closed up as an unexpected wave of sorrow crashed into him. A
few more nights. Three, to be exact. The next moment, Hermione was on him again, her arms wrapped tightly
around his neck and her face buried in his neck.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "I know how hard it's going to be for me to say goodbye to them. I can't even
imagine how you're feeling."
He patted her back, unable to say much else. He was trying to reconcile the mixture of heat—caused by the way
her body was pressed against his and her warm breath on his neck—and chill—brought on by the thought of
losing his parents again—that were coursing through his body.

Mercifully, Hermione pulled away and got to her feet, swaying slightly. "I guess I should leave you alone. To—
um—sleep."

"Come on. I'll help you up." Harry stood and grabbed her elbow to steady her. "I need to get some things from my
trunk anyway."

Harry guided her to the stairs while she protested, saying she didn't need any help. When they reached the bottom
of the stairs, she insisted he leave her alone while he insisted she let him help her. They thumb-wrestled over it
and he won in three seconds because, as Hermione pointed out, his thumbs were a lot longer than hers.

As Harry slowly made his way up the stairs with Hermione on his back, she said, "Your mum was trying to get
me drunk tonight so I'd profess my undying love to you and promise to call off my wedding."

Harry let out a laugh. "I know. But I'm a gentleman and even if you tried to make a pass at me, I'd deny you while
you're in this state." He thought of the snuggling on the couch and added, "Though it would be very, very hard."

"Really? Very, very hard?" She asked suggestively as he carried her through the door to the bedroom. "Is that a
scroll in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Harry felt like he'd been hit with a bludger. Fuck. This witch was trying to kill him. He gently placed her on the
edge of the bed and forced a smile on his face before turning to face her. "Okay. Time for you to be asleep." He
took her wand, which he'd pocketed downstairs, and placed it on the bedside table. Then he conjured a glass of
water and placed it next to her wand. "There you go. Do you need anything else?"

She shook her head. "That was fun tonight. Your parents…" She paused to smile. "I can't believe your dad broke
into Filch's quarters and put frogs' eyes in his bed."

"Really? You can't believe that?" Harry asked, smiling as he took a seat next to her.

She gave him a sly smile. "It's not as good as handing Umbridge over to the Centaurs...but still pretty good."

Harry laughed. It lit up his face, brightening his green eyes, especially, and Hermione couldn't make herself look
away from him, even though a voice in the back of her head was telling her she should.

He seemed to be having just as hard a time pulling his gaze away from her. The thought made her blush and she
finally dropped her eyes, focusing hard on her lap. "What?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"Nothing. Just…" Her voice trailed off.

He shifted closer to her. "Just…what?"

Her cheeks were burning now. "You just had a look in your eyes. Like...I don't know."

"Like I liked what I saw?" Harry tilted her chin up so she was facing him again. "Why does that embarrass you? I
already told you I'm in love with you. Is it really such a big shock that I find you beautiful too?"

She shrugged slightly, which made him roll his eyes.

"You're beautiful, Hermione. I wish that wasn't such a surprise to you every time someone said it."

"Thanks," she whispered. Her eyes landed on his lips. Alarm bells went off in her head and she pulled out of his
grasp.

She watched a daring look take over his face and was reminded of James, and how he'd probably looked before
breaking into Filch's rooms. "I've known you were beautiful for years," he said in a low voice, "but the first time I
realized how sexy you were, and how much I wanted to throw you on the bed and snog you, was that night we
arrived in China, when you were drunk."

Hermione's breath hitched. "Yeah? That early?" She liked this version of Harry, more confident and bolder. She
wondered if it was the alcohol, or if after telling her he loved her, and every other thought on his mind the night
before, he was finished holding back with her.

He nodded. "When did you first realize you wanted to kiss me?"

She frowned. He sighed.

"Fine. I'll rephrase that. When was the first time you thought to yourself, 'This body I'm in, which is not me and
whose thoughts and feelings are completely foreign to me, really wants to snog her fiancé?'"

Hermione scowled, but it was half-hearted. "Egypt," she said grudgingly. "When we were in the shower room
together."

"Ahh." Harry smirked. "So, you have a weak spot for me without my shirt on. Good to know."

"Also without your glasses," she blurted.

His eyes widened. "Really?"

She nodded and could feel the burn on her cheeks again. "It seems special, like I'm seeing you in a way not many
people get to see you." She reached out and touched the rim of his glasses.

"I think from here on out, every time I see you without glasses, I'm going to remember last night and the moment
you said you loved me. Because I'm beautiful and brave. Because I'm afraid of heights but not giants. And
because I smile in my sleep, hum when I read, and tear up when I watch your parents." She moved her hand up
and brushed her fingers against his forehead, where his scar usually was.

"Except for this," she whispered. "Because of this, I can still pretend it's not really you." She pulled her hand
back, then lowered her eyes.

"I'll just say it again when we're back. If that's what it takes for you to believe me."

A few tears fell onto her jeans.

Harry almost kept going, but he couldn't stand being the cause of any more tears. He leaned forward and kissed
the top of her head. He wanted to do so much more, and he got the sense she might let him, but he also knew
she'd regret it later and he wouldn't be able to bear that.
being a gentleman
"I guess I'll keep them on then," he said as he pulled away. "Both the shirt and the glasses, now that I know how
you feel about them," he added with a grin. "I know how you get when you're drunk," he teased, "but we should
leave this at light flirting, for now."

"Yeah," she breathed. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage and her vision was blurred. She couldn't tell if
it was from the wine or if she was simply intoxicated by the look of desire that was darkening his eyes. "I like
flirting with you," she admitted.

Harry smiled. He felt like he could float away. Then he saw a hint of realization harden her gaze. She opened her
mouth to add something else, but he pressed his fingers to her lips. "Let's end the night there. No buts, howevers,
or althoughs."

"What about nevertheless?" she asked, her lips moving against his fingers.

"Not that either." Harry leaned forward and kissed her cheek before forcing himself up off the bed. He gathered a
fresh pile of clothes from his trunk, then pushed himself forward. It felt like he was wading through thick mud.
His body didn't want him to leave the room, though his mind was shouting at him to get out there. "Goodnight,
Hermione," he said in the doorway.
"Goodnight, Harry."

Day Thirteen

Hermione was scrambling the next morning, rushing to pack her things and make up for the time she lost sleeping
through her wand alarm. She'd just pulled on a clean set of clothes, which was the last step needed before she
could finish packing her trunk. Harry must have already completed this task since his trunk was shrunken and
zipped up in his backpack. That meant he'd been in the room while she was sleeping and hadn't woken her up.
Maybe he'd even turned off her wand alarm. She'd have to tell him off for that later.

Once her trunk was packed and inside her backpack, she went to stand in front of the dresser, ready to dry her
hair. She could feel a wet spot on the back of her shirt where her wet curls had soaked through. She'd need to dry
that too. She winced at the thought. Ever since she'd woken up, the wound on her side had been pounding
painfully. She'd barely managed to lift her arms enough to wash her hair in the shower.

Hermione tested it, lifting her left arm first, but she could barely get her hand up to her chin. She tried her right
arm, next. She managed to raise her hand higher, just to the top of her head, but released a steady stream of curses
and "ow ow ow ow ow ow," the entire time.

Hermione hunched over, bracing her hands on the edge of the dresser, and took several deep breaths. What was
going on? Something about that long swim had aggravated her wound. Did the other Hermione have flare-ups
like this? What did she do?

Hermione forced herself to stand up straight. The other Hermione probably just powered through it. She took
several deep breaths, then raised her right hand and began drying that side of her head. A few minutes later, she
was slowly making her way to the back of her head, breathing hard through clenched teeth, when there was a
knock on the door.

"Come in," Hermione groaned.

Lily walked in, holding a tray with oatmeal, a bowl of fruit, and what looked like the makeshift Hangover Potion
Harry had made for her in China. "Are you okay?" Lily asked as soon as she saw Hermione.

Hermione placed her wand on the dresser and tried her best to stand up straight, but couldn't help but lean slightly
to the left. "I'm, uh, fine."

Lily shook her head. "You're not fine." She placed the tray of food on the dresser and went to stand behind
Hermione, pulling her wand out of her pocket. "Let me dry your hair. You eat."

Lily was glaring at her sternly through the mirror and Hermione knew better than to try to protest. She pulled the
tray of food in front of her and started sipping on the potion. She was about to tell Lily the best way to dry her
hair without making it frizzy, but Lily already seemed to know. She held her wand far away, used only cool air,
and was careful to limit how much she touched Hermione's curls.

"You know how to dry curly hair?" Hermione asked as she set the empty glass of potion on the tray and picked up
her spoon.

"I've done this for the other Hermione countless times. Though not as much as Harry has."

"He dried her hair?"

"She couldn't lift her arms over her head for months. He helped her shower, too," Lily added with a wink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're a very strange kind of mum."

Lily let out a laugh. "I just want my son to be happy. Both versions of him."
Hermione looked away from Lily's reflection in the mirror, unable to meet that intense, green-eyed stare she knew
so well. "Thanks for bringing this," Hermione said, stirring the oatmeal around with her spoon. "I didn't mean to
sleep for so long."

"You clearly needed it. That injury wears you out, so it's imperative you take the rest your body is demanding. We
have plenty of time, still almost an hour until check-out, and we don't have a tent to pack up."

Lily was drying the left side of Hermione's head, gently running her fingers through her curls, and Hermione took
the break in conversation to eat a few bites of oatmeal. When Lily was finished, she placed her wand down. "The
injury is hurting you a lot today?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "I think the swimming must have been bad for it. It's been hurting worse than normal since we
arrived here."

"That's one theory."

"You have another?" Hermione asked, curious to learn what Lily knew about the wound. She should have thought
to ask her sooner.

"Sorry," Lily said, guiding Hermione to the edge of the bed. Her mind was clearly in the same spot as Hermione's
because after she conjured a small table and moved the tray of food there, Lily sat next to Hermione and said
apologetically, "I should have thought to talk to you about that injury as soon as I learned you were a different
Hermione. There's been a lot going on, hasn't there?"

"No kidding."

"May I see it?" When Hermione nodded. Lily carefully pulled Hermione's shirt up. The lines that extended across
her side were an angrier red than normal. Lily hissed when she saw them. "Oh, Hermione." Lily lowered
Hermione's shirt and pressed her hand against the wound, putting her other hand on Hermione's back for leverage.
"Better?"

Hermione nodded, finally relaxing slightly, and ate a few more bites of food before turning to Lily. "How does
she handle this, Lily?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Hermione nodded.

Lily chewed her lip before speaking, like she was trying to decide where to start. "Hermione had a hard time with
her recovery. The Healers at St. Mungo's tried to contain the spell as best they could, but nothing could be done to
remove the dark magic, since it had entwined itself with her magic. At first, she was depressed, as you can
imagine, but it didn't take her long to dismiss the prognosis the Medi-wizards had given her and dive into her own
research."

"What did she research?" Hermione asked. "Surely the Healers at St. Mungo's knew more about magical injuries
than she did."

Lily smiled. "Yes. They knew about magical injuries."

"Ohh. She looked into Muggle medicine?"

Lily nodded. "She had a healthy respect for Muggle medicine, reasoning that they actually knew a lot more about
the overall mechanics of the body than Medi-wizards, since they didn't have magic to fall back on. She found
several studies that linked chronic injuries and pain to stress and confirmed through her own experimentation that
she could significantly reduce the pain by keeping her stress levels low."

"That's the big secret?" Hermione cut in. "Reducing stress?" If this was really true, it explained why the injury
had been acting up the past few days. Ever since the revelation about these feelings for Harry, and his supposed
feelings for her, her stress levels had been through the roof.
Lily shrugged. "I know it sounds simple, but it worked. Though it definitely wasn't easy. Especially for someone
as wound-up as Hermione." Lily paused to give her a playful smirk.

"What did she do?"

"Meditated."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I know. That was her same reaction. But she was desperate at that point and willing to try anything. And it
worked. She put aside an hour each morning to 'reflect and reset.'"

"R and R . I saw that in her planner but couldn't figure out what it meant."

Lily nodded. "She found it very difficult at first, but after a month or so, she got the hang of it. She told me once
she had to learn to let go of a lot of expectations she'd had for her life and focus on what she called the four
pillars, the things that gave her life meaning, and drop everything else."

"What were those?" Hermione eyed her notebook on the bedside table. She wondered if Lily would laugh if she
started taking notes.

"First, she wanted to leave the world better than she found it. Next, she wanted to stretch her mind. And third, she
wanted to enjoy the life she'd fought so hard for."

Hermione smiled. The categories were almost identical to the ones Harry had laid out when creating his job-
scoring sheet for her. It was funny how he had known, intuitively, what was most important to her. "What was the
last one?" Hermione asked.

Lily fixed her with an intense stare before saying simply, "Harry."

"What? How is that a purpose?"

"Why not? Loving someone else—openly, honestly, and completely, is no small feat. And he was there, offering
his whole heart to her. Why fight it? Besides, it works for her. She recenters herself around those pillars each day,
dismisses anything that doesn't align with her purpose, and that's how she manages the pain."

"That's, um, good for her," Hermione said in a rough voice. She popped a small strawberry in her mouth, but
struggled to swallow it down. She shifted the table away.

"Improving her mind, making the world a better place, trying to get enjoyment out of life, and loving Harry were
her driving forces. They felt right to her. What are your pillars, Hermione?" Lily asked gently.

Hermione's mind drifted back to a conversation she'd had with Harry at the beginning of the trip, the first night
they'd shared a bed together.

"When they approached me about the job, I was feeling… how to explain… like nothing fit. Everything had gone
right, you know? We won the war, I found my parents and restored their memories, Ron and I were finally
together, but something was still… missing.

"The Unspeakables, they research the most powerful forces of the universe. The magic no one really understands,
like love and happiness, fear, prophecies, time, and I thought - maybe if I was allowed to research those topics,
the unknowable forces, I'd find it."

"Find what?"

"I don't know, I haven't found it yet."

"You can let go of me," Hermione managed to force out through the lump in her throat. She turned her head to
look out the window. "I'm, um, feeling better."
Lily pulled her hands back and placed a gentle hand on Hermione's arm. "Hermione—"

Hermione pulled out of her grasp. She was glad to find the pain had subsided enough so she could walk without
limping. "I—uh—need some air. I'm going to go for a quick walk and will meet you in the sitting room before it's
time to go."

"Where are you going? Are you sure you're okay?"

Hermione waved dismissively. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew she had to get out of here. For
the first time since they'd arrive at the city, she truly felt the weight of being miles underwater, unable to breathe
fresh air or apparate. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm okay. I just…need some space. I'll be back
soon."

She grabbed her wand from the dresser and a light jacket she'd draped over her backpack and nearly ran out of the
suite. She had no idea where she was heading, just that she needed to be somewhere else.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was at the end of one of the bridges connecting the different areas of the hotel.
The bridges were made of bubbles, almost as tall as Hagrid, that were pressed against each other to make a
translucent tunnel connecting the larger glass bulbs. Hermione had found it unsettling when they'd first walked
across them the day before, fearing the bubbles wouldn't be strong enough to hold their weight.

They had swayed in the water as they walked across them, but held up fine, even when James had jumped on the
bridge to test its strength. For the past few minutes, Hermione had been standing at the end of the bridge, trying to
figure out how to breach the protective magic around the bubbles. She knew it was possible, since she'd already
watched several merpeople swim past her, push through the edge of the bubbles, and continue into the sea. But
every time she tried to put her hand through, the bubble bent with the pressure she applied and the translucent
wall stayed intact.

She was studying the output of a diagnostic spell she used often to identify the various elements of a foreign piece
of magic, when she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Hey."

Hermione dropped her wand and the multi-colored Runes and numbers that had been swirling around the air
disappeared. She took a deep breath before turning around to face Harry. "Hi."

"I am so sorry for whatever my mum said," he began in a rush. "She was only supposed to bring you breakfast. I
told her not to ambush you and—well—she won't tell me what you talked about but she clearly upset you, and I
can guess what she said and I—I don't want you to feel ganged up on, Hermione. We're nearing the end of our trip
and this…uh…'will they/won't they' thing is so complicated, and it's not even something we can resolve until
we're back home, anyway. I'm not trying to pressure you. I already talked to them, and I'm going to remind them
again not to—"

"It's fine," Hermione cut in. "She didn't corner me about us or anything like that. We were just talking about the
other Hermione's injury and I needed some, um, air."

Harry's brows knit together. "Did the topic of us being together come up?"

She averted her eyes, and he had his answer. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm going to talk to them. Again."

"They're not going to listen. They're convinced your happiness depends on us being together and will fight as
hard as they need to make that happen." She paused to give him a sad smile. "They love you, Harry."

He stepped forward and took her hands in his. "My happiness depends on you being in my life and I'm not going
to do anything to fuck that up. Friends above all else, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"How are you doing?" he asked, squeezing her hands. "You look really, really sad…and I'm worried about you."
 Hermione looked down at their hands, then said in a tentative voice. "I could use a hug."

Harry didn't waste any time. He dropped her hands and scooped her into his arms. She linked her arms through
his and gripped the back of his shoulders as she melted into him. He shifted to accommodate her and she thought
of the bubbles she'd been observing a few moment ago, which changed their shape when pressed together, filling
in any gaps to make a perfect fit.

Hermione immediately felt calmer. More centered than she had all morning. And maybe it was in her head, but
her injury hurt a little less.

Lily's voice echoed through her mind. "He was there, offering his whole heart to her…Why fight it?"

"Because of Ron!" Hermione's inner voice shouted back. "Because there's no reassurance that the conviction
Harry has now will remain when we're back. When his parents aren't pushing it anymore. When he sees Ginny
again. When he sees Ron and really considers all he has to lose. He won't pick you!"

Lily's words continued. "Improving her mind, making the world a better place, trying to get enjoyment out of life,
and loving Harry were her driving forces… They felt right to her."

"They feel right to you too, don't they?" a faint, kinder voice asked.

Hermione dipped her forehead against Harry's shoulder and breathed in his scent. His embrace felt solid and
familiar. It anchored her. He anchored her. He always had. All the biggest moments in her life began and ended
with him. Was it possible he was really that important to her happiness? Was this the truth she'd been searching
for since the war ended? Did that mean she'd never feel quite whole without him? What about Ron? This would
kill him.

She heard footsteps and reluctantly pulled away from Harry. Three wizards walked past them and Harry and
Hermione waved awkwardly. When they were alone again, Harry said, "What do you need, Hermione? Some
more time alone? Another hug? I can bring you something. A book. Tea. Maybe your notebook?"

"I'm okay, Harry. Really. I'm just having an off day. It happens."

He nodded slowly, unconvinced.

"Let's go. We have one more Wonder to see." She cocked her head to the right, in the direction of their suite.

Harry linked his arm with hers and guided her back to their room. As they walked, arm in arm, she wondered if
she could dedicate herself to loving him without being with him. Would that be enough? The thought broke her
heart. But not as much as the thought that as soon as they arrived at their next destination, she was going to have
to tell him something that would break his.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Continued thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustrations!

 Song of the Stars, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The Portkey transported them from the bottom of the ocean to the base of a mountain. Even with the Pressure
Stabilizing Potions Hermione had instructed everyone to drink before the Portkey activated, Harry felt nauseous
and light-headed when his feet touched solid ground. He immediately crouched down and pressed hard on his
temples as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to vomit.

It felt like the world was spinning around him. He reasoned he should open his eyes, figuring it would help to see
that he was, indeed, stationary, but it still took him several seconds to pry his eyes open. He was met with a
glorious sight, which he wished he wasn't too sick to appreciate.

He was on a rocky shore, surrounded by huge mountains that were jutting up out of the water. The water was so
still, it was like a mirror reflecting the image of the mountains. The sky was clear and the sun was falling toward
the horizon. As he breathed in the crisp air, his headache began to subside and after a few minutes, he felt well
enough to stand. That's when he realized he was alone.

"Hermione?! Mum! Dad!"

His chest clenched as he began to run along the shore. He found his dad a few paces away, emerging from behind
a tree. "Harry! Where are the girls?"

"Over here!" Lily called from behind a rock. Hermione appeared behind her, looking paler than normal, but
otherwise okay. The tightness in Harry's chest released. Lily conjured glasses of water for everyone and they all
took tentative sips as they walked back to the shore.

"That was extremely disorienting," James remarked, vanishing his empty glass.

Hermione simply nodded. "I knew it would be bad. It's a good thing we had the Potion, though I'd certainly
increase the dose if I were to ever do that again. Or rather, charter a boat to the surface and take a Portkey from
there."

"That would have been smart," Lily agreed.

Harry gestured to the scene around them. "This place is beautiful. Where are we, again? The Song of the Stars?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She removed her wand and performed a Navigation Spell, then motioned for them to
continue walking along the shore. "The Wonder is called the Song of the Stars, but the actual location is the
Lofoten Islands in Norway. The island we're on now, Hølen, is a magical island not visible to the Muggles. But all
these other islands," she gestured around them, "they can see."

Harry looked to their left where there was a smattering of buildings along the shore. It was impressive to think of
the wards around them that prevented all the people on that island from seeing this one. He wondered if
Muggleborn children would be able to see the island, when no one else in their family could, and was about to ask
Hermione when she said something that pushed the thought from his mind.

"Once we get the tent set up, I have something important to tell you all." Her eyes flashed to James and they
shared a look before Hermione glanced down at her feet.

"What?" Harry asked.

She ignored him and started talking about the time, explaining how it was just after 8:00 pm here but how they
wouldn't take Sleeping Potions, since the Wonder was something that could only be viewed at night. Since they
were so far north, it wouldn't become dark until around 10:00 pm, which gave them plenty of time to set up the
tent, eat lunch/dinner, and talk before going to see (or rather, hear) the Song of the Stars.

When she was finished with her explanation—which Harry guessed she had made as long-winded as possible to
avoid any more follow-up questions about her previous statement—Harry went to her side. "What's the important
thing you need to tell us?" he asked in a low voice.

She gave him a dismissive wave. "I'll tell you in the tent."

"But my dad already knows?" Harry pressed.

She ignored him and started talking about fjords and how they were formed, again pointing out how some of the
most magnificent wonders of the world were created by nature, rather than magic. Hermione was deliberately
avoiding him, refusing now to meet his eyes. Damn. This was a bad sign.

Fortunately, Harry didn't have long to worry over whatever important news Hermione might have for them, and
why she'd told his dad about it instead of him because a few moments later, they arrived at a clearing that was
crammed with magical tents.

"Wow. This is a popular destination," James said as Hermione guided them through the lines of tents.

Harry was reminded of the Wizarding World Cup he'd attended before his Fourth Year, which was the only other
time he'd seen this many tents in one place. Though the mood here was very different. The wizards they passed
were quiet and subdued, almost reverent, not loud and boisterous like the fans at the Quidditch World Cup. His
mind drifted to the events after the match, which had been loud in a whole other way. He pushed the dark
memories from his mind.

"This is the easiest Wonder to get to," Hermione was saying. "There are no mazes, no diving into the sea, no
walking on air or handing your wand over to giants. It's also close to Europe. All that makes this the most popular
Wonder, by far."

She stopped in front of a sign that read Row 12, Spot E in a bright green script. "This is our campsite," she
announced, stepping onto a spot of grass between two tents that looked barely large enough to contain their tent.

After confirming the tents on either side of them were empty, or at least that the wizards inside were not
interested in coming out and greeting their new neighbors, they worked on setting up their tent. They erected it in
record time, in large part due to Harry, who was eager to learn about this "important information" Hermione had
been keeping from him the whole trip.

He knew what he wanted it to be, but doubted she was going to announce to the group that she was in love with
him and had decided to break things off with Ron and give a relationship with Harry a try. Also, he wasn't even
sure if he was ready for that. He had no idea what state he'd be in after this trip. All he knew for certain was that
he was in love with Hermione and wanted her by his side, in whatever capacity she'd allow.

Currently, they were in the sitting room of the tent, in the same spots they'd occupied a few nights ago when
Harry and Hermione had told his parents about the war in their world. Harry pulled one leg up, so he was facing
Hermione on the couch, but she kept her gaze forward, on his parents. "I need to tell you all how Harry and I are
going to get back home," she began.

Harry leaned forward, his curiosity more peaked than before, which he hadn't thought possible. He'd asked her
about this a few times on the trip, wondering if they would have to get back into the Department of Mysteries
somehow or if she had some spell that could create the portal they'd jumped through. Every time, she brushed
him off, claiming they didn't need to worry about it until the end of their trip, while also assuring him that she did
know how to get back since she'd successfully made it out of this world twice before.

Hermione turned to Harry. She was nervous. He could tell by the way she was chewing her lip, and how her eyes
were darting around, settling on his side, his cheek, his nose. Anywhere but his eyes. The hair on his arms was
standing on end. This wasn't going to be good.
"Remember when I told you that time passed at the same rate in this world as it does in ours?" Hermione asked.
"That's why we were rushing to get here. I knew we had dinner with your parents at 6:30 pm and didn't want to be
late."

Harry nodded.

"Then I said when we return to our world, no time will have passed."

Harry nodded again.

"That makes no sense," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"We're in a completely different world in other people's bodies. None of this makes sense," Harry countered.
James snorted from across the room, but Harry ignored him and stayed focused on Hermione.

Hermione sighed, looking annoyed that he wasn't inherently getting whatever complicated concept she was trying
to explain. She raised her wand to Summon a parchment and pen from upstairs. When they flew into her hand a
few moments later, she drew a small circle on one end of the parchment and wrote the date they'd arrived next to
it. On the other side of the parchment, she drew another circle and labeled it with the date they'd be leaving, two
days from today. She drew a line between them and looked back up at Harry.

"Harry," she said gently, "the only way to ensure no time has passed when we return to our world is to do this
before we return." She folded the paper so the two circles she'd drawn were touching.

Harry cocked his head in confusion, looking at the curved loop of the edge of the parchment. Then, he got it. "But
that would mean…"

"You're going to go back in time?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Hermione said simply. "That's the only way to guarantee that this Harry and Hermione are unaffected by
our visit to this world. And to ensure we don't drive our loved ones mad with worry in our world, by disappearing
for two weeks."

Harry's brain was working hard to consider all the implications of what she'd just revealed. He was thinking of the
portal they'd jumped into in their old bodies. Is that where those bodies were now, floating around that strange
place of colorful shapes? Or were they still in the Department of Mysteries? Were the other Harry and Hermione's
souls floating around in that same portal? Were they alone and scared, or could they communicate with each other
somehow?

Harry thought of his parents and something niggled at the back of his mind. Before he could latch onto the
ominous thought and try to unravel it, his mum said, "We won't remember this."

Harry's head snapped back to Hermione. He felt his insides crumbling and he was glad he was sitting since he
didn't think his legs would be able to support him right now. "Is that true?" The words sounded strange and raspy
and he wondered if his voice had dissolved along with the rest of his insides.

Hermione was bent over the parchment. She tore it about an inch above where she drew the line and folded the
paper again, so the two circles were touching. Then she picked up her pen and drew a second line starting from
the first circle along the unfolded part of the page. "This line here will commence once we return home, like a
divergence from the timeline we're currently on. The other Harry and Hermione will go to dinner and then, uh,
start their trip."

"And us?" Harry asked.

"We're on this loop here," Hermione explained. "We'll return home and our lives will continue back in our world
from the point we left it. And we'll remember it all."

"But they won't," Harry said. He looked at his parents. Lily looked angry and James looked resigned.
"Technically, they will remember. But, uh, this timeline will sort of...end. When we take Harry and Hermione's
bodies out of this world, we'll create a sort of time paradox and everything will kind of break. This small, two-
week loop will remain just that, a two-week loop. And this other line here," she tapped her pen on the second,
longer line she'd drawn on the straight piece of parchment, "is where James and Lily will continue to live out their
lives, with the other Harry and Hermione. It's the safest way, Harry," she ended in a pleading tone.

His vision blurred as tears stung his eyes. All of it, the games, the jokes, the experiences they'd shared. All that
time they'd spent getting to know Harry. Hours of conversations, the most notable of which had happened right
here, were going to be erased. His parents would know nothing about him and would go on with their lives,
blissfully unaware of his existence.

Harry had been clinging to the hope as the trip came to a close, that even after he returned to his world, he'd know
his parents were out there, somewhere, and knew him, and that they'd think of him, on occasion, and the time
they shared. But now…that hope was gone. And Hermione had known the whole time.

"You knew," Lily said from across the room.

Harry was confused. Of course, Hermione knew. What was she talking about? But Lily wasn't looking at
Hermione. She was looking at James, who had his head in his hands.

He nodded, then looked up and said roughly, "She showed me a memory that night when they told us where they
came from. She was breaking into the Department of Mysteries and using a Time Turner to go back in time. Once
in the past, she stepped into a large portal—the same one I saw in Harry's mind—to return to her world. That's
how she was certain our Harry and Hermione were going to be unaffected. Because it would be like it had never
happened."

Lily was angry, that much was obvious by the look of fury in her eyes, but she seemed to be trying to decide who
to direct it at. After a silent conversation with James, where they shared words with facial expressions and hand
gestures, Lily reached out and grabbed his hand, then focused her glare at Hermione.

Hermione cowered slightly, hunching her shoulders, but Harry didn't have any sympathy for her. She should have
told him from the start.

"How does all this work?" Lily asked, her tone harsh. "Explain it."

Hermione took the opportunity to give everyone a lesson on dimension travel, but Harry was barely listening. As
she described the different ways to hop through dimensions (Apparition, for traveling through three dimensions,
time travel for making your way through the fourth dimension, and finally, universe hopping for the fifth
dimension—which was commonly referred to by Unspeakables as the 'mystic dimension' or the dimensions of
'what ifs and if onlys'), Harry seethed.

Why had she kept this from him? She knew him better than anyone. She must have known he was relying on his
parents remembering. She should have told him the truth up front then he wouldn't have allowed himself to hope.

"For all levels of dimension travel," she was saying, eyeing Harry warily, as if he was about to explode, "you can
travel with or without your body. In this case, I chose to come without our old bodies, since it would have been
problematic if the other Harry and Hermione saw us. Also, we never would have been able to pass as them,
especially with Harry's scar."

She stopped and looked at Harry, though not directly in his eyes. She seemed to be expecting him to chime in, but
he just continued to glare at her. "When we go back in time, we'll need to use a Time Turner, so as not to disturb
the bodies of the other Harry and Hermione," Hermione continued. "Then we'll jump into the portal back into our
world and these bodies will just sort of... cease to exist. I was worried we might encounter my past self doing the
same sort of thing, trying to get back home, but I've already done this twice and that didn't happen. I believe every
time I come here, a separate world is created."

Harry's blood was boiling now. Hermione had it all figured out, didn't she? She had an explanation for everything.
He wondered if she had an explanation for lying to him too.
Hermione lifted her head and met his eyes for the first time. They were swimming with guilt and sorrow, but he
was too angry to care. She placed a hand on his arm and he jumped to his feet, tearing out of her grasp.

"Harry—"

"No," he said sharply, cutting her off, his voice breaking on the word.

He stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, eager to put as much distance between them as possible.
When he reached his room, he threw the flap closed, annoyed when the only sound it made was an
unsatisfying swish.

Harry was marching around the bedroom, pulling at his hair, as his brain cycled through all his favorite moments
he'd shared with his parents on this trip, and how they were going to forget them. The first time he'd hugged each
of them at their house in Godric's Hollow, when he'd flown with his dad in the Enchanted Forest, watching
Hermione and his mum play with the Fire Lizards, the conversation he'd had with Lily later that night about kids.

Hermione appeared in the doorway, cowering, which made her look smaller than normal. Harry stopped to give
her his most hateful glare, then resumed his pacing.

"Harry."

"Go away," he bit out.

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I thought—"

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me what you're thinking?!" he shouted. "It's too late! You've been keeping things
from me this whole trip, only releasing details a little at a time, and I've been patient—I know you're used to
keeping secrets, as an Unspeakable, but we've already established you're not one anymore and this—this is huge!
You should have told me!"

"I thought it would be better if you didn't know!" she yelled back.

"Why do you do this?! Why do you act like I'm going to shatter at any moment?! I can handle hard things,
Hermione. This whole trip you've been treating me more like a child than a partner."

"You're not my partner."

"Really? Shit. I'd forgotten," he said sarcastically.

"You know what? I think you have," she retorted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "This isn't about that. You know what I meant."

"Isn't it? You're telling me this sudden rash of anger has nothing to do with the other stuff?"

"You're deflecting. Now tell me, why are you like this? So closed off?"

She shrugged.

"Tell me!" he pressed.

"Oh, so now you're interested in my work," she said sardonically. "Normally when I start talking about anything
more complicated than basic Charms, everyone in the room stops listening. 'There she goes again, spouting off
random facts about house elves and Arithmancy formulas and Runes. I better start running through all the
Quidditch plays I know.'"

"That's not fair—"

"When everyone tunes you out, you stop speaking up."

Had he done that? Yeah, probably. But still, it was beside the point. "Maybe that happens in a group," Harry
countered, "but not when it's just you and me, like it's been this whole trip. If you gave me a chance instead of
assuming I'm a prick, you'd see that I'm actually very attentive."

She crossed her arms over her chest and said snippily, "I wouldn't know. Before this trip, we never spent time
alone. Then to go from that to—to what you said a few nights ago."

Harry tried to ignore how much the fact that she couldn't say the words hurt. "That I'm in love with you?" he
provided, nastily.

She just sneered.

Harry summoned his anger again, drawing it around him like a cloak to protect him from the pain threatening to
creep in at Hermione's dismissive attitude. "I know you blame me for that," Harry continued, "for us not being
close before, but you're to blame there too."

Hermione sighed. "Are we really going to rehash this again?"

"You were right about some stuff. I was a shit friend and I took you for granted, but you weren't great either. You
never reached out. You never told me you were upset and—"

"I'd had enough!" Hermione cried. "We already went over this! It's always me and I was sick of it always being
me. I wanted you to do something for a change. I wanted you to notice! I wanted you to miss me! I wanted you to
drop by my flat and say, 'Hey, what happened here? What can we do to fix it?'"

"What about Ron?" Harry asked.

"What about Ron?" she challenged.

"You accused me of being more forgiving toward Ron and it's the same for you, isn't it? I'm sure he's taken you
for granted—I'm sure he's tuned you out, but you didn't put distance between the two of you. You were harsher on
me than you were on him. Why?"

"He's my fiancé!" she cried.

"I fucking know that!" he shouted back. "But the point still stands that you didn't punish him for doing the same
things I did! But you sure as hell punished me! You still are! And I think it's because you wanted to put distance
here." He motioned to the space between them. "I think you felt something here, even back at home."

Hermione scoffed. "So much for not pressuring me into making a decision about us." She checked her watch.
"That barely lasted an hour."

Harry ignored the jibe. "You've been moping because you're so sad and alone, but it's your own fault! You did
that! I've been here, literally begging you to let me in, but you refuse. And yes, a lot of that is my fault, but some
of it is yours. I think you got a hint of this…thing between us back in our world and I think you got scared. You
pulled back and you waited to see if I would follow—"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry spoke over her. "—and I was a prick and I didn't and you
decided you were done. You drew a line here to protect yourself—," he gestured between them, "—but there's
something there."

Harry sighed and took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He tentatively touched his fingers to her
heart. "There's something here, fighting back. It's the thing that drove you to bring me here. The thing that made
you see me in the mist, and no one else. The thing that caused you to kiss me when you woke up and sends you
into my arms when you're feeling down."

Hermione lowered her eyes. Harry put the hand that was touching her shirt down and gripped her hand, entwining
his fingers with hers.
"You think no one cares what you're thinking," he continued, his voice gentle now, "but you're wrong. I care. Do
you know how much time I've spent trying to guess your thoughts over the past two weeks?"

Hermione kept her head down and looked up at him through her long lashes. She looked scared and hurt and he
felt bad for yelling at her. She was right, as usual. His anger wasn't all about the secret she'd kept from him. He'd
taken all the frustration that had been growing inside him for days and lashed out at her.

Harry took a deep, calming breath before continuing. "Tell me what you're thinking," he said softly. "I won't tune
you out. It'll be the opposite, actually. I'll be listening intently." He cocked his head toward her backpack, which
he knew held the notebook. "I may even take notes."

Hermione's lips turned up slightly. She looked down at their hands and thankfully, didn't pull hers away.

"What are you thinking, Hermione? Do you spend the seconds between breaths trying to avoid thoughts of me?
How often do you think about our kiss? Do you want to do it again? Does it scare you how much?"

Harry reached for her other hand and linked their fingers together. "How much do you think about that missing
thing you were searching for back at home? The thing that drove you to become an Unspeakable. Have you
considered the possibility that it wasn't some unknowable force of magic you were trying to discover, but simply
the fact that you were with the wrong wizard, in the wrong job, living the wrong type of life?"

"Harry," she whispered. Hermione was looking at him now, her eyes wide and pleading as silent tears streamed
down her face. She didn't seem to have anything else to add.

"What'll be different when we go back?" Harry asked. "Are you going to stay with Ron? Are you going to put real
distance between us? Try to cut me out completely, or perhaps move somewhere I can't follow?"

She shook her head slowly, then looked back down at their hands. "No," she breathed.

They were quiet for several moments, then Hermione repeated, louder this time, "No." Her eyes snapped back up
to his face.

"You said you needed me in your life to be happy and it's the same for me, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." She
pulled him into a firm hug. "Please don't worry about me. I know this thing between us is weighing on you but try
to let it go—at least for the next day. You already admitted that you're cross with me for taking up so much of
your thoughts and you're right to be. We're going to be fine and this... situation, or whatever we're calling it—we
can figure out back at home."

She leaned back and placed her hands on his face. "Let's focus on your parents for the rest of the trip. Okay?"

"You're deflecting again."

She smiled. "I know. But I think that's the right thing to do, for now."

"Just tell me why."

Hermione pulled her hands away from his face and stepped back. "I've already told you."

"Because you don't trust me. You don't think I'm telling the truth. You think I'm lying about how I feel about you
and will change my mind once we're back."

"I think you're going through a lot right now and would prefer to discuss this when we're back in our time, after
you've had a chance to process this whole trip and—and everything," Hermione countered.

"Yeah." Harry sat on the bed and lowered his head into his hands. "I hate how logical you are," he groaned.

"I get that a lot."

Harry turned his head toward Hermione. "Is this really the only way?" he asked in a broken voice.
She nodded sadly. "It's best if we don't leave a trace on this world. I'm so sorry, Harry. It's the safest way. I don't
know what's happening with the other Harry and Hermione and would hate if they're unable to return to their
bodies after we leave for some reason."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. The other Harry." He sighed. "Can I tell you something I've been thinking about lately?"

Hermione leaned back on her hands. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking a lot about the other Harry, especially as the trip is coming to an end. And I hate the fucking
wanker—for obvious reasons—but lately…I've been rethinking things. I thought he was immature and naïve, and
I couldn't bring myself to respect the bloke much. On the other hand, he picked an incredible partner, he put her
first, and he never left her wondering if he really loves her. So I guess…I don't know. I guess he's not as thick as I
thought."

Hermione sat up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I thought we were going to defer these types of
conversations until we're back."

Harry shrugged. "I never agreed to that. But—yeah—we should. You're right, of course. I just—wanted to get that
last one off my chest."

Hermione nodded. She chewed her lip for several seconds, then leaned forward and rested her forehead on her
hand, which was still on his shoulder. "You had a lot more going on than the other Harry. I've actually been
wondering about him, too, but for different reasons. I've been wondering why Hermione likes him, because some
of the things I love and respect most about you are a result of your circumstances, and how you managed to rise
above them."

She lifted her head and found him watching her, his green eyes intense. She thought of his joke about listening to
her so intently, he might start taking notes and smiled inwardly.

"I'm sure this Harry is nice and all," Hermione continued, "but I prefer the one who was raised with nothing and
craved acceptance when he first arrived at school, yet still refused Malfoy's friendship. The one who was beaten
down by the world, one blow after another, but who still walked into the forest, willing to give his life to save it.
The other Harry didn't do that. You did. And I think you should be proud."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes. How was this fair? How was she allowed to say things like that one moment, then
claim she had no feelings for him the next? How had he missed this back at home?

Her voice echoed in his mind, in response. "You had a lot more going on than the other Harry."

No fucking shit, his own voice said in reply. But because of all that, he'd missed the signs. He hadn't seen what
was right in front of him and it might already be too late. He'd missed her. He'd just add it to the long list of things
he'd lost because Voldemort had decided that prophecy applied to him and not Neville.

He was crying fully now as his thoughts drifted back to his parents, who he'd have to say goodbye to soon.
Hermione was right, he should be focusing on them, but a part of him was probably fixating on this thing with
Hermione to avoid doing just that. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. No matter what, they'd always be friends.
She'd confirmed it several times. But his parents…they would leave him. Again.

The darkness that had been hovering at the edges, threatening for days to break through the barriers he'd erected,
finally overtook him. Harry shook as sobs tore through his body. He felt Hermione fold herself around him and
tried to focus on her warmth. "I'm…a…a…fuck—fucking mess," he managed to say between sobs.

"It's perfectly reasonable for you to be a fucking mess," she replied calmly. "You are in an insane situation,
Harry."

He continued to sob and Hermione started rubbing his back, murmuring in his ear about how strong he was. How
he'd endured so much pain and come through it whole and how he could do it again. How he would do it again.
She apologized for not telling him about his parents and how they would forget their time together. She said that
just because they wouldn't have a memory of it, didn't mean it wasn't real. This tiny two-week loop they'd created
in this universe would remain a part of existence, no matter what happened.

"Is me being here helping or hurting?" she asked after several moments.

"I don't fucking know," Harry admitted.

"Okay. I'll stay, then."

Harry looked up at her. He was a little surprised to find that she'd been crying, too, though not as violently as he
had been. "How am I supposed to say goodbye?" he asked, his voice so small and weak, he barely recognized it.

"I don't know, Harry. But we've done impossible things before and we can do it again."

Harry leaned into her, pressing his face into her shirt, which was nice and soft. He breathed in her scent and tried
to use her closeness to steady him.

"We never placed any Charms around the room," she said after a while. "They'll have heard all the shouting."

"Doesn't matter. They're going to forget it all, anyway," Harry mumbled into her chest.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him. "I think it's too soon for that one."

He laughed darkly. "Yeah. You're probably right."

When Harry and Hermione returned downstairs a while later, after Harry claimed he was officially out of tears,
they found Lily and James waiting for them. They were sitting on the couch, James in the spot Hermione had
recently occupied and Lily in Harry's seat, with her legs stretched out over James's lap.

Lily shifted when she looked over her shoulder and saw Harry and Hermione standing there, then placed her feet
back on the ground. "Oh, good. You're back. We have something to tell you."

"Oh. Er—okay," Harry said warily, wondering if he could take any more unexpected news today.

"This is for Hermione, not you," Lily said, obviously picking up on his uneasiness.

Harry let out a sigh of relief as Hermione stepped forward.

"We're going with you," Lily said simply.

"What do you mean? There would be nowhere for you to go. Uh—I don't mean to sound indelicate, but your
bodies are decaying underground. Who knows what would happen if—"

"Not there," James said, cutting her off. "We're going back in time with you. We've decided. We'll go back to the
past, retain all the memories of our time with you, then redo the trip with the other Harry and Hermione."

"You decided?" Hermione shook her head. "That won't even work. You can't use the Time Turner because then
your bodies would be copied and—"

"We're going to use the method of time travel that works without bringing our bodies with us. The one you were
explaining before," Lily said. "Our minds will take over the past James and Lily's bodies, like you did when you
came to this world."

"Yes," James said firmly, rising from his seat and moving to stand in front of them. Lily joined him a few seconds
later.

"You're not allowed to decide," Hermione declared. "I'm the Unspeakable here and I—"
 "You're not an Unspeakable in this world," James interrupted. "In this world, we're the parents, and we're in
charge. We've decided that in two days, we're all going to go to the Department of Mysteries. You're going to
show us the time portal and Lily and I will use it to travel back to our bodies from two weeks ago. You and Harry
will use a Time Turner to travel back to that same time, then we'll meet up and say a final goodbye before you
two go back to your world."

"After that," Lily added, "we'll return home to meet the other Harry and Hermione for dinner."

"You don't understand," Hermione said, looking thoroughly exasperated. "This is dangerous. No one knows the
long-term effects of—"

"We're willing to take the risk," Lily said simply.

"You could suffer from dissociative issues down the line. Your younger consciousness could threaten to creep
back in and—"

"We don't want to hear it," Lily said, raising her voice to be heard over Hermione. "We're going back in time,
we're going to remember, end of discussion." Lily stepped forward and raised a hand to Harry's cheek. "I don't
care what the risks are. I refuse to forget you. I'm going to think about you every day."

As it turned out, Harry did have more tears left to shed, but only a few. Lily wiped them away with her thumbs as
soon as they fell onto his cheeks. "Thanks," he whispered.

Lily smiled and kissed his cheek.

Then Harry looked at Hermione and gave her his most endearing look. She rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like
that," she scowled, but it was half-hearted.

"Please?" he mouthed.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I don't approve, for the record. I think this is dangerous and—"

"We heard you before," James cut in. Lily stepped to the side and James took her place, giving Harry's shoulder a
firm squeeze. "You okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. I just spent an hour shouting and crying about something that's not even happening—but
—er—I've been worse."

James let out a laugh. "We were shouting and crying too if that makes you feel better. You just couldn't hear us
over your yelling." James stepped back and addressed the whole group. "Shall we have dinner, then? Or lunch or,
whatever it is? Then we have a song to hear, don't we?"

He didn't bother waiting for confirmation from Hermione, who was still seething from having been so thoroughly
overruled. As she followed Harry and his parents into the kitchen, Harry heard her muttering under her breath
about "stubborn Potters." He turned around and beamed at her and when he caught her eye, she grudgingly
returned his smile.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: And here goes Harry again, cycling through a torrent of emotions. It makes sense; he has a lot going
on. Confusing feelings for Hermione, worry about what will happen with Ron and Ginny, sorrow for his
parents, jealousy toward other Harry, and anger toward Hermione for this stupid denial thing she's doing.
And while all of this is going on, he has this pressure in the back of his mind to HAVE FUN because he only
has a few days left with his parents.
This resonates with me. There's nothing worse than feeling the pressure to be happy and enjoy the moment
when you're not feeling it. Anyway, all that to say that I feel you, Harry! Also - the feelings in this story got
away from me a bit. I never really meant for it to be this sad and angsty. Sorry about that. Relief is coming.

Thank you for bearing with me for the explanation of dimension travel, which I'm sure was painful to
anyone who knows real things about Physics. I'm just an engineer who pretends to know things, then fills in
any gaps with, "but don't forget...magic!"

And I know their fights are getting repetitive but I believe this is realistic. When I'm at an impasse with my
spouse, we end up having the same arguments over and over again. And no matter what we start fighting
about, it always comes back to "the issue." Like I said, it will get better.
 Song of the Stars, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

After dinner, the group donned their cloaks and marched out of the tent, following a line of witches and wizards
up the path toward the shadow of a mountain in the distance. "What are we about to see?" James asked as they
walked.

Hermione turned around and smiled at him. "Have you ever heard of the Northern Lights?"

"I have not," James replied.

"I have!" Lily exclaimed. "Oh, is that what we're seeing? Are they magical? I knew it! I visited them with my
family when I was a girl, but not here, in Finland. And I knew they were magical! There was this music no one
else could hear and it was like—inside me and no one believed me and my sister—well…" She trailed off, then
gave Harry a small smile and linked her arm in his.

"She's the worst," Harry said. "It's crazy to me that you were raised by the same people."

"I say that all the time," James added.

Lily gripped Harry's arm tighter. "She wasn't that bad growing up. She turned bitter later. I think she was jealous
about not having magic and Vernon, well, once she ended up with him, I knew there was no hope for her. Poor
Tuney."

She turned to Harry and said in a harsh tone, "I'm talking about my Petunia here. Your Petunia I despise and have
absolutely no sympathy for. I don't know if you still see her out of a sense of duty or something, but if so, you can
stop. You owe her nothing."

A hint of shame washed over Harry, but it was small. He was getting better at viewing his time with the Dursleys
as an unfortunate event from his past, one he'd moved past, rather than a blotch on his history that he should be
ashamed of. The matter-of-fact way both of his parents had managed the topic helped. Also, Hermione's words,
which he thought of often.

He nodded as he looked back at his mum, swallowing back a lump in his throat. "I do—er—see them, once a
year. Maybe I'll stop. Or just see Dudley."

"I fully support both decisions," Lily said. "Blood doesn't make family, Harry. Love does. And just because you
don't have blood relations in your day-to-day life doesn't mean you don't have a family."

Harry felt a pang in his chest as he thought of the Weasleys and if they'd still be his surrogate family after he
called off his wedding. But the pain lessened considerably when Hermione chimed in with, "She's right. I'm part
of that non-blood family of yours."

"Maybe you should get married and make that official," James quipped, which earned him glares from both Harry
and Hermione. James raised his palms in surrender. "Okay, okay. No talk of you two getting together, even
though you're obviously in love—"

"—and balance each other perfectly," Lily added, "and would have—"

"Mum," Harry said warningly.

"Okay, change of topic. Tell us more about these lights, Hermione."

Hermione picked up the topic eagerly, but she didn't seem upset. When Harry shot her an apologetic smile a few
moments later, she just shrugged and gave him a look that said, "Parents. What are you going to do?"
As soon as they passed around the curve of the mountain, the group let out a collective gasp. "Bloody hell,"
James murmured as he stared up at the sky, the colors from the lights ahead reflecting off his glasses.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Here we are. The Northern Lights, as the Muggles call them, or the Song of the Stars,
our term for them."

"Where does the song part come into play?" Harry asked as he stared in awe at the sky. There were several swaths
of colorful light glowing in the night sky, looking as if they were painted by some deity. The primary color was
green, but on the edges, Harry could see pink, purple, yellow, and blue. The more he looked, the more colors he
saw.

As Harry stared at the lights, the low rumble of a song began to play in his head, causing his body to vibrate from
within. He jumped in alarm and the next moment, the song was gone. He saw Hermione watching him with a
smile. "Did you feel it?"

Harry nodded. "Was that the song?"

She smiled and gestured for them to continue walking. "Let's find a spot to lie down."
They made their way to the base of the grassy mountain where wizards were spreading blankets out and lying
down on them before turning to face the brilliant sky. They found a spot between an Indian couple who were
wearing colorful silk robes that almost matched the lights in the sky and two blonde women wearing Muggle
clothes.

Lily, James, and Harry greeted the two couples, using hand gestures once they realized they didn't speak English,
while Hermione pulled the blankets out of their packs. James and Harry took the spots on the outside, out of
habit, while the girls laid down in between them.
"Okay, Hermione," James said, "what are we seeing?"

"This phenomenon is created because of disturbances in the magnetosphere caused by solar wind," Hermione
began. "It causes these lights, but also some sounds that even Muggles can hear, sort of like claps and crackles."

"And the music?" Harry asked.

As he focused on the lights, that music appeared deep in his body again. It was like no song he'd ever heard, low
and sorrowful, with an undertone of hope. The longer he listened to it, the more complicated the song grew. There
was a layer that was beautiful and rich, that reminded Harry of how he felt when Hermione beamed at him. There
was a clipped layer that reminded Harry of the feeling of running from danger, and even a part of the symphony
that sounded like an angry crash. The closest thing Harry had ever encountered was Phoenix song, in the way it
evoked emotion, but this was more intense.

"Very little is known about exactly what's going on here," Hermione said, her voice low and reverent, "but it's
believed to be some sort of interaction between the changes in the magnetosphere and our magic. And the music
—if you can call it that—since it's more of a feeling, than a sound—is said to perfectly mirror your emotions."
She cut off with a heavy sigh.

Harry turned to face her and saw a tear fall down her cheek. He wondered what sort of symphony she was
hearing. She gave him a small smile, then finished with, "The wizards of old didn't understand what this was
when they discovered it, so they called it simply, 'the Song of the Stars.' It wasn't until fairly recently, within the
past century, that a team of wizards in Greenland figured out that everyone hears a different song."

The group was quiet as they looked back at the sky, each focusing on the songs playing deep in their chests. With
the context Hermione had given, Harry heard his symphony in a new light. In countless layers of sound, he was
able to pick out four primary harmonies. One reminded him of Ginny, a beautiful high-pitched flute that seemed
to be crying in pain, creating a feeling of intense guilt in Harry's gut.

Ron's song was like Ginny's, but lower and more complicated, inciting a mix of fear, pain, guilt, jealousy, and
affection in Harry. Hermione's song was gorgeous and powerful, just like her. Like a blast of a full string quartet,
laced with an undercurrent of fear, similar to the beating of a low drum.

Harry focused on his parents' part of the symphony last, which was playing the loudest. A song of love, loss, and
longing. As he homed in on that part, tears fell down his face. He closed his eyes and the music stopped and he
took several breaths, relieved to have a break from the intensity of the feelings churning inside him.

When Harry opened his eyes again, he didn't try to pick out the parts of the song but focused on it as a whole. It
was complicated, stunning, and covered every range of emotions he'd ever experienced. It was him in a song and
as Harry listened to it, he felt a rush of self-compassion, which wasn't a common feeling for him.

With all the melodies playing inside him, competing for attention, it was okay to be confused. It was okay to be a
fucking mess, just as Hermione had said back at the tent. As Harry listened to the intricate harmonies, weaving
and changing even while he lay there, he felt more at peace than he had in a while.

He was reminded of Teddy, and how he looked when he was overwhelmed, shouting at the top of his lungs, eyes
wide and pleading as tears streamed down his face, and how Harry would pat his back and say softly, "It's okay,
Teddy. Everything's confusing now, but you'll get there. You're okay."

Then he thought of Hermione, the place where his thoughts always landed, and what she'd said to him in
Egypt. "You're allowed to break down; you have a lot going on. But you're not allowed to beat yourself up about
it. Just—go easy on yourself. Okay?"

Harry sent the stars a silent thank you. I needed the reminder that sometimes everything is hard, and that that's
okay, he said in his mind. Thank you for that. It was very timely.

James was the first to break the trance. Once he started speaking, Harry closed his eyes to stop the music, so he
could hear him better.
"Was it like this when you visited with your parents?" James was asking his mum.

"It wasn't this powerful," Lily replied. "Hermione said it's linked to our magic, so that makes sense. I was eight
and didn't have as much magic as I do now. Enough to cause little bursts here and there, but that's it."

Everyone was quiet and Harry wondered if they were remembering their own accidental bursts of magic. He was
thinking of the time he'd ended up on the roof of the school and how the teachers had assumed he'd been floated
up there by a gust of wind. How preposterous. Some people were desperate to cling to their beliefs, even when
the facts contradicted them. Again, he thought of Hermione and her claim that their feelings for each other
weren't real.

"I was scared," Lily continued. Harry focused back on her voice. "I knew I was different and that night in
Finland, when we visited the Northern Lights, that was sort of a turning point for me. When I knew definitively
that I was different. The next summer, I met Severus. And I know you hate him," she added quickly, "but he was
good for me. He introduced me to a world where I belonged. He helped me with that transition and you can hate
him all you want, but I would have had a much harder time without him."

Lily paused to sigh. Harry turned his head and saw that she was lying in the crook of his dad's arm. Her eyes were
closed, as were his dad's and Hermione's.

"At that point in your life," Lily said softly, "you're so young and scared. You're not quite a child, but nowhere
close to an adult. It's already hard, then you add this and it's...a lot. You're learning who you are and you find out
this insane truth about yourself, something you missed. Then you start to doubt yourself and wonder what else
you missed. It completely throws you off. I've always thought they should tell Muggleborns sooner than eleven.
Eleven...eleven is hard. Luckily, I had a head start."

Harry felt Hermione shift. "You're right, Lily. You explained that well. And I agree, they should tell Muggleborns
sooner. Give them and their families time to adjust to the idea."

Harry opened his eyes and saw his dad turn his head toward him and Hermione. "I've never thought about it, since
I've always known, but you two went through that too, didn't you?"

Harry and Hermione nodded. James looked back down at Lily. "I'm sorry I was an arrogant toerag who didn't
have a clue what you were going through."

She let out a small laugh. "You got better. We can't all be perfect. Especially not at eleven."

He kissed her forehead. "Just you. Even at eleven." James settled back on the blanket and wrapped his other arm
around Lily. "We've been together for over twenty years and you've never told me that."

"We need to leave some things unsaid. Some mystery to keep the romance alive."

James snorted, then kissed the top of her head again. He bent down and said in her ear, so low, Harry could barely
make out the words, "What sort of songs are you hearing, Lil?"

"Try to guess," she whispered back.

James lowered his voice further, so Harry could no longer hear him, before responding. Harry understood. It was
a very personal question. He turned his head to face Hermione, who still had her eyes closed. What was her song
like? He was sure it was complicated, like his. Had she found that same sort of peace he had when faced with the
enormity of his feelings? The reassurance that it was okay to be lost; okay to not have the answers all the time.

Hermione turned her head to face him, then slowly opened her eyes. She didn't look surprised to find him
watching her. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi. I think this is my favorite Wonder."

She smiled. "I like it too, but I also liked the forest. And the Sanctuary. I think all three are tied for first."
"Not the dragons? Even with the Fire Lizards who loved you?"

She scoffed. "The ones who pushed me into the mist a few days later? Not to mention all the times I had to face
my fear of heights at that place." She shuddered slightly.

"I know," Harry laughed. "I was kidding." He lowered his voice. "Hey, er, about what my mum said...how long
was it before you felt like you belonged in our world?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked down at Harry's shirt as she considered the question. "I think the troll was a big
turning point," she said eventually, "but that was just because I finally had friends." She raised her eyes and gave
him a small smile. "But fitting into the whole world… that was gradual and still… I'll say something muggle and
people will stare and—I don't know. I feel like an outsider, even after all these years."

Harry reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry if any of that is due to me being an arrogant toerag at any point in
our friendship."

She let out a breath of a laugh. "It's not. It just comes with being a Muggleborn. It's not your fault. And you sort
of get it; at least, more than most people."

"Sort of… but not really. Living in the world for ten years and being Muggleborn aren't the same, are they?
People don't see me as a Muggleborn, like they see you."

She smiled again and moved her other hand on top of his, so she was holding it with both hands now. "I like how
you know that."

"I told you I can be attentive."

"Yeah. I suppose you did."

"What's your song like?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence.

"Layered," she whispered. "Though probably not as layered as yours."

"Probably not," he agreed. "I certainly have more emotional range than a teaspoon."

Her smile widened. "More even than a teacup. Probably even more than a whole kitchen."

Harry squeezed her hand. "I like how you know that." He opened his mouth to say more, then closed it, resigning
himself to tell her silently, instead.

I love you. I can't imagine finding anyone else in the world I can share this level of understanding with. And even
if I could find them, I wouldn't want to. You're more than enough. Always have been, always will be. And now that
I know, I'm never going to let you go.

He told her all of this with his eyes and even without hearing the words, she understood him.

The group stayed under the colorful night sky for hours, taking breaks from staring at the lights and listening to
their personal song of the stars to share stories from their respective worlds.

Hermione told Lily and James about Rita Skeeter and how she'd tormented Harry throughout the Triwizard
Tournament, glossing over the part about Hermione's supposed love triangle with Harry and Krum. Then she told
them how she got revenge by trapping Skeeter in a jar for two months, then threatening to turn her in for being an
unregistered Animagus if she ever wrote another unkind word about her or one of her friends.

"Merlin," James said. "Good thing our Hermione isn't so hostile toward unregistered Animagi."

"She was nice to Sirius," Harry chimed in. "It's just people who threaten her friends who need to watch out." That
earned him a pretty smile. Weren't all Hermione's smiles pretty?
Harry told them about Umbridge's reign, which Hermione had glossed over during her initial explanation of what
had happened that year. This time, Harry covered everything, from the dementors Umbridge had sent to Privet
Drive, to the countless educational decrees, to the abhorrent detentions, to Hermione's clever trick of trapping her
in the forest with the centaurs, which had almost backfired on them.

"We know that name, Umbridge, she was in charge of rounding up Muggleborns. But she didn't spend any time at
Hogwarts, here," Lily said when Harry was finished with his story. "Is she in jail in your world?"

"No," Harry growled. "She left the country since Kingsley wouldn't let her work at the Ministry anymore, but she
got away with everything."

Lily scoffed and James placed a calming hand on her arm. "My main takeaway from both stories is that it's
prudent to stay on Hermione's good side," he joked. "Otherwise, you might end up trapped in a jar or handed over
to vicious centaurs.

"Centaurs aren't vicious," Hermione said automatically.

James lifted his head. "Oh yeah? Why did you choose centaurs, then, to punish this old bat? Because of their
notoriously cuddly nature? Just like Pygmy Puffs."

Hermione was about to retort when Harry cut in, eager to avoid an argument tonight. "You don't know the half of
it," Harry grinned, nudging Hermione in the side. "That same year, when we'd set up Dumbledore's Army,
Hermione cursed the sign-up sheet. So when Marietta turned us in, pimples appeared across her face that
spelled SNEAK."

"You didn't!" Lily exclaimed.

"I did. Serves her right for turning us in. Because of her Dumbledore was sent away. The pimples are still there,"
Hermione said proudly. "She's written to me a few times, begging me to remove them, but I just keep returning
the owls."

"Ruthless," James murmured. "In a good way. I love it."

"There's more," Harry added, smiling widely now. "She set Snape on fire when she thought he was messing with
my broom at my first Quidditch match."

"You set a professor on fire only months into your first year?" James asked while Lily asked at the same time,
"Why was he messing with your broom?"

"Yes," Hermione said to James, then to Lily, "It was Quirrell messing with his broom. We thought it was Snape,
but he was only trying to help."

"She also slapped Draco Malfoy in Third Year for being rude to Hagrid," Harry continued, ready to move past the
subject of Snape. "But none of that compared to all the stuff she did in the war." He paused to smile at Hermione.
Even in the dim light, he could tell she was blushing slightly.

"She got us out of loads of dangerous situations," Harry said, looking her right in the eye as he spoke. "But I think
the most impressive moment was when she impersonated Bellatrix Lestrange to get us into Gringotts. And that
was just weeks after she'd been tortured by the madwoman." He lowered his voice and grabbed the part of
Hermione's forearm that held the scars from that day, when she was in her other body. "You're the strongest
person I know."

"Thanks," she mouthed.

"I think it's time you told us the full story of that Gringotts break-in," James announced. "All you said before was
that a goblin helped you and that you escaped on a dragon. But there's clearly more to the story."

"Agreed," Lily chimed in. "But first, I want to echo what Harry said. You are remarkable, Hermione, and an
impressive witch like yourself needs an equally impressive wizard at her side."
"Mum," Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"I would be honored to have you as a daughter-in-law one day, even across worlds," Lily continued, ignoring
Harry. "I know you need time and—"

"Mum, I won't hesitate to silence you," Harry warned. "And you heard all Hermione is capable of. I wouldn't
upset her if I were you."

"Fine," Lily sighed. "Go on and tell us this Gringotts story."

Harry whispered an apology to Hermione, but she looked more amused than annoyed. Once he was sure she
wasn't cross with him, he launched into the full story of their break-in to Gringotts.

After that, the storytelling fell to his parents. They focused mostly on their time at Hogwarts sensing, correctly,
that Harry preferred those to stories about the other Harry, mostly because they were still relevant in his world,
but also because he hadn't shaken the intense jealousy he felt toward the other version of himself

They returned to their tent just before dawn, right as their bodies were beginning to grow tired enough to attempt
sleep. They agreed to try to get most of their sleeping done during the day so they could enjoy the next night
under the stars, following dinner reservations the other Hermione had made to celebrate their last night. They
figured they could worry about making up for sleep and adjusting to the proper time zone once they were home.

Harry had trouble sleeping that morning. The couch in their tent wasn't nearly as comfortable as the one back in
their suite at Pacifica had been, even with the spells Hermione had cast to extend it and provide additional
cushioning. He yawned as he sat up on the lumpy sofa, stretching his arms over his head. Then he shoved his
glasses on and pulled on a jumper before leaving the tent, reasoning a walk might help tire him out enough so that
the uncomfortable couch didn't matter.

Harry made his way through the line of tents toward the mountain they'd laid at the base of a few hours ago to
watch the Song of the Stars. It was nearly dawn now and the sky was a dark blue and getting lighter by the
minute, the colorful lights from earlier no longer visible.

As Harry made his way along the bend in the path to the other side of the mountain, the sky began to darken. He
barely noticed since his mind was filled with thoughts of the portal he and Hermione had used to come to this
world and what awaited him when he passed through it again. He was thinking of Ron and Ginny and imagining
the difficult conversations ahead of him.

"Sorry, Mate, but I sort of, er, fell in love with your fiancée. Well, technically, I think I was in love with her the
whole time and only just realized."

Did it make it worse that he'd loved her the whole time? Maybe he should leave that part out.

"But if you really think about it, I was the one who thought to go save her from the troll, and if it weren't for that,
we may have never become friends with her. So I sort of had dibs, didn't I?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. He imagined Ginny next, and pictured her crying, which she never did, but it
was good to be prepared for the worst and a crying, devastated Ginny would certainly be the worst.

"Sorry to break your heart and cancel the wedding you and your mum have been obsessing over for months. But
—erm—you can keep the ring."

Harry groaned. Both speeches needed work. It was too bad he couldn't ask Hermione about it. She was good at
this sort of thing. He was as out of his depth as Hagrid had been when trying to tidy his hair for Harry's Order of
Merlin Ceremony, still ending up with several twigs and pieces of comb in his thick beard.

Are you really the person to make a jibe about untidy hair?
Harry shook his head as he grinned inwardly at his joke, subconsciously raking his fingers through his own messy
hair. He should probably head back. He'd gone farther than he'd meant to. Harry stopped and looked around. Uh
oh.

He wasn't sure how it had happened, but he'd ended up in a thick forest. The sky was a dull grey through the
canopy of the trees and there was no sign of the mountains that had dominated the skyline of Hølen island. Harry
turned around, attempting to make his way out of the ominous forest he'd inadvertently stumbled into but as he
walked, he seemed to be charging deeper into the trees.

Harry spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw the
figures walking alongside him. Shit. It was his parents, Sirius, and Lupin, all looking younger than he
remembered them. Once Harry saw them, he knew where they were. The Forbidden Forest.

He was about to confront Voldemort and had summoned them using the Resurrection Stone to give him the
courage to make the trek. Harry took a deep breath and gripped his wand tightly, then cast a silent Lumos before
continuing his march through the forest.

When he reached the clearing where Voldemort and his followers were waiting for him, he dropped the stone, just
as he'd done a thousand times before. He gripped the Invisibility Cloak, which had somehow appeared on him as
he'd been walking but this time, when he pulled the cloak off and revealed himself, something different happened.

His parents were standing on either side of him. This time, they weren't the young versions he'd seen in the forest
that night, but twenty years older. The version of his parents he'd come to know in the other world. "Go," Harry
hissed. "I can't protect you." He knew how this usually played out. He'd be hit with a Killing Curse, and it would
hurt like hell, but he always survived. They wouldn't, however.

Lily and James shook their heads defiantly as the scene changed. He was at the house in Godric's Hollow, the one
he and Hermione had visited when they'd had dinner with his parents. They were all eating at the table when there
was a knock at the door. James went to answer it. The next moment, he cried from the entryway, "Lily, take Harry
and Hermione and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Harry's stomach plummeted as his eyes flashed to his dad's wand, which was lying on the surface of the dining
table. What did he expect to do without a wand? Harry lunged for the wand as his mum dragged Hermione
toward the stairs. "Harry! We need to go!"

"No! He needs his—" Just then, there was a high-pitched scream Harry knew well. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry could only see the side of his dad's body from his current angle but even then, watching his arms and legs
slacken as he slumped to the ground nearly tore Harry's heart in half. "Harry!" Lily and Hermione cried, halfway
up the stairs. Harry sprinted after them, both his and his dad's wands gripped tightly in his hand, but knew
Voldemort wasn't far behind.

Lily led them to a bedroom and once inside, Harry immediately recognized what must have been the other
Harry's room. There was a bed with red and grey sheets in the middle and Quidditch posters adorning the walls, a
dusty trunk shoved to the side of the room. As he looked around, he realized Hermione was gone. It was just him
and his mum in the room. "Where's Hermione?"

"She—" Lily didn't get a chance to finish her statement because the next second, the door blasted open.
Voldemort was in the hall outside, approaching slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Lily pushed herself in
front of Harry. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—" Harry was trying desperately to push his mum aside, but she
wouldn't budge. He should have been strong enough to get past her, but she felt as heavy as stone.

"This is my last warning—"

"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy … Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" Voldemort cried. There was a flash of green light, then a pain like a knife being
thrown at Harry's head and finally, mercifully, he jolted awake, panting as he pulled himself up to a sitting
position.

"Fuck," he swore as he welcomed the new dream into his life. He was sure this one would be a constant
companion after he returned home. He groaned as he pulled himself off the couch, stumbling as he made his way
to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he crouched over the sink, sipping his water, he rolled his shoulders and
flexed his legs.

When the water was gone, he eyed the couch with hostility. Should he attempt to sleep some more? Probably. But
the nightmare was still playing at the edges of his mind. Maybe later. Harry refilled his glass of water and made
his way outside. The sky was a hazy blue in the early morning light and Harry relished the feeling of the cool air
on his skin as he worked through his mantra, trying to chase away the remnants of the dream as he paced the area
in front of the tent.

None of it is real. It's just your fucked up mind messing with you. He's gone. You've won. And your parents are
safe...in this world. They're dead back at home, as you know. But Hermione's alive.

Shit. He'd have to sort something more comforting out for the end part, especially if this nightmare was going to
be playing on repeat for a while.

He conjured a chair and lowered himself into it. He watched the sky change colors for a few moments, then a
shadow came across his line of sight. He turned to find a familiar stag standing there. Fuck, was he still
dreaming? A dream within a dream? His mind really was fucked. "Dad?"

The stag transformed back into his dad, wearing a pair of black joggers and a grey hoodie. He conjured a chair
next to Harry and let out a long sigh as he took a seat. "Couldn't sleep either?" James asked. He was panting
slightly and when Harry handed him a glass of water, he drank it down in one gulp.

"What were you doing?" Harry asked curiously.

"Running," James supplied, as if it were obvious.

"You do that in your animal form?"

"When I can get away with it," James shrugged, tapping his glass with his wand to refill it. "I can go much faster
and my thoughts—they're a lot simpler in that form."

"Sounds nice."

"It is."

They watched the sky brighten for several moments, each lost in their thoughts. Eventually, James vanished the
empty glass in his hand, then turned to Harry and said, "It's good we can't sleep. I've been wanting to talk to you
before—well—you know."

Harry nodded. Tears were already stinging his eyes. Fuck, he was going to be a mess when it was time to say
goodbye for real.

"Uh," James began. He paused to let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm not great with heart-to-hearts. That's more your
mum's thing."

"I'm pretty bad at them too," Harry admitted.

"Good, we can suffer together." James let out another uneasy laugh. "Okay, I guess I wanted to talk about—well
—I wonder—have you—um—thought about what we discussed in Egypt?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. It was funny seeing his dad, who was usually so self-assured, nervous like this.
"Yeah, Dad. I've thought about it a lot. And I'm sorry about that. About, er, deceiving you in the middle of such a
personal moment. I felt like shit about it for days after. Still sort of do."

James waved dismissively. "Don't. I'm glad we talked. And, honestly, all the signs were there, that you weren't my
Harry. I just really wanted to believe you were."

"Yeah?" Harry asked. "I thought you could tell, even early on, and, well, you did figure it out in the end."

James nodded and started focusing on a beetle several feet in front of them. "You're more reserved than my Harry.
More cautious, too. But the way you're always looking out for the people and how you're eager to smooth things
over and keep the peace—my Harry does those things too. And Hermione, well, you got me there. You dote on
your Hermione as much as he dotes on his."

Now it was Harry's turn to release a nervous chuckle.

"And I—I knew it was odd for my Harry to be so forgiving, so quickly," James continued. "Especially since I'm
sure it was not his idea to come on this trip. Hermione is certainly forcing him into it. But I wanted it to be true,
that he didn't hate me anymore, so I believed it. And every time I doubted, I couldn't think of a motive for
someone to impersonate my son just to go on a nice holiday."

James sighed and looked back at Harry. "Anyway—are you deflecting? Trying to avoid the earlier topic?"

"Yeah." Harry leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and wrapped his fingers around his neck.
"You're talking about the job, right? About me being an Auror?"

James hummed in confirmation.

Harry kept his head down. "I have been thinking about it. I even told Hermione I'm thinking about quitting—after
you and I talked. I never really wanted it, honestly. I'm good at it, everyone expected it of me and—and like you
said, I thought it would help. I thought I was supposed to track down the last of the Death Eaters. But—it doesn't
feel good, looking for them. It feels pretty fucking awful, because I have to see all the dark shit they come up
with."

"I know what you mean," James said in a low voice.

Harry turned to him and nodded sadly. "What do you think I should do?"

"What you want," James said quickly. "You deserve it more than anyone. If you liked being an Auror and truly
got enjoyment out of it, I'd tell you to go for it. But it sounds like you don't. So just—take a break. I know for a
fact you can afford it," he added teasingly. "Then, just, see what feels right."

Harry let out a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a laugh. "The Prophet is going to have a field day.
First, I call off my wedding, then I quit my job. I hate to see what sort of theories the reporters come up with."

"At least you don't have to worry about Skeeter," James pointed out.

Harry smiled.

"So… you're going to break it off with Ginny? You're sure?"

"I can't marry her when I'm in love with someone else."

"Good. I agree. And the papers… who cares? It'll be exciting for a few weeks, then they'll move on. Dealing with
that won't be as hard as finding and destroying Horcruxes all on your own."

"I wasn't on my own. I had Hermione."

James smiled.

"And the papers don't concern me as much as Ron," Harry continued. "He's my best mate and I—well, I still don't
know if she's going to leave him but either way, he'll know I fell in love with her. I'll have to tell him. And he—"
Harry cut off and dropped his face in his hands. "He's going to kill me," he said into his hands, his voice muffled.
"I can't see us getting past this."

Harry felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "If he's truly your best mate, he'll understand. He'll probably hex you, and
need a few months to get over it, but if he loves you, he'll know you didn't do it on purpose and he'll forgive you.
And if he doesn't… well... you need a new best mate. Perhaps Neville. He's a pretty remarkable friend, at least in
this world."

Harry let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. He's pretty good in our world, too." Harry had already planned to reach
out to Neville when they were back. He was sure Hermione wouldn't let him tell Neville any of what they'd seen,
but the trip had reminded Harry of what a good friend he was and how Harry hadn't been great about keeping in
touch with him.

"What's Neville doing in this world?" Harry asked.

James shrugged. "Nothing of note, last I checked. He went back to Hogwarts for his final year and I think he
just… stayed on. McGonagall lets him live in some unused quarters while he pursues a few areas of advanced
study and tries to sort out what he's going to do next. I believe he's on an international assignment right now, but
I'm not sure on the details. I've seen him at the Ministry a few times, doing speeches and the like to raise funds for
the rebuilding effort. And there was an awful book written about him called—shit, what was it? Oh! The Hero In
Me. Lily and I had a laugh about that. But I don't know much else, besides the Ginny thing. I was planning to ask
Harry and Hermione about Neville when I saw them."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. So the other Neville had bested him in this, too. But he reminded himself that it
was different. His parents had confirmed that Neville wasn't nearly as famous in this world as Harry was in his.
Though Neville had a book. At least Harry didn't have one of those—though not for lack of offers. He sighed and
leaned back in the chair, tilting his head up toward the sky.

"I'm an idiot," he announced after several moments.

"Are you?" James asked simply.

Harry let out a small laugh. "Why did it take me so long to sort out my feelings for Hermione? You and mum
figured it out after knowing us for a week. If I'd only figured it out in school, or even when we were on the run,
this thing with Ron would be loads easier. I can see him forgiving me for falling for a girl he likes, but isn't
technically dating. But trying to steal his fiancée? That's different."

"I have a theory about that."

Harry sat up and turned his head toward him. "You do?"

James nodded. "I told your mum a few nights ago, when you told us you weren't together."

James looked away, back at the beetle, before continuing to talk. "You didn't have it easy growing up," he began
uncomfortably. "It makes sense that once you got to school, you clung desperately to your friends and did
anything to avoid losing them. Sirius was sort of like that in the beginning. So this—trying to pursue a romantic
relationship, especially if Ron liked her—well, you'd have risked losing both of them. So you didn't. You shut
your mind off to the possibility."

"Huh," Harry said, watching that same beetle, which had decided to abandon the hole it had been digging and
make for the bushes at the edge of the path. "I think that makes sense. But I also pushed her away," he said,
embarrassed to admit it. "Before this trip, we were pretty distant and I think—um—I was sort of doing it because
I needed to lash out at someone, and I knew she would take it. I knew she would never leave me. It's awful, I
know, and a big part of the reason she doesn't believe my feelings are real."

Harry could see James looking at him out of his periphery. He took a breath before turning to face his dad. James
didn't look disappointed, like Harry had been expecting. Ironically, he looked amused.
"More proof that humans are incredibly complicated. You loved Hermione, which drove you to refuse to
acknowledge her as a romantic interest and push her away. How counterproductive. Certainly not the first time
I've seen something like that. But now you know where you went wrong, and it's time to fix it."

"Fix it," Harry repeated bitterly.

James shrugged again.

Harry rolled his eyes. He made it sound so simple. What did he know? He'd been with his mum since Hogwarts.
They were each other's first love. Now that was simple. He didn't know the details of their relationship, but he
was pretty sure his dad had never had to deal with something as complicated as his situation with Hermione.

James laughed. "Now that's a look I'm very used to." He patted Harry on the back. "I told you I wasn't good with
the heart-to-hearts. Also, I'm not great with advice on witches. I've only ever had one girlfriend. If you want
advice on Hermione, ask your mum."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, okay." And even though Harry knew James wouldn't know the answer to the question, he
couldn't help himself from asking, "Is she going to pick me?" He tried to ignore how pathetic he sounded.

"Absolutely," James said without hesitation. "That witch is in love with you. Her worst fear is losing you. How
much more obvious can you get? But that's exactly what's working against you—her fear.

"You just said she doesn't trust you're sincere and you need to convince her otherwise. Give her time, make it
clear you're not going anywhere, and you'll wear her down. Once I decided I couldn't live without your mum and
truly committed myself to her, it took me five months to win her over. Hopefully, for you, it won't take as long."

"I would wait five years, if that's what it took," Harry said honestly.

James nudged him with his elbow. "There's the spirit. You're going to be just fine."

"Maybe you're just committed to believing that because it's nice—like how you believed I was the other Harry,
despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary."

"Maybe you're being overly pessimistic because you slept for only two hours on a lumpy couch."

"Maybe." A smile pulled at Harry's lips. It had been so long since he'd been able to go to an adult for advice like
this. Not since Sirius had passed. And when he was back… fuck. There would be no more parents to look out for
him, especially since Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be out of the picture. He'd be the sole adult again, in charge of
his own life. That was a scary thought. A silent swear passed through his lips.

"What?" James asked, looking at him curiously.

"I was just thinking how I'm unfit to be an adult. They should put you through a rigorous testing process before
sending you out into the world. Like—look at what I've done so far: picked the wrong job, picked the wrong
witch... who knows what else I got wrong?"

"To be fair," James added thoughtfully, "you also killed the most powerful wizard of all time, with alarmingly
little help. So you got at least one thing right."

"That might be the only thing," Harry grumbled.

"Might be," James agreed, "but it's a good one."

Harry shook his head and he smiled. "Thank Merlin Hermione dragged me through that portal to this world. I'd
hate to see what sort of mess I'd have made of my life ten years down the line if left to my own devices."

James let out a hearty laugh and patted Harry's leg. "And you all keep calling me dramatic. Though, I do know
how you feel. I thought the same when you were first born. I was appalled we were just allowed to have you—
with no training or anything. I was terrified I was going to do it all wrong and—turns out it didn't matter what I
did. Whether I was there or not, you were going to turn out brilliantly."
 Harry snorted. "Dark joke."

"If you can't laugh about it, you'll just be crying all the time."

Harry recognized the quote. "Sirius told me that once. Was that from you?" he asked, swallowing back a lump in
his throat.

James shook his head as a haunted look crossed his features. "It was him."

They were quiet again. After a few more minutes, James stood and said they should probably go back inside and
try to sleep, since they were supposed to stay awake tonight. "Yeah," Harry said roughly, pulling himself up and
vanishing the chairs and his empty glass with his wand.

When they arrived back inside the tent, James grabbed Harry's shoulder and said seriously, "I know I'm not great
with advice, but hopefully, I've been able to impart some sort of wisdom in our time together because you—" His
voice caught in his throat. He paused to take a breath. "You have given me a tremendous gift."

"Really?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Absolutely. I'll think of you often, but I'll probably think of the other James just as much and the life—the life
that was taken from him. When I'm feeling sorry for myself for being the only one of my friends left behind,
when I'm dealing with a moody son, who hates what I had to do to protect him during the war, or when I'm
feeling lost about where to go next, I'll remember how lucky I am to be alive and how one decision could have
changed the entire course of my life. You gave me that—by coming here—by sharing your story and I—I'll never
forget it. I only hope I'm able to give you something half as valuable to take with you."

Harry's eyes filled with tears at the sight of his dad looking so emotional. "You've given me so much," Harry said
in a broken voice.

"Really?" James asked, in an almost perfect impersonation of Harry from a few moments before.

Harry's chest clenched. He nodded. "I wonder all the time what would make you proud of me. I mean, obviously
killing Voldemort, but after all that, just, day-to-day. Is what I'm doing enough?"

James squeezed his shoulder. "Promise me when you leave here, you won't have any doubt that I'm proud of you.
Every second of every day, even when you're being an idiot, I'm proud of you. Being your father is by far my
greatest accomplishment. And I know I speak for every version of me, in every world."

"Yeah," Harry bit out. He dropped his head onto his dad's shoulder and let several tears fall onto the well-worn
fabric of his hoodie. "I don't usually cry this much," Harry said, barely managing to form the words through his
silent sobs.

"Right, of course," James replied in a rough voice, wrapping his arms around Harry and pulling him into a tight
embrace. "Me neither."

After Harry finally got control of his tears, he pulled back and gave his dad an embarrassed smile. "I'm going to
miss you," he whispered.

James gave him a sad smile and Harry was relieved to note that his eyes were also wet with tears. Good. He
wasn't the only emotional wreck.

"I'll be thinking about you all the time," James said. "Just remember that when things get hard. I'll be here, Harry.
Rooting for you."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Ugh. I am not going to be able to handle goodbye time. I'm already crying at the pre-goodbye.

Also, logistical note: The best time to see the Northern Lights from the Lofoten Islands is from October-
March. This trip is in August. Oops. Hopefully, you all weren't using this as a travel guide.

I hope you enjoyed the all the Wonders. That part of the story was fun, but I'm not gonna lie, I'm glad I don't
have to think up any more of them. Thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustration!
 Song of the Stars, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Day Fourteen

Harry wasn't able to fall back to sleep after his dad returned to his room upstairs, though not for lack of trying. He
laid back on the couch and closed his eyes, but sleep never came. His mind replayed the conversation he'd had
with his dad. Then, traitorously, it began playing the nightmare he'd been having before that conversation. Harry
groaned and pulled himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes in an effort to wipe the dark thoughts away.

He grabbed a book from a nearby shelf and began to read, hoping it would help tire him out enough so he could
fall asleep. But after learning more than he ever wanted to know about the magical creatures of Northern Ireland,
he was still awake.

His mum came down the stairs about an hour later and wished Harry a good 'morning / afternoon / she didn't
know what time it was anymore.' He helped her prepare a quick 'breakfast / lunch / whatever we're calling it' and
as they worked, they discussed the Wonders from their trip and ranked them from best to worst.

Harry was glad for the easy conversation with his mum. He didn't think he could handle another heart-to-heart
like the one he'd had with his dad, at least not without a few more hours of sleep. He also didn't want to talk about
Hermione anymore. Hermione was right, there was nothing to be done until they returned to their world the
following day.

After eating, Lily and Harry returned to the couch with mugs of tea. Harry moved the sheets and blankets to the
side, folding them messily with his wand. As he laid his head back on the couch, his eyes fell closed. Oh, great.
So now you sleep.

He felt a hand on his leg. "Hmm?"

"Why don't you go upstairs and sleep in the bed? It sounds like Hermione's awake. I can hear her moving around
up there."

Harry nodded. "Hmm. That's a good idea." But he couldn't find the energy to move, and stayed in place.

"Would you like me to Levitate you up there?" his mum joked.

"Yes, please."

"Okay…" He felt her shift on the couch and cracked an eye open to see what she was doing. She had her wand
out and was pointing it at him.

"I was kidding," Harry said, leaning away from her. "I can walk." He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled up
the stairs, smiling at the sound of his mum's soft chuckles behind him.

"Enjoy your nap, Harry," Lily said from the couch. "You clearly need it."

He waved to her as he continued to climb the stairs. "Knock knock," he said, once he reached the closed tent flap
of the room he used to share with Hermione.

"Come in."
Hermione was lying on the bed on her stomach with her ankles crossed in the air. Her hair was damp and she was
wearing dark jeans with a light blue jumper. He spotted the silver necklace with the small otter pendant she'd been
excited to find the other Hermione wearing and hadn't taken off since they'd arrived, explaining that it was a gift
from her parents that they'd also given her back in their world, though the style of this one was slightly different.

"I'm finishing up the final accounts of the trip," she said without looking up, scribbling furiously in her notebook.
"I just finished with Pacifica and once I cover last night, I'll be all caught—" She cut off once she finally looked
up and spotted Harry in the doorway. "You look awful. Did you sleep?"

As if on cue, Harry yawned. "Not well," he said as he walked further into the room, letting the canvas flap on the
door close behind him. "How are you going to get that back home?" he asked, pointing to her notebook.

"I know a spell," she said dismissively.

"Of course you do."

A smile tugged at her lips. "It's pretty common to have books turn on you in the Department of Mysteries," she
explained. "Sometimes they explode, disappear, or even change all their words. There's a spell we Unspeakables
know that can take the pensieve memories of a person reading a book and recreate the pages. Anyway, you should
try to sleep. You really won't want to be knackered on our last night."

"Yeah. I actually came here to ask if I could use the bed for a nap."

"Of course!" she exclaimed, jumping up. She placed the notebook and pen on the bedside table, then went to
Harry and dragged him to the side of the bed. "I'll work on improving the charms on the couch," she said,
blushing slightly. "Again, I'm really sorry to kick you out of—"

"It's fine," he said quickly. "And it wasn't just the couch. I had a nightmare, then a long talk with my dad that
drained me of the little energy I had left. It's not your fault." He forced out a small smile.

Her brown eyes started scanning his features and by the look of concern growing in them, she didn't like what she
saw. "Are you okay?" she whispered. "Was it a good talk?"

"Yeah. It was good. Just… sad."

Hermione nodded. "Do you need anything?"

Harry gave her a shy smile. "I wouldn't say no to a hug." Before he could wonder if she was going to deny him,
she was in his arms. Harry pulled her close and dropped his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her
scent.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle and grabbed her wrist to lock them in place. She pressed her face
into his shoulder and let herself enjoy the feeling of being completely engulfed by him. This was the sort of hug
they wouldn't be able to bring back home with them. At least, not while they were engaged to other people.

The way they were clinging to each other, pressing their hips together, breathing in time, as if they were one,
wasn't the way two friends were supposed to hug. When Hermione felt Harry sway on his feet, she pulled back,
just as a warm blush was creeping up her neck.

Harry grabbed her chin and without a hint of shame, placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She shook her head as she pushed him down onto the bed. "I'm going to let that slide since you're clearly delirious
from lack of sleep." He gave her a roguish grin as he settled under the covers and her heart skipped a beat. She
still wasn't used to these admiring looks from Harry.

Hermione pulled down on her jumper to straighten it and turned to the door, waving her wand to turn off the
lights. "Have a good nap, Harry. And if you can't sleep, let me know and I'll make a Potion for you." That didn't
look like it was going to be a problem, though. His eyes had already fallen closed.
"Hermione," he murmured when she was almost out of the room.

"Yeah?"

His eyes were cracked open and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "I'll wait for you. Five years if you want.
Longer, even. Though I hope it's not five decades, since we both want kids and will probably be too old by then."

"What?" Hermione smiled in spite of herself. He was slurring his words, like he was drunk, and she wondered if
he was already half-asleep. "You're not making any sense."

"I know—not supposed to press." He closed his eyes and turned onto his side. "Just… want you to know."

She waited for a few moments and when he didn't say anything else, she closed the tent flap and went downstairs.

After sitting at the dining table for tea with Lily, who was reading the local paper with the aid of a translation
spell and, mercifully, didn't seem in the mood to pester Hermione about Harry, Hermione returned to the bedroom
to fetch the notebook and pen she'd left on the bedside table.

She tip-toed into the room and when she reached the table, paused to look down at Harry. His breathing was slow
and deep and she took that as a sign that he was sleeping soundly. He'd even forgotten to remove his glasses. She
crouched down and slipped them off, then folded the frames and placed them on the table. When she looked back
at him, her heart thudded.

Okay, Hermione. It's time to leave. But she couldn't. She was frozen in place. She reached out and pushed back a
lock of black hair that had fallen into his face. He was so handsome. Especially like this, without his glasses
distracting from his features. Before she could question the urge, or talk herself out of it, Hermione leaned
forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. When she pulled away, she saw his lips turning up slightly. Her
heart thudded again.

"I love you because you smile in your sleep, hum while you read, and get tears in your eyes when you watch my
parents. I love all of you, Hermione."

Tears stung Hermione's eyes at the memory of that night. She pressed her forehead against the edge of the bed
and let out a shaky breath, trying to work through the tightness in her chest. When she looked back up at Harry,
there was still a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You smile in your sleep too," she whispered. "And it's also on the long list of reasons I love you, Harry Potter."

And she did—love him, that is. Which she'd known as far back as Venezuela. She'd tried to hide from the truth
but last night, under the stars, listening to the desires of her heart made into a song, she couldn't hide from it
anymore.

She loved Harry.

More than she'd ever loved anyone and more than she would ever love anyone else. She was just terrified he
didn't love her back. He said he did, but would that still be the case when they returned home? Would he really
wait five years for her? Where had that come from? This extreme focus and blind determination to be with her
didn't match any of his previous interactions from before the trip. She let out a long sigh.

"I love you, Harry," she repeated. "I'm just worried you don't love me back."

She remembered another conversation from that night at Pacifica, after she'd told Harry about what she'd seen in
the mist.

"Is this your way of telling me you're in love with me, too?" he'd asked.

"I don't know."

"Okay. That's fair. Will you tell me when you figure it out?"
"You'll be the first to know."

Well, she'd figured it out and she'd told him. She was pretty sure he'd meant to be awake for it but for now, this
was all she could manage. Hermione brushed her fingers against the spot on his cheek where her lips had been.
She got to her feet, grabbed the notebook and pen, and left the room.

An hour later, Hermione was lying on the couch with her head propped up on Harry's pillow. It smelled like him,
which felt comforting and wrong all at once. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about Harry. She was supposed
to be focusing on the results of the diagnostic spell emitting from her wand. Hermione took a deep breath, let
herself enjoy Harry's familiar scent for two more seconds, then forced her mind to focus on the task at hand. She
was running out of time and if she was serious about this, she had to get to work.

Hermione had her jumper pulled up to just below her bra and was casting a spell to show the composition of the
Everlasting Curse Dolohov had cast at the other Hermione, just as she'd done countless times on the trip. But
today was different. Ever since she learned that James and Lily would not be losing their memories after this trip,
an idea had been forming in her mind. She bit her lip as she studied the wound, then called to Lily, who was
sitting at the table, chatting with James.

They'd looked at her curiously when she started examining her wound like this and after confirming she wasn't in
any excessive pain and didn't need their assistance, they left her alone as she cast every diagnostic spell she knew,
occasionally stopping to scribble in her notebook.

"Do you need something?" Lily asked, turning away from James to focus on Hermione.

"Yeah—um—I think I can fix this."

Lily rushed to her, nearly knocking her chair over on her way up. James caught it with his foot just in time. "The
wound?" Lily asked, crouching next to Hermione. "You can heal this? But...how?"

"I can't get rid of it completely. But I've been examining it and I'm pretty sure I can reduce the power of the spell.
At least by half, maybe more. I would have done it already, but it will take several hours and we haven't really
had the time, at least—not since Giant's Gulch, which was where I finally figured out how I would go about it.
Plus, I didn't think it was worth it, since we'd be jumping back in time anyway. But if I can do it now, and show
you how, you can repeat it for the other Hermione."

"Yes. Of course. I can." Lily was beaming widely and already had her wand out. "What do I do?"

"Easy," Hermione laughed, gently pushing the tip of Lily's wand away. "I have a lot of formulas to work out first
but—um—maybe we can work on them together?"

She hadn't meant for the question to come out in such a pathetic tone, but she was unsure where she stood with
Lily. Ever since the truth about Hermione and Harry had come out, Lily had been frosty toward Hermione, taking
it as a personal offense that Hermione had chosen Ron instead of her son.

"Of course I'll help," Lily said, taking a seat on the ground next to the coffee table and pulling her knees up. "Tell
me what to do."

"Brilliant. Okay."

"Can I help?" James asked from the side of the room. She guessed he was keeping his distance to give her
privacy, since she had her stomach exposed.

"Do you know any Arithmancy?" Hermione asked.

James shook his head.

"Runes?"
He shook his head again.

"Do you have any experience dismantling dark artifacts?"

"No."

"Okay. Maybe just some tea, then."

He rolled his eyes, but still plodded over to the kitchen and started boiling water. "Same as always? Extra-strong
with a splash of milk?" he called after a few minutes.

"Uh huh," Hermione replied, barely listening as she used her wand to sort the hundreds of Runes floating in the
air into four different groups, one for each element: earth, fire, air, and water. Her mind was racing and she could
feel that familiar calm settle over her as she thought through the complicated problem in front of her.

"Lily. Count these, then figure out which planet's number matches best." Hermione floated the group of Runes
associated with fire over to Lily.

"Is this going to work?" Lily asked as she ripped a blank page out of Hermione's notebook.

"There's only one way to find out."

An hour later, Lily was still on the floor, bent over Hermione's wound and comparing the Runes etched into
Hermione's skin with the Runes hovering in the air. Hermione had been using a spell to create floating copies of
each of the Runes on her skin, but considering the complexity of what she was about to accomplish, and the
danger if she got even one part wrong, she wanted to be absolutely certain the floating Runes she'd based all her
calculations on were the right ones.

As Lily went through the tedious task of checking each one, Hermione explained their next step. "Magic is
elemental," she was saying. "Every spell is composed of different levels of fire, water, earth, and air. But for more
complicated magic, like the Sacrificial Magic that protected Neville and Harry and most Dark spells, there is a
fifth component, driven by either Love or Fear, that's harder to break down and understand. To undo the spell,
you need to fully characterize it, which is what we've done so far—at least for the four primary elements. And
we've identified the Runes wrapped up in the fifth element. So now, we're going to try to unravel it all."

"But you said we couldn't undo the spell, just reduce its power," Lily said, keeping her head down. She touched
her wand to a few more Runes that were floating in the air and they disappeared.

"It's too dangerous for us to try to remove it completely. The fifth element of the spell has entwined itself with
Hermione's magic. We can't touch that part but what we can do is shave away all the other parts: the fire, water,
air, and earth elements, leaving behind just enough to keep the spell stable."

Lily frowned and looked up at Hermione. "How dangerous is this?"

"Very," Hermione said without hesitation. "But I'm good at this. 75% of my job is spell decomposition and
creation. I wouldn't be attempting it if I weren't certain I could help. That's why I'm only trying to decrease its
power. I probably could remove it completely, but it's too risky."

Lily considered her response, then nodded and went back to her task of checking the Runes, vanishing each one
in the air once she'd checked it matched the Rune on Hermione's skin. "What's the other 25% of your job?"

"Thinking," Hermione said with a small laugh. "We're supposed to sit around and think of new ideas, read,
explore the world, just...see where our mind takes us. That's what I was doing here in this world. Exploring."

"Do you like your job?" Lily asked.

"Yes, I love it." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut to avoid a few tears from falling.

"What?" Lily asked, picking up on her distress.

"I'm going to lose my job when I return home. For—uh—bringing Harry into the Department of Mysteries and
through the portal. Including non-Unspeakables in our work is strictly forbidden."

A tear finally fell down Hermione's cheek and she wiped it away quickly, before it hit the pillow.

"So you gave up a job you love for him," Lily said gently, stopping her review of the Runes to fix Hermione with
an intense stare.

"I know, Lily," Hermione whispered. "Okay? I'm not that dense."

Lily's expression immediately brightened. "What do you know? That you're in love with him?"

Hermione nodded.

"Brilliant! Then why are you—?"

"It's not my feelings I'm unsure of," Hermione cut in. "It's his."

Lily's brow furrowed. "He's sincere. I know it."

Hermione shrugged and laid her head back on her pillow, focusing up at the canvas ceiling. "We'll see. When
we're back, we'll see." Lily hummed. "And I haven't told him so I would appreciate it if you wouldn't," Hermione
added.

"Okay. And Ron…?"

"I love him too," Hermione sighed.

"But not as much."

Hermione closed her eyes again. "I don't know, Lily. I don't know who I love more and what I should do and I—I
imagine it'll come to me when I see Ron again. Or, that's what I'm hoping for, at least."

Lily hummed again and Hermione was grateful she didn't say more. This admission had already been a lot but
Hermione needed to tell someone. It should have been Harry (when he was awake) but she wasn't ready for that.
And now that she was saying it out loud, it felt right. But Ron… She took a deep breath.

She had a very complicated spell to pick apart and weave back together. She needed to put all her focus on that.
She could worry about her love triangle with Harry and Ron later.

Another hour passed. James had gone outside to meet their neighbors after Lily and Hermione told him his
nervous pacing was putting them on edge and that he was free to leave. He'd huffed, but seemed relieved and told
them to send a Patronus if they needed him for anything. They were finally finished with their calculations and
ready to begin decomposing the spell.

"I'm going to have you do it, Lily. Partly because I can't reach but mostly so you can repeat it for the other
Hermione."

"Okay," Lily said, raising her wand. "What do I do?"

"Repeat after me." Lily nodded. "Partem ac parcellam revelio."

Lily repeated the words and a tiny glowing orb that looked like a silver ball of yarn appeared on her wand tip. "Is
this what's supposed to happen?" Lily asked.

Hermione nodded. "Now touch your wand to—"

"No!" a voice shouted from behind them.

Lily flinched and pulled her wand away from Hermione. The movement caused the orb to disappear.

"Harry," Hermione said gently, "we're just—"

"I know exactly what you're doing and I refuse to let you continue!" He had his wand out now and looked ready
to duel.

"Harry, we've been extremely cautious and I'm not going to try to remove it—just weaken it."

"No," he said simply, coming into the room and taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table.

"Harry—"

"No," he repeated, fixing her with a stern glare. "We were just talking the other day about how dangerous
dismantling Dark Artifacts is, then you go and attempt the spell on your bloody body?! Absolutely not. Thank
Merlin I woke in time to stop you."

"Is it really that dangerous?" Lily asked. "You said you have it in hand."

"It is extremely dangerous," Harry said, speaking over Hermione. He opened his mouth to say more, but
Hermione silenced him.

"Let me speak." He glared at her, but left the Silencing Charm in place. "That accident with the cursed vase was
caused by an Auror in Training. I'm a lot better at this than new Aurors. I wouldn't be doing it if I wasn't sure.
And this will help her, Harry. I can help her."

Harry swallowed hard at the pleading look in her eyes. Fucking Hermione. Why did she always have to help?
Usually, he loved this about her, but when it threatened her own wellbeing… He cringed as he recalled that day
the vase had exploded in the Auror Offices. He grabbed his throat and lifted his eyebrow, asking silently if it was
his turn to talk.

When Hermione nodded, Harry touched his wand and wordlessly removed the Silencing Charm. "I know you
want to help, but this is too much," he said, struggling to keep a level tone. "The other Hermione is fine. My mum
said she has ways to manage the pain." He looked at Lily, who nodded in confirmation.

Harry let out a long breath, then took Hermione's hand in both of his. "I can't lose you. Please don't do this."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I know what I'm doing, Harry, and I'm going to do this spell. You need to trust
me."

Harry scowled. He was warring between his inclination to trust her and his strong desire to protect her from
danger. Ultimately, he decided to trust her, since it was clear from her tone she wasn't asking for permission and
he would prefer she did this in front of him, so he could check her work.

Lily recast the spell from earlier and began touching the Runes on Hermione's skin in the order Hermione
directed. As her wand moved from one Rune to another, the silver ball of yarn on the tip unraveled, connecting
the points she'd touched with a glowing string.

Harry made them stop after every new touch of Lily's wand, so Hermione could go over the calculation she'd
done for picking the next Rune in the sequence with him. Harry only had a basic understanding of the
Arithmancy behind the computations—enough to repeat the work on much simpler Dark Spells—but he made
Hermione go through them anyway, more to get her to check her own work, than anything.

Their pace was painstakingly slow, but Hermione bit her tongue and refrained from informing Harry that she'd
already checked her computations twice and that she didn't need his "help," thank you very much. She knew if
their positions were reversed, she would be doing the same thing.

When they finally reached the end of the sequence, both Harry and Hermione looked down at the crisscrossing
patterns of strings Lily had created. "What now?" Lily asked.
Hermione nodded for Harry to help his mum. He rolled his eyes. Not only was he going along with this, but now
he was helping? He needed to learn how to say no to this witch. He turned to his mum and instructed her to touch
her wand tip to the first Rune she'd touched. Once Lily had done that, effectively creating a loop in the mess of
strings, the orb disappeared from the tip of her wand.

"Okay," Harry said, "now you say—" He cut off. He couldn't make the word come out of his mouth.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. She gave him a comforting smile, then said to Lily. "Say, Secessus."

Harry couldn't watch. He pulled Hermione's hand up to his face and leaned his forehead against it as he closed his
eyes. He heard his mum say the incantation and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a sound of air releasing,
then...silence. Harry cracked an eye open. Hermione was fine. She was still lying there in one piece.

He opened his eyes fully and watched her mouth fall open as she let out a soft moan. All his blood rushed south.
The way she was lying there, with her eyes closed and an expression of bliss on her face, and that sound she'd
made—

What is your problem?! Your mum is just inches away from you! Focus!

Harry gently returned Hermione's hand. "Are you—er—did it—um—work?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a breathtaking smile. She looked more relaxed than she had in ages.
Her hair was spread out over the pillow, his pillow, he realized, and it was very sexy, even though Harry knew it
shouldn't be. It was all he could do to keep from climbing on top of her and pressing her into the couch as he
snogged her senseless. His cock twitched at the thought. He took a deep, calming breath. Get a hold of yourself.

"It worked," Hermione breathed. She looked down at her wound and Harry followed her gaze.

The scar still spanned over the same amount of skin, but about half of the raised Runes were gone, making the
whole thing look considerably fainter. Lily was running her fingers over the remaining Runes. "They're still cold,"
she murmured, then looked up at Hermione. "But the pain—it's better?"

Hermione nodded. She conjured a mirror and placed it on her hip, below the wound, tilting it up so she could see
the altered scar. "It's so much better. I think we reduced the pain by half...maybe less."

"I can't believe it worked…" Harry murmured

Hermione turned her head and smiled at him. "No faith in my abilities?"

He released a small laugh. "You know that wasn't it."

Hermione gave him a knowing smile and focused back on Lily. "You'll be able to do it just like that for the other
Hermione. Trace the same pattern with your wand, use the same incantations, and it will work for her, too."

Lily smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione vanished the mirror and was about to sit up, but Harry placed a hand on her arm to keep her down.
"Wait. I want to check something."

Hermione simply nodded.

Harry took up Lily's position and lifted his wand. He rested his free hand on her waist and cast the same Dark
Magic detection spell his dad had used on Hermione after she'd woken up from the mist. A spiral emerged from
his wand tip with several dots illuminating the spaces between the lines. It looked the same as Harry remembered.
"This is a good sign, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. It means the curse is just as stable now as it was. Let me try a few spells."

Harry shifted, but left his hand on her waist. Hermione didn't seem to mind. She was focused on the output of a
complicated spell she had cast on the injury, which made a mess of Runes explode into the air. Harry had no idea
how Hermione was making any sense of the Runes, but they seemed to mean something to her and whatever they
were telling her was good, because she was wearing a half-smile and nodding.

"All good," she declared after a few minutes, waving her wand to make the Runes disappear.

"What did that spell tell you?" Lily asked as Harry finally took his hand away from Hermione's waist and helped
her pull her jumper down.

"I was checking the stability of the reduced version of the curse," Hermione explained as she pulled herself up to
a sitting position. Harry resumed his seat on the coffee table across from her. "Very stable," Hermione concluded.

"You're brilliant," Lily said, still beaming. "Hermione is going to be so relieved. Though not as much as Harry. I
can't wait to tell them."

"This Harry is relieved too," Harry said. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. But I should have known you're
never wrong."

"Rarely wrong," Hermione corrected, smiling shyly at him.

Harry's eyes met hers and they got caught up in one of those trances, where neither of them could bring
themselves to look away from the other. Lily broke the spell by placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm
going to go find James."

"Oh, uh, yeah." Hermione looked down at her watch. "We have dinner reservations in an hour, so we should
probably start getting ready."

"Sounds good," Lily said as she left the tent. "And Hermione," she called from the opening of the tent, "you
should be proud of what you did here today."

A blush tinted Hermione's cheeks as she looked up through her eyelashes at Harry. "She's right," he said. "That
was really nice, what you did, and you didn't have to. It also didn't help that you had me yelling at you to stop."

She let out a small laugh. "I probably would have been doing the same." She sighed and glanced back down at her
watch. "I guess—um—we should get ready. Do you mind if I take my shower first, so I have time to dry my
hair?"

"Go ahead."

Her eyes met his for several seconds, then she dropped her gaze to his knees, which were touching hers. "You're,
um, in the way," she whispered.

"Right." Harry got up and moved to the other end of the couch. "Sorry."

"You're fine." Hermione stood and as she walked past him, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "How are you
doing? Okay?"

He forced a smile on his face. "Yeah."

She nodded sadly as she pulled her hand away. "Don't stop sharing your thoughts with me now, okay? I'm here for
you, Harry."

"Yeah," he breathed, swallowing back a lump in his throat. "Thanks, Hermione."

A few hours later, Harry and Hermione were sitting across the table from each other, chatting about the weather
and trying to ignore the awkwardness sitting at the table with them.

James and Lily had abandoned them a short while ago for the dance floor. Harry wanted to ask Hermione to
dance, but didn't think it was the best idea. He'd already told her he loved her and been rejected. He'd also gaped
at her back at the tent, when he'd first caught sight of her all dressed up, then made her uncomfortable by going
on and on about how gorgeous she was.

But it wasn't his fault. She was gorgeous, especially now. She was wearing a simple, forest green dress that
stopped just above her knees. It was cinched at the middle, showing off her tiny waist, and had capped sleeves
and a modest neckline—though not so modest that he couldn't see the tops of her breasts, which he definitely
wasn't looking at. He forced his eyes back up, following the line of her elegant neck to her eyes, which looked
larger than normal because of the makeup she was wearing.

Harry knew he was coming on strong, but he'd just realized he was madly in love with his best friend and while it
was terrifying and made him sick if he thought about it too much, it was also wonderful. The thought of being
with Hermione, who he'd never have to hide from, who he'd always known liked him for being Harry, and not
Harry Potter, and who would never leave, made him giddy. Then, add on the fact that she was smart and beautiful
and wonderful in pretty much every way, it was no wonder he could barely contain himself around her.

But Hermione wasn't ready. She was still sorting through her feelings for Harry. She also loved Ron and felt loyal
to him. So, Harry didn't ask her to dance, even though he really wanted to. He decided to leave it up to her,
knowing she was the sort of witch who wouldn't hesitate to ask if she wanted to dance with him.

While they talked about the cool evening, and how lucky it was that they'd avoided rain for most of their trip, he
couldn't keep his mind from wandering and imagining what it would be like if he were dancing with her right
now. If he were allowed to place his hand on the curve of her waist, to hold her close, perhaps place a soft kiss on
the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Press his hips into her, lower his hand to grip her bum and—

Harry snapped back to the present. He gulped his water and readjusted his trousers, deciding to focus on the scene
around them instead. On the off-chance Hermione decided she did want to dance with him, he didn't want to be
sporting a giant erection.

The restaurant the other Hermione had found was lovely. It was at the other end of the island, wrapped around the
base of a mountain. The sky was still darkening, but Harry could tell that soon, everyone at the restaurant would
have a gorgeous view of the Northern Lights. All the tables were positioned along a long, winding boardwalk so
that they'd have an unobstructed view of the sky.

At the end of the boardwalk was a large patio. That's where a small band was playing as several couples danced,
including his parents. Dinner had been a lovely, five-course meal that had passed too quickly, despite the long
break the waiter had given them between courses.

Every moment today had passed too quickly. Soon, the sky would be dark and the lights would appear. They
would sit and watch them for a few hours, return to the tent just before dawn, sleep, and then... that would be it.
The last day of the trip, done.

Harry rubbed his palms, which had suddenly become very sweaty, on his robes. Hermione moved her foot against
his shin to get his attention. When his eyes snapped up to meet hers, she was frowning. "Are you okay?"

Someone gripped his shoulders and Harry jumped. "Sorry, Harry," his dad said, stepping into Harry's line of sight.
"I should know better than to startle an Auror."

Harry gave him a dismissive wave. "It's fine."

"Okay," James began, clapping his hands together before turning toward Hermione. "I know things are weird
here. Harry loves you, you love his best friend, he's engaged to said best friend's sister who is also your close
friend. There are confusing feelings, denial, fear, etcetera, etcetera. But we're going to put that mess behind us for
tonight." He held his hand out to her. "Dance with me."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to settle further into her seat. "You're very blunt, James."

"You're not the first person to say so." He turned his head to Harry. "Your mum wants to dance with you. She just
got caught up over there, talking to a couple two campsites down from us who live outside Bristol."
Harry turned and found his mum at the edge of the tables, speaking with a couple that looked close to his parents'
age. She waved him over and he stood up, straightened his robes, and gave Hermione a quick shrug before going
to join his mum.

James shook his hand, which was still outstretched. "Come on, Hermione. I want to dance with my future
daughter-in-law, since I won't get to do so at the wedding." He winked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but still placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

When they reached the patio at the edge of the boardwalk, James grabbed her right hand and placed his other
hand on her waist, then started guiding them around a small area in a simple waltz.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" he asked.

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. Discussing plans was easy territory. Much easier than talking about Harry
or saying goodbye. He'd picked up on her relief and gave her a knowing smile, which she quickly returned.

"Um, tomorrow," she began, but even that word made her teary. She paused to take a breath and blink back the
tears before continuing. "We'll be busy. I need Dumbledore's Deluminator, which I found in his old office at
Hogwarts the last time I was here. I used the map and Harry's cloak to sneak in last time."

James smiled.

"Then I need to go to Knockturn Alley."

"What? No."

"We'll be fine. I was fine last time. There's a magical object I need at Borgin and Burkes. A large jade amulet that
can serve as a vessel for a wizard's magic. We'll need that to get into the Department of Mysteries. I also need to
stop by Gringotts and empty Hermione's vault. Last time, she had just enough money to purchase the amulet,
thank goodness. I didn't need to add robbing Gringotts to my list of things to do to get back home—though,
honestly, I probably would have come clean to the other Harry and asked for a loan."

"So, you didn't have any of the tools you needed to get back?"

"No. I only had what this Hermione had. She didn't have the Deluminator, which made sense. I was worried
Neville would have it and that I'd have to try to track him down, but ended up being lucky and found it at the first
place I looked, McGonagall's office. She still has Dumbledore's things on a shelf there. I also needed to break into
the Department of Mysteries, since this Hermione isn't an Unspeakable, which was where the amulet came in."

"You jumped through that portal with no idea what you'd find, with no one going along with you, and knowing
there was no guarantee you'd be able to make it back safely," he said, awed. "How scared were you?"

"I was terrified. But what's life without a little risk?"

James grinned. "Is that from Sirius?"

Hermione nodded and now it was James's turn to blink back tears.

They were quiet for the next few minutes and when James spoke again, his voice was full of emotion. "Thank
you, Hermione. For going through all that to find this place, for bringing Harry along with you, and for letting
him convince you to stay. For being our guide on this magnificent trip, for letting us bully you into going through
that time portal, for— Merlin." He stopped to take a deep breath.

When James leaned back to look at her, his eyes were swimming with sorrow. "As much as I hate being around
someone who is constantly besting me in literally every area of magic—"

"Besides human to animal transfiguration."

James let out a laugh. "Sure." He sighed. "I'm going to miss you. You are a remarkable witch, Hermione. And you
deserve to be happy." He said the last part knowingly and Hermione knew he was referring to Harry.

She dropped her gaze to his shoulder. "Lily told you?"

"That you love him back? Yes. I'm not going to beat the point in anymore. Just know that he's sincere. He's
changed considerably on this trip. He knows what he wants, finally. Try to forgive him for the past and let him
show you the man he is now."

Hermione simply nodded. James pushed her out into a twirl and when she came back, she said, "I really enjoyed
getting to know you, James. I'm going to miss you, too."

Several tears fell onto her cheeks. "Damn," she swore, "I'm already crying. If this is how I am saying goodbye to
you—someone I barely like—I'm going to be a mess when it's time to say goodbye to Lily."

James laughed heartily and he turned them so she could see Harry over his shoulder, dancing with his mum a few
feet away. Hermione couldn't keep her eyes from settling on him. Harry did seem different. Not just because he
was dressed up, looking more handsome than usual, but because of the way he was holding himself.

He seemed more confident, more comfortable in his body, more sure that he was where he was supposed to be.
He was still stumbling through the dance steps, but he looked more like Hermione imagined the other Harry did
when he danced.

But how far did this change in Harry extend? Was James right? Was it possible Harry was telling the truth, really
willing to give it all up...for her? Hermione's heart floated at the thought and she got an urge to pull out of James's
arms and cut into Lily and Harry's dance. She wanted to be close to Harry, not on the other end of the patio,
dancing with his dad.

Almost as soon as the thought formed in her mind, it disappeared, replaced by the look of rage Ron would be
wearing tomorrow when he heard about what had happened in this world. Her expression darkened and she
looked away from Harry and focused on James again. He was watching her with an almost disappointed
expression.

"You help everyone around you," he said in a low voice, "never hesitating to sacrifice yourself so others can be
happy—like what you did for the other Hermione today. But when it comes to your own happiness, you don't
fight. Why is that?"

Hermione reached up and wiped away a few tears that had settled on her lower lashes. She decided to ignore
James's question, since she didn't have an answer, and changed the subject instead. "What was your favorite
Wonder, James?"

His brow furrowed and he looked even more disappointed than before. He shook his head and took up the new
topic of conversation.

At the other end of the patio, Harry and Lily were dancing in silence. Harry was focusing on the steps, trying not
to stomp on her feet, and also thinking of something worth saying. This was one of the last moments he'd be
spending with his mum and he wanted to tell her how much these past few weeks had meant to him, but couldn't
figure out how to put it into words.

Figuring it was better to say something stupid, than nothing, he decided to go with, "I created this idealized
version of you in my head. I never knew you so I just knit together the stories people had told me and imagined
what you were like. And that person was… perfect. But you—you're better."

Lily beamed at him.

"I'm glad I know you, even though it's going to make everything hurt a lot worse when I'm back."

Lily frowned. "What do you mean?"

Harry shrugged and searched around for an explanation. "I'm sort of comfortable with the grief I feel for my
parents. I've worn it my whole life and I never really knew what I was missing. But now…" He paused to take a
breath. "It's just going to be harder."

Lily nodded sadly. They were quiet for the next few moments, swaying in place, then she said, "My parents died
during my last year at Hogwarts, in a car accident."

"Yeah. I've heard."

"Right. Anyway, I took it very hard. Dumbledore noticed and one day, he called me into his office for tea to talk
about it. I didn't want to talk. I told him I'd rather forget the whole thing. That it was easier to just pretend that the
life I'd had before being introduced to the magical world had never happened since remembering it—
remembering them—was so painful."

"What did he say?" Harry asked. He could imagine Dumbledore had some sort of clever quote at the ready.

"He had a quote for me."

Harry smiled. "Of course he did."

"'It's not forgetting that heals, but remembering.' And he was right, of course. I have a lot of problems with the
man, especially after hearing your story, but you can't deny he was very wise. So, even when it's hard, you have to
face the past, the loss, the things your mind's trying to get you to forget. That's the only way to truly come to
terms with it and move on."

Harry swallowed hard. "He, uh, put a similar sort of saying on my parents' grave. 'The last enemy that shall be
destroyed is death.' Hermione said it meant that we can keep the dead alive by remembering them. That they live
on, through us. And I told her—" His voice cracked. He paused, then started again. "I told her I didn't think I was
doing a good job of keeping them alive, since I didn't even know them. It wasn't like Sirius, who I could imagine
in almost every room. But now—now I'll be able to do it."

Lily reached up and wiped away a few tears that had fallen onto Harry's cheeks. She was wearing a sad smile as
she said, "I'm glad James and I were able to help you keep them alive. They deserve that, for all they were forced
to give up."

"Yeah," Harry breathed.

"Do you promise to remember them then? Even when it hurts? Remember us, remember the trip, the war, and
everyone you lost. Don't try to shove it all to the side."

"Yeah," Harry repeated. "I promise."

"Good." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You can do it, Harry. You're going to get past this. And don't forget,
you're not alone." She gestured toward where Hermione was dancing with his dad.

Harry simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

They danced in silence for a few minutes while Harry tried to compose himself. Once the next song started up,
his dad cut in, saying he fancied a dance with his wife, and Harry found himself standing in front of a sad-looking
Hermione. "We can go—er—sit," he suggested, cocking his head toward their table.

"You don't want to dance with me?"

Harry didn't waste any time. He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her close while she linked her hands
behind his neck.

"I'm sad," Hermione said.

"Me too."
 They exchanged small smiles, then stayed quiet for the next few songs. They didn't need to say more. They both
knew what the other was thinking.

A few songs later, the band ceased playing and a man announced that the lights were out so it was time for
everyone to enjoy a different type of song. Even then, Harry and Hermione didn't pull apart. She rested her head
on his chest. He moved his hands to her back. And they stayed there, embracing, long after all the other couples
had left the patio.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: "It's not forgetting that heals. It's remembering," is not my line (or Dumbledore's). It belongs to Amy
Greene.
 Journey Home
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

They spent the next few hours under the stars. With dinner over, the tables disappeared and the chairs were
transformed so they reclined. The lights around the restaurant dimmed to almost nothing. The only illumination
left behind was the faint glowing of the boardwalk, to keep people from tripping as they walked.

As Harry watched the sky and let the song of the stars fill his chest, Hermione reached out and laced her fingers
with his. He turned to her, causing the song to cut out, and saw a mix of emotions on her face. Harry got up and
shifted his chair closer to her, so the armrests were touching, and when he sat back down, she curled into him,
linking her arm in his and resting her head on his shoulder.

During their dance, they'd come to an unspoken agreement to push romance to the side and simply support each
other at the end of the trip, which was going to be difficult for both of them. Hope coursed through him, and as he
listened to his complicated song and was hit with another rush of self-compassion, he became more sure than he
had been the whole trip, that if he stayed patient and showed Hermione he was serious about her, they'd find
happiness together, one day.

Just like the night before, they all took turns watching the sky and telling stories. Hermione stayed quiet for most
of the conversation and let Harry and his parents talk. She remained nuzzled into his side and fortunately, his
parents didn't draw attention to it or say anything else to scare her away.

Harry was relieved since he needed her there. He needed the warmth, the solidity—the reminder that he wasn't
alone in this, as one of the last conversations he'd ever have with his parents passed far too quickly, just like
dinner had.

Harry covered the few good stories from his life left to tell: play-by-plays of some of his best Quidditch matches,
the time he'd used Felix Felices to get a memory from Slughorn, and funny moments from the weeks spent
cleaning up Grimmauld Place before Fifth Year. His parents told them how James had proposed to Lily, about
their wedding and then, shortly after that, how Lily had learned of her unexpected pregnancy.

As they walked up the path to their tent just before dawn, Lily was still finishing up the last of her stories, telling
Harry about his birth and sharing stories of how he'd been as a baby. Once at the tent, Hermione wished everyone
a good night and they agreed to meet at noon to pack up and return to England. She went upstairs, wanting to give
Harry and his parents some time alone.

Hermione was currently sitting on the bed and flipping through the last of the photos they'd brought from the
other Harry and Hermione's flat. She'd already washed up for the night and changed into her pajamas, plaid
bottoms with a grey tank top, and was about to set the photos to the side when Harry walked into the room.

"Hey."

"Hi."

He'd removed his outer robes but was still wearing a light grey button-down with black slacks. It looked like he'd
started unbuttoning his shirt, then changed his mind, so the top three buttons of his shirt were open, revealing
some of the dark hairs on his chest. A chest that she knew was accentuated by lean muscles. Couple that with his
tidier than normal hair which was pulled out of his face, making his green eyes look brighter and… Yeah, Harry
looked good. Really good. She dropped her eyes.

"Anything interesting?" he asked, noticing the box of photos on the bed.

Just you. "Um, yeah, actually," Hermione said shakily, looking down at the box as she tried to push her
inappropriate thoughts about Harry to the side. She picked up the photo at the top of the pile and held it out to
him. "Take a look at this."

Harry sat on the bed and took the photo from her hand. It was taken during the other Harry and Hermione's last
year at Hogwarts. Neville was at the center of the picture, sitting at a table in one of the smaller Greenhouses used
for advanced study. Ginny and Ron were sitting on either side of him and they were all laughing at the plant on
the table.

There was a small tree in a pot with six arms swaying rhythmically. If Hermione had to guess, there was music
playing, probably out of Neville's raised wand, and the tree was moving in time to the song. Every so often, Ron
looked up and shimmied his shoulders, which made both Ginny and Neville laugh.

"What am I looking at?" Harry asked, his lips turning up slightly.

"I believe that plant is related to the Whomping Willow."

"Looks more like a Waltzing Willow."

"Good one." She smiled and shifted closer to him, leaning over him to look at the photo. "I think what struck me
about this was that it proved that even with all the differences between the Neville in this world and the one in
ours, he maintained his passion for Herbology. It's clear he's the one studying the plant. You can see the notebook
and quill in front of him."

Harry leaned forward and nodded. She was right, only Neville had a notebook. Ron and Ginny just seemed to be
there for a laugh.

"It's similar to how you took to Quidditch in our world," Hermione continued. "Parts of us, they're just, inherent.
And I—I don't know. I find that so interesting."

Harry's eyes drifted to Ginny. Hermione searched his face for signs of distress, but he just looked curious as he
asked, "Do you think Neville and Ginny were together here? You have that uncanny ability to read things off the
photos."

Not with the other Hermione and Ron, she thought. "I don't think so. They just look like friends. Plus, your
parents said they just started dating in this world and this was taken a year and a half ago."

Harry hummed. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Ginny dating Neville in this world. Was it real or did she
only like him because he was the Boy Who Lived? Had she had a crush on Neville her entire childhood? Or
maybe they were just dating casually and it would fizzle out. Did Harry care? Did pinpointing exactly where
things had gone wrong between him and Ginny really matter, or was the fact that it was over enough?

"I didn't mean to get you down," Hermione said in a soft voice.

"I'm fine," Harry said, tossing the photo back into the box. "Oh." He reached forward and picked out a photo he
recognized from the pile. "This is one of my favorites." He showed Hermione a picture of the other Hermione
brewing potions. "I came across this the first night of the trip and couldn't get over how serene she looked."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I saw that one."

"I want this for you. This peace," he said in a throaty whisper that sent a chill through Hermione. When her eyes
met his, he was watching her with that admiring look she still wasn't used to. A bead of warmth slid down her
spine. They were really close. Only a few inches separated their lips. She looked down at his mouth now, just to
be sure she'd got the distance right, and he caught her looking.

She blushed and leaned back slightly. "The other Hermione meditates. Maybe—um—maybe I'll start too.
Though, uh, I always thought I'd be dreadful at it. Can't turn my brain off…"
Except for now. She was having trouble remembering all the reasons she shouldn't be sitting here, this close to
him.

It was Harry who moved away first. He put the photos back in the box and moved them onto the bedside table. "I
guess we should sleep. I came in here to get my pajamas."

He started to pull himself out of the bed when Hermione grabbed his arm. "Stay."

He sat back on the bed and turned to face her. "What?"

Hermione looked down at her hand, which was still on his arm. She didn't know what had come over her,
probably just desperation at the fact that this was their last night in this world, and likely her last chance to
pretend that they could be something one day. "It's our last night," she said, keeping her eyes down, "and I want
you to stay."

"Why?"

She shrugged and tried to pull her hand away, but he covered it with his, keeping it in place. "I know you haven't
been sleeping well on the couch and I haven't been sleeping well either and—I don't know—I just thought—
there's just one night left and—I don't know."

"Is that why you're asking? Because it's our last night here?"

"You're right. It was a bad idea and we shouldn't—"

"No. We shouldn't," he agreed. Harry reached his hand out and tilted her chin up. "I'm going to sleep downstairs
tonight because I'm sure it's not the last night for us." His lips twitched up before he added, "We'll be sharing a
bed for many, many nights."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his confidence.

"You told me in China that you don't believe in soul mates, that there are a lot of people out there we could end up
happy with, but you're wrong."

"I am?" she breathed, completely caught up in the intensity of his gaze.

"I know soulmates exist, because you're mine."

Hermione's breath hitched.

"I end up with you in every world. I know it," he continued as the look of determination in his eyes seared
through her. "Sometimes we figure it out early, like in this world. Sometimes we figure it out just in time, like in
ours, and in others, maybe we marry the wrong people and have to deal with messy divorces down the line. Either
way, I know that unless one of us is dead, we end up finding our way to each other."

Harry leaned forward and grazed his lips against the side of her mouth, so softly she wondered if she'd imagined
the touch. Either way, it lit her body on fire. He dropped her chin and finally climbed off the bed. Hermione
watched him rummage around his trunk for his pajamas, unsure what to say after something like that. He stood up
and when he reached the doorway, he said, "Sleep well, Hermione," before closing the canvas flap.

She wondered if he'd meant it ironically, since there was no way she was going to be able to sleep soundly after
that.

Later that day, Hermione and Lily were walking up the path from Hogsmeade to the front gates of Hogwarts.
Hermione was studying the Marauder's Map she'd found in the other Harry's desk at their flat in London, while
Lily held a Water Repellent Charm above their heads to shield them from the light drizzle.

After James's insistence that no Muggleborn witches in his family would be setting foot in Knockturn Alley, the
boys had taken the task of going to Gringotts for money, then to Borgin and Burkes to purchase the jade amulet
Hermione showed Harry in her mind, while the girls went to Hogwarts to get the Deluminator.

"There's a secret passage that goes from a rowan tree outside the west side of the gates to a nook off a corridor on
the third floor," Hermione announced. "That's what I used to get into the castle last time and it looks like the area
around it is mostly empty, so that's lucky."

"No," Lily said simply.

"What?"

"I have a better idea."

"And what is that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the edge out of her tone.

Lily's lips twitched. "You'll see."

Hermione folded up the map and walked with Lily, stopping when they reached the gates. "Okay," Hermione
said, placing her hands on her hips and turning to face Lily. "What now?"

Lily remained impassive. "Be patient."

Hermione took the map out and when she saw a dot coming up the path, she gasped. "You told her?"

Lily shrugged. "Why not? It's so much better than sneaking around, huddled under that Invisibility Cloak."

"But—what did you tell her? And when?"

"I sent an owl from that town on Hølen."

Hermione nodded. She remembered being confused about Lily's insistence that she needed to run an errand in
town before they left. "Okay. And what did you tell her?"

"That we needed to look through some of Dumbledore's gadgets. Sometimes the truth is best, Hermione.
Especially when I can say I'll explain everything later, without any intention of doing so," she added with a wink.

Hermione shook her head. She thought again how Lily probably would have ended up in Slytherin, had she not
been a Muggleborn, and would have done very well there, as they waited for McGonagall to appear.

Professor McGonagall looked exactly the same as her counterpart in Hermione's world. The only difference was
in how she greeted Hermione, with a firm hug. Hermione had to keep from stiffening in surprise as she hugged
her favorite professor back. She reminded herself that this Hermione had lived at Order Headquarters for months
and had therefore become close with all its members.

"Have you thought more about my offer?" McGonagall asked as she pulled away, still gripping Hermione by the
shoulders.

Hermione's eyes darted to Lily, who just shrugged.

"Uh, yes," Hermione said nervously. "I'm still thinking about it."

"Take your time, my dear." She started walking back toward the castle and motioned for Lily and Hermione to
follow, pausing for a moment to recast the Water Repellent Charm over her head. "It'll be years before you can
teach here," McGonagall continued, "but it's never too soon to start planning. I'd be honored to have you as a
colleague one day, Miss Granger." She paused and said over her shoulder, "Well, I supposed that won't be your
name for long. You'll be Mrs. Potter soon. Then there will be two of you."

Lily beamed at Hermione, who quickly averted her gaze. Mrs. Potter. She pushed the engagement ring she was
wearing around on her finger. Why was she still wearing it? She told herself it was out of habit, and that she was
using it as a reminder that she was engaged back home, but that was a weak excuse.
It's because you like the idea of being engaged to Harry. Because you want to be Mrs. Potter, instead of Mrs.
Weasley.

Hermione shook her head and focused back on the other witches. Lily was telling McGonagall about their trip,
listing out all the Wonders they'd seen. Hermione jumped into the conversation, eager for a distraction from her
thoughts.

Less than an hour later, Lily and Hermione were back at the entrance gates, this time with Dumbledore's
Deluminator tucked safely in an inside pocket of Hermione's robes. Lily was right, her way had been much easier.
They'd found the Deluminator within minutes of arriving in McGonagall's office, since Hermione knew exactly
where to look, then passed the rest of the time having tea with the Headmistress.

"That was a good idea, Lily. Thank you," Hermione managed to force out as they walked down the path to
Hogsmeade.

"You have a tendency to over-complicate things," Lily said in response.

"Well, in my defense, I knew nothing about this world and Hermione's relationship with McGonagall the last two
times I was here. I wouldn't have known if it was appropriate to just ask to go through Dumbledore's things."

Lily just shrugged and they walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the Apparition point, which
was on the side of one of the shops, shielded from the rain by a large awning, Lily turned to Hermione and
grabbed both of her hands.

Hermione's eyes welled with tears. This was it. Time to say goodbye. They'd get one more chance, after they
traveled back in time two weeks, but this was their last chance to speak in private. Several tears began to fall
down Hermione's face. She wasn't ready.

"I have no idea how to begin to say goodbye to you, Hermione," Lily started, holding her hands firmly. "So I
won't even try." She pulled Hermione into a tight hug. "I love you."

Hermione nodded into her shoulder. "I love you too, Lily. I'm going to think about you all the time."

Lily was smiling as she pulled away. She moved her hands up and pushed Hermione's hair back before gripping
her shoulders. "Promise me you'll take care of him. No matter what happens between you two, I need to know
you're going to be by his side."

"Of course," Hermione said, relieved Lily had asked her to make a promise she knew she could keep. "I'm not
going anywhere."

Lily searched her face, probably looking for a hint of a lie, but there was none there. Lily smiled again, then fixed
Hermione with a stern glare. "You need to find your pillars, okay? Find the things in your life that are most
important, then align yourself with them each day, and then… live. Just live, Hermione, okay? The fighting is
over—you won—and now it's time to live."

Hermione was crying fully now. The thought of going home in a few hours scared her. She was terrified of trying
to make it without the support of this incredible witch. Someone she really did love, even after just two weeks of
knowing her. Someone Hermione would miss more than she ever thought possible. Hermione had thought she
was sad on Harry's behalf, which she was, but she was also sad for herself. Lily and James understood her so
well. They'd welcomed her with open arms, been patient with her, and pushed her when she needed it. And Lily,
especially, had been wonderful.

Lily knew what it was like to be a Muggleborn. She knew what it was like to be ambitious—struggling to balance
that constant drive to achieve more with being content with where she was now. She knew what it was like to
love someone so much it hurt without it becoming too overwhelming. Lily was the person Hermione wanted to be
when she grew up. She was devastated that she was forced to say goodbye almost as soon as she'd discovered the
mentor she didn't even know she needed.
"I'll try," Hermione choked out. She dropped her head and several tears fell onto the wet stone.

"No," Lily said, tilting Hermione's face up. "You're not just going to try. You're going to figure it out. I know you,
Hermione, and I know you can do this. You're lost now, but you're going to find your way. And whenever you
doubt yourself, remember that this Hermione figured it out, and she's not even as smart as you," she ended with a
conspiratory whisper.

Hermione gave her a teary smile. Lily pressed their foreheads together, then leaned back and started wiping
Hermione's face with a handkerchief she'd conjured. "I think that's enough of a heart-to-heart. If we do this for
much longer, we're going to turn into two puddles of tears," Lily murmured. "Unless you have anything else you
want to say?"

Hermione shook her head. "Just that I'm going to miss you terribly and that I sort of hate the other Hermione for
getting to talk to you whenever she wants."

Lily smiled. She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief before vanishing it, then held her wand up. "Ready?
Let's see if the boys managed to keep themselves out of trouble."

"Yeah," Hermione said, pulling her wand out of her robes. "Let's go."

When Lily and Hermione arrived at the meeting spot, a dark alley outside the guest entrance to the Ministry,
Harry and James were already there. "You weren't kidding about this costing a fortune," James said after they
arrived, holding the amulet out to Hermione. "This is it, right?"

Hermione nodded. "Perfect, thanks. And don't worry about the money. It'll be back in your vault once we go back
in time. Then there will be two copies of the amulet and Deluminator until we bring these copies into the portal to
the other worlds. Then they'll sort of...disappear, and everything will be as it was."

It was still too early to break into the Ministry, since Hermione wanted to wait until well after work hours, to
ensure the Department of Mysteries would be empty, so they went to a Muggle cafe to pass the time. While there,
Hermione explained how they would be breaking in. She told them that anyone without magic could walk right
into the Department of Mysteries, so they would need to temporarily shed their magic. Since Hermione wouldn't
be able to walk through the door in this world, as she had done in hers, they would use the amulet to store their
magic.

"The problem is, the amulet has a limited capacity," Hermione was saying as she absently stirred her tea. "I won't
know for sure until I check how much power we have, but I'm pretty sure it can only fit the magic of two of us,
which just means we'll need to take turns going in."

"You can check that?" James asked. "How much power someone has?"

"Yes," she said simply. "Hopefully, none of you is exceedingly powerful, like Dumbledore, because that would
cause a bit of a problem, since we need to be able to get at least two people through the door at a time for this to
work, ideally more."

"I think you're safe," Lily said with a small laugh. "I'm not hiding any excessive magical capacity anywhere and I
don't think James and Harry are, either."

"Who do you think is the most powerful?" James asked with a grin.

They took turns going around the table and guessing. Everyone guessed Hermione except for Hermione, who
guessed Harry.

"I think you're confusing knowing lots of spells with having a lot of power," she explained. "Harry's very
powerful. His Patronus in Third Year chased away nearly a hundred dementors, he was the only student in our
Defense Against the Dark Arts class who could shake the Imperius Curse on the first try, and he's one of the few
wizards in history, maybe even the only one, who has successfully possessed all three Hallows."
"You're making me blush," Harry quipped.

Hermione just shrugged and turned back to James and Lily. "And if I had to guess, he got that power from both of
you. I might even be the least powerful one in the group."

"That doesn't bother you?" James asked. "You're usually so competitive."

"I can't control how much magic I'm born with. Plus, I know more spells than all of you combined and you'd be
completely lost without me, so I still win," she said matter-of-factly, which made everyone at the table laugh.

An hour later, while the group stood outside the door to the Department of Mysteries, Hermione was proven right.
She cast a spell over everyone to check their magical capacity and the orb that appeared in front of Harry's chest
was the largest, followed by Lily's, then James's and Hermione's, which were nearly the same size.

"Good," Hermione murmured, vanishing the glowing orbs with her wand. "We should be able to fit two people's
magic in here."

She pulled the amulet out of her robes and cast a modified version of the spell she'd used with Harry back in their
world to transfer his magic to her. Her magic left her with a hiss and Harry thought she looked immediately paler.

"Okay, Harry," she said, turning to him. "We need to move quickly. Repeat after me, okay?"

They trapped Harry's magic in the amulet next and that empty feeling came over him. Hermione asked Lily to
recast the spell to check Harry's magical capacity and was relieved when no orbs of light appeared. "Good. It all
fit," she muttered under her breath.

Next, Hermione guided Harry through the familiar black door, then past the circular hall into a mostly empty
room with nothing but a loveseat and a portrait of a group of people with no heads. "Perfect," Hermione said
when she saw the portrait, "no one else is here." She turned to Harry and talked him through the incantations that
would release his magic from the amulet.

Once he had his magic back, Hermione dashed out of the room. He knew she was trying to get all of them into the
Department of Mysteries in under ten minutes, after which it would be considerably more difficult for her to
recapture her magic from the amulet. Harry set a timer on his wand, starting at three minutes to account for the
time that had already passed since Hermione had given up her magic.

At five and a half minutes, Hermione burst into the room with Lily. She worked quickly to return Lily's magic,
then sprinted out of the room again. At eight minutes and forty-five seconds, she came in with James. She was
about to walk James through the process of restoring his magic when Harry caught her elbow. "No. Do yours
first. You've been without it for longer."

She started to protest, then gave him a curt nod and started speaking the incantations. The jade amulet glowed in
her hand and she let out a sigh of relief as the color returned to her cheeks. She handed the jade amulet to James
and once his magic was back, he declared that he never wanted to be without it again.

"What about when you return to Fall's End?" Harry asked. "You're not going to try to find Enlightenment with the
other Harry and Hermione?"

James groaned. "Right. I think I'll suggest we enjoy the view of the waterfall and move on. Maybe spend an extra
day at the Sanctuary instead."

"Good plan," Hermione said, though it was clear her mind was elsewhere. "Let's go." She led them back to the
circular room with the doors and was about to walk through one of them, then seemed to remember something
and pulled her hand away from the knob. "Um, Harry. You're going to recognize this room."

"Oh?" he asked as his chest clenched tightly. Was it going to be the room where Sirius had died? He didn't think
he could handle that. Not today, when he was going to be forced to say goodbye to his parents.
"Not that one," she said quickly, guessing at his thoughts. "The one with the bell jar."

"Oh, right. Yeah...I should have guessed." He remembered that glittering crystal bell jar that had made the Death
Eater's head turn into that of a baby's. "Time, right?"

Hermione nodded. James and Lily were watching the interchange with solemn expressions, but didn't say
anything.

"I'll be fine, thanks for the warning," Harry said, taking a deep breath to clear the tightness in his chest. Hermione
reached for his hand and linked their fingers together before turning back to the door.

The room was just like Harry remembered it, filled with a bright, glittering light. Clocks still lined the walls,
causing a relentless ticking to fill the room. This time, there wasn't a bird in the bell jar, but a toad. As it drifted
downward, it turned into a tadpole. Lily let out a gasp.

"Okay," Hermione said, unimpressed. "This way."

She pulled Harry toward a bookshelf on the left side of the room which was filled with small clocks, rather than
books. Hermione reached for a large bronze pocket watch on the top shelf, flipped open the lid, then vanished the
glass with her wand. She gently turned the hands so the time matched the time on her wristwatch, then restored
the glass and placed the watch back on the shelf. As soon as the bronze touched the wood of the shelf, there was
a click as something released. Hermione grabbed the edge of the bookshelf and pulled it toward them to reveal a
hidden room on the other side.

"What's the point of hiding rooms inside the Department of Mysteries, which is already well-protected?" James
asked as they walked into the secret room.

"It's not impossible to break into the Department of Mysteries, as we've just proven," Hermione said, leading the
way through the narrow room. "And this room is especially dangerous."

Harry's head whipped around as they walked. At first, he thought the room was dark, then realized it was lit about
as well as a standard room, with floating lamps hanging along the walls, but just seemed dark compared to the
extreme brightness of the previous room. He was currently walking by a series of mirrors and stopped in place
when he caught sight of his father on the other side. "Wha—?"

He backtracked and as he did so, he watched James grow younger. Then, he realized it wasn't his father in the
mirror, it was him. His green eyes and more oval face, like his mother's, marked the difference between them.

Lily, who had stopped to watch Harry, let out a small cry when he walked back in front of the mirror that made
him look like he was his dad's age. "Merlin, is that you?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry nodded.

"You really do look like James. It's so much more obvious when you're both the same age. Hey, James, come over
here."

James smiled widely when he saw Harry in the mirror. "Very handsome," he commended. "You're welcome, for
those brilliant genes I passed on to you."

Harry laughed, then pulled his dad backward to the mirror that made his dad look like he was twenty again. They
looked a little less similar, though still alarmingly alike. They walked slowly down the hall, finding they became
more similar in appearance as they aged.

Lily was waiting at the end of the row, laughing at them, then turned and jumped when she caught sight of herself
in the mirror. "Oh, dear! I look just like my Great Grandmum."

James joined her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well, that is a very good-looking old couple." She
laughed, then kissed his cheek. Harry felt a pang in his chest for the Lily and James in his time, who never aged
past those first few mirrors.
"Are you all done?" Hermione asked. She was standing ahead of them with her hands on her hips.

"What's the rush?" James asked. "We're about to go back in time, aren't we?"

"We shouldn't dawdle," Hermione replied. "An Unspeakable could come in at any—"

"Hey, Hermione!" Harry called from the mirror that made him look like he was his parents' age. He was
pretending to have missed the interchange between her and James. "Come here. I want to see what you look like."

"Why?"

He shot her a playful grin. "Because if you don't age gracefully, I'm probably going to change my mind about
wanting to be with you."

James guffawed while Lily said, "Harry, that's not the best way to woo a woman."

But Hermione was smiling. She turned to Lily. "I got the sense your Harry was rather charming but you should
know, this Harry is dreadful with witches."

"I really am," Harry confirmed, motioning again for Hermione to join him.

Hermione huffed, but still started walking toward him while James said, "Yeah, we're seeing that." He winked at
Harry behind Hermione's back and Harry had to keep from looking too smug. He may be "dreadful with witches,"
but he'd convinced her to join him, hadn't he?

When Hermione reached his side, they turned and looked in the mirror together. "You really do look like your
dad," Hermione said. "It's eerie."

"You don't really look like your mum," he said, studying her reflection. She looked about the same as she did
now, just with a few more lines on her face. Her hair had some strands of grey, like his mum's hair, but was still
wild and curly, and her eyes were shining bright with amusement. He smiled when his gaze met hers in the
mirror.

"Well?" she asked. "What's the verdict?"

"I think I'll stick with the original plan," he said with a grin.

"And what's that?"

"To pester you until you agree to be with me."

She rolled her eyes and started making her way back to his parents. Harry chased after her, watching as her
reflection changed in the mirrors. Her hair turned grey, she grew thinner, and more lines appeared on her face. But
she was still, undeniably, Hermione, which was most evident by her eyes, which remained large and dazzling,
even when she was a hunched-over, old woman.

"That pestering tactic works. You'll see," James said when they reached the end of the mirrors, wrapping his arm
around Lily's waist.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on. We've wasted enough time."

Hermione stopped at the end of the room in front of a large, glass cabinet that held about thirty Time Turners. She
knew immediately which one she wanted, reaching for a small black one near the bottom. "This one has a short
range but is very precise, which is exactly what we need," she explained to Harry.

Harry just nodded. He wasn't in any position to question her judgment. Next, she turned to what looked like a
wardrobe with a large clock on the left door. Hermione pulled out her wand and fiddled with the clock for several
minutes, then opened the wardrobe to reveal a vortex of colors that reminded Harry of springtime.

"Wow," Lily gasped. "Is that...the portal?"

"Yes," Hermione said simply.

"It's lovely."

"Yes," Hermione repeated. "Every time my boss sees it, he declares, 'Time is a beautiful thing.'"

Harry nodded. It really was lovely. The portal was the crisp blue of the sky on a clear day mixed with the color of
bright green grass and wildflowers. He could feel a cool breeze emanating from the swirling hues and could
almost imagine the smell of blooming flowers and the feel of warm, sunny rays on his skin.

"I feel the need to warn you one more time—" Hermione began, but was quickly cut off by James.

"You've told us the risks. We're doing this."

Hermione sighed. "Okay. Well then, I guess this is, um, goodbye. I set the clock for 6:00 pm on that Thursday
night, two weeks ago. You'll appear in your bodies in whatever location you were in at the time, which I assume
was your house, preparing for dinner?"

James and Lily nodded.

"Okay then—um—I guess this is goodbye."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned to face him. "When we take the Time Turner back, we'll reappear in this same room. It's easier
to just go home from here, rather than trying to meet up with them again. That way we won't have to break into
the Department of Mysteries a second time."

"But I—I have a letter for them." Harry pulled an envelope from his pocket. "It's, er, for the other Harry," he
explained.

James's face broke into a heartbreaking smile. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. It might not help, but I don't think it will hurt." He looked at Hermione, who was biting her lip.
"How do I get this to them?"

"They can't take it with them," she said, "since it will be lost in the portal. But we can take it back in time with the
Time Turner, then send it to them using the mail system at the Ministry. We should be able to send it to the front
desk without having to leave the Department of Mysteries, then they will send it on to them using an owl in the
morning. They'll probably get it right before they leave for their trip."

"Oh. Okay," Harry said, looking down at the letter and trying to hide the disappointment in his tone.

"Or…" she continued. Harry perked up. "We could leave the Department of Mysteries, meet them at Godric's
Hollow for a final goodbye, then break back in."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," she sighed as he engulfed her in a large hug.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she gasped, struggling to breathe through the tight embrace. "Now let go of me. I need to adjust the time of
the portal. I'm going to add another thirty minutes to give us more time. It's imperative that we jump into the
portal back to our world one second before we arrived."

Once Harry let go of her, she closed the door of the wardrobe, used her wand to spin the clock back thirty
minutes, then opened the door again. "Okay," she said, stepping aside to make room for James and Lily. "We'll
see you in the past."
There was a quick round of hugs, which Hermione said was unnecessary, since this was definitely going to work,
then Lily and James grabbed hands and stepped into the vortex.

Harry watched them spin around, getting smaller as they made their way to the center of the spiral, and then, they
abruptly blinked out of sight. His stomach lurched. "They're not gone yet," Hermione said as she grabbed his arm
and led him back to the entrance of the Department of Mysteries. He focused on her firm grip as he tried to push
the thought of his parents blinking out of sight from his mind. When they were in the first room she'd led them to
again, the one with the loveseat, she turned to him and placed the Time Turner around their necks.

Hermione fiddled with the dials around the small hourglass and once the time interval was set, she looked back
up at him, her eyes determined. "We need to be quick, okay?"

"Yeah," Harry breathed, struggling to speak through the tightness in his throat.

She lifted a cool hand to his cheek. "We're going to be okay, Harry. And I really am sorry for the rush, but I
thought it would be better if we didn't draw it out."

"Yeah, you're probably right." He raised a hand to cover hers, then grabbed her side with his other hand as he took
a step closer to her. "I'm ready."

She cocked her head to the left. "There's an Apparition point on the other side of that sofa. Once in the past, we'll
go to Godric's Hollow from there."

"Okay."

She smiled softly. "Ready for another time travel adventure? Hopefully less eventful than the last one."

He forced out a laugh and tightened his grip on her side. "Sure."

Hermione began to spin the tiny hourglass and that strange feeling that Harry had felt the last time he'd done this,
like he was flying backward, came over him. He closed his eyes as a blur of shapes and colors surrounded them,
opening them once he felt solid ground under his feet.

Hermione stepped back and her head snapped to the portrait above the loveseat. There were still no heads on any
of the people in the picture, which seemed to be a good thing. She cast a spell to check the time, then nodded and
made her way to the side of the couch where a small circle of the ground was glowing faintly. "Do you want to
—?" she began to ask.

"Ladies first," Harry cut in.

"Okay. I'll see you there." She turned on her toe and disappeared with a pop.

Once he was alone in the room, Harry took a deep breath. This was it. Time to finally say goodbye. He blinked
back several tears, stepped onto the Apparition point, pictured the doorstep of his parents' house, and
Disapparated.

Lily opened the front door as soon as she felt a shimmer in the wards surrounding the house, signaling someone's
arrival. It was Hermione, looking at her warily. "Well?" Hermione asked.

"It worked," Lily said as Hermione walked into the house. "We remember the trip, that you're from another world,
the time portal, everything."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"Why do you look so relieved?" James asked, coming into the hall and leaning casually against the wall. "You
said you were sure this was going to work."

She gave a small shrug as Harry appeared on the doorstep behind her. "Did it work?" he asked immediately.
Lily nodded and watched him smile tentatively, like he was worried if he showed too much joy, someone would
take it away from him. Lily's heart ached. This was one of those quirks that belonged completely to him, not her
Harry. She wondered how he'd managed to fool her for over a week, since the differences between him and her
son were so obvious. She imagined this was how mums with twins, like Molly, could tell who was who—not by
looking for differences in appearance, but in mannerisms.

Harry was standing in front of her now, his face filled with so many emotions, she couldn't even begin to name
them. This man had taken her completely by surprise and she'd grown to love him so deeply, you'd never guess
that just two weeks ago, she didn't even know he existed. And now, Lily had no idea how she was supposed to
say goodbye.

"Mum," he whispered.

"Harry," she whispered back. Tears were already beginning to fall down her cheeks. She cupped his face in her
hands. "I love you so much and I'm going to think about you every day," she said, her voice shaking.

"Me too."

Lily threw her arms around him. He folded his frame around her and gripped her with strong arms. She wanted to
say more, articulate just how much she loved him, how proud of him she was, how sorry she was that the other
Lily hadn't been there for him, and how much she was going to miss him, but the words caught in her throat. So,
she tried to impart them in her hug, instead.

It was over too soon. Harry stepped back and went to James at the side of the room. Lily watched Harry pull a
letter out of his robes and her heart swelled as she pictured him writing it back in Norway. Poor Harry. It must be
so hard for him, being faced with this other world, where another version of himself had enjoyed all the things he
was denied. But in the midst of that, he'd taken it upon himself to try to help mend the rift in their family. Lily had
to blink back a new round of tears that were threatening to fall.

She looked around and spotted Hermione lingering on the opposite wall. She looked shyly at Lily, as if unsure if
Lily would want to talk to her. Lily closed the distance between them and pulled Hermione into a hug. She was
stiff at first, but melted into Lily after a few seconds. "Remember your promise?" Lily murmured into her hair.

Hermione nodded as she pulled back. Lily could tell by the look in Hermione's eyes that she meant it. She had no
intention of pushing Harry away. Even if things didn't work out for them romantically, which was highly unlikely,
Hermione would always reserve a spot for him in her heart.

"Lily. The other Hermione and her wound," Hermione began, talking in a rush. "I've been thinking about it all day
and I'm worried she'll struggle to have children."

Lily shook her head and gave Hermione what she hoped was a comforting smile. This witch spent way too much
of her time worrying—usually about the wellbeing of others, instead of herself. "The Healers checked her for
that," Lily explained calmly. "Her reproductive organs are intact and her cycles are regular. She'll be fine. You
don't need to worry about her."

"She may be okay anatomically, but there's a possibility the Dark Magic will cause trouble. I've read about it
happening in rare cases, but it can be controlled, if you know what to look for. You need an expert, okay?"

Lily nodded dutifully.

"Reach out to Damien Miller. He's an Unspeakable and knows more about the composition of Dark Magic than
anyone. He'll help; I know he will. And you can trust him. You can tell him everything and he—he'll love it. He
loves insane things. He also loves breaking the rules."

"Okay," Lily said. "Got it. Damien Miller."

"And if anything goes wrong with you and James," Hermione continued, the words spilling out of her mouth,
"headaches, illnesses that won't go away, a feeling like you're floating outside your body, memory loss, a sudden
onset of overwhelming terror—anything out of the ordinary, go to Miller and tell him about the time portal. He
can help with that, too."

"Yes, we'll reach out to him if we need to."

"And the spell to heal the other Hermione. Do you remember the incantations? Do I need to write them down?"

"Hermione." Lily placed her hands on either side of her face. "You never turn it off, do you?"

Tears welled in Hermione's beautiful brown eyes.

"We're going to be fine, Hermione," Lily said gently. "You don't need to worry about us, okay? When you get
back to your world, you focus on yourself."

Hermione nodded and Lily saw her lip quiver. She pulled her into another firm embrace. "I love you, dear."

"I love you, too," Hermione responded tearily.

When Hermione stepped out of Lily's arms, she went straight to Harry and curled into his side. Lily saw her sway
slightly and noticed then how pale she looked. Harry seemed to notice Hermione's exhaustion at the same time.
"You okay?" he asked, eyes swimming with concern as he looked down at her.

"I'm just tired. I used a lot of magic back at the Ministry and the wound—it doesn't hurt as much, but it still takes
a lot out of me."

"You should have said," he scolded. "I could have come alone. I know how to get back in with the amulet now."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she whispered back. "Where you go, I go."

A strong arm encircled Lily's waist as she watched Harry kiss the top of Hermione's head. When he looked back
at them, his eyes were wet with tears. Lily smiled at him, trying to convey all the words she hadn't had time to
say.

"I love you guys," he said as he opened the door, fumbling with the knob.

Lily wanted to hug him again, but knew if she did that, she'd never let go. She wrapped her arms around James
instead. "We love you too. Good luck, though with Hermione with you, I don't think you'll need it."

Hermione gave Lily a weak smile before letting Harry pull her outside. Lily watched them have one of those
silent arguments couples have and smiled inwardly. She wished she could be there when Hermione finally gave in
and let Harry know just how desperately she loved him.

Harry appeared to have won the argument, which seemed to be about whether or not Hermione was going to let
him take her back to the Ministry using Side-Along Apparition to conserve her magic. She grudgingly wrapped
her hand around his forearm, then they turned and gave James and Lily a final wave before popping out of sight.

James closed the door with a wave of his hand and pulled Lily against his chest as a fresh wave of sorrow washed
over her. She cried into his chest for several moments before she felt strong enough to step back and stand on her
own. James's eyes were wet and he wiped them with the back of his hand before taking Harry's letter out of his
pocket.

"You're not going to read that," she said sternly.

"The last thing he left behind? Of course I am. Plus, he didn't seal it. I'm sure he knew I'd read it."

"Fine," she sighed. She couldn't deny she was curious to see what Harry had written. She tucked herself under
James's arm as he flipped open the folded sheets of parchment. Lily smiled when she saw the messy scrawl, so
similar to her Harry's.

Harry,
First off, thank you for loaning me your body. I know you didn't have a say in the matter, nor any memory of
having done so, but I'm grateful, nonetheless.

Secondly, you're being an idiot. I know why you're angry with your parents, but you've punished them enough.
War is not fun. You should be glad you missed out on it. Do you know how much I wish someone had whisked me
away to safety?

Also, imagine for a moment if another war broke out and you had the opportunity to send Hermione away and
keep her safe. We both know you'd do it in a heartbeat, despite her protests.

And by pushing them away, you're just depriving yourself of happiness. I got to spend two weeks with them and I
will remember every second for the rest of my life. I'll replay it all in my mind: every conversation, every joke,
every game, even the moments we spent in silence. I'm going to have to sustain a lifetime of remembering with
just two weeks, but you don't have to.

You have your whole life with them. Don't waste it. You're lucky to have them and if you don't see that, then you
don't deserve them.

Lastly, never take Hermione for granted. I'm not sure if this is something you've ever done, but I have, which
means you're not the only idiot who's inhabited this body. Treat her well and shower her with love and praise
every moment you get. I want her to be happy, no matter what world she's in. She's your soulmate, by the way, in
case you hadn't already figured it out.

Okay, enough lecturing. I've never been that great at writing letters. Goodbye, thanks again for the body, and
please, stop being a prat.

-Harry

Lily laughed when she reached the end of the letter. "Blunt."

"That's Harry for you," James said as he folded up the pages and returned them to his pocket. "He gets it from
you."

"Do you think it will help?" she asked as she tried to imagine her Harry's reaction when he read that letter.

"I have no idea. One way to find out."

Lily kissed the underside of his jaw. She knew she needed to go and finish dinner, but couldn't make herself move
from James's side. Dinner would be late. Whatever, they had a good excuse. She focused back on the other Harry
and Hermione, who would be back in the Department of Mysteries by now. "Did you hear what she said to him,
just before they left?" she asked James.

He smirked down at her. "'Where you go, I go.' It sounded like the beginning of wedding vows."

"Most of the things they say to each other sound like wedding vows."

"Yeah. They're going to be fine."

"I know they will."

They finally went to the kitchen to finish making dinner. Lily opted for a simple salad and used her wand to chop
the vegetables while James set the table. "How long will it take them to get together?" James asked from the other
room.

"What do you think?" she called back, whisking the salad dressing in a small bowl.

"A month?"

"No. Longer. They need to cancel their weddings, rebuild their friendships with Ron and Ginny, quit their jobs—"
 "Move," James added, coming into the kitchen. "At least, I hope Harry moves. I was giving him a hard time about
living in that dung heap while we were getting the amulet. I think he's clinging to it because it reminds him of
Sirius, but Sirius hated that place and I know he'd hate the thought of Harry living there."

"Good. I hope he moves, too. So, with all that, my guess is that they'll be together in three months, four at the
most."

Just then, Lily felt the shimmer of the wards, followed by a knock at the door. Her heart started beating rapidly as
she followed James to the foyer. This was it. She placed her hand on the doorknob, but it froze there. James
wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. "I've got you, Evans."

For a moment, they were back at Hogwarts. He was catching her by the waist before she stepped onto a trick stair,
wearing that playful smirk that always made her heart leap. She'd loved him even that early on, then spent the
next several years denying it until she couldn't anymore. The day she'd finally let go of her fears and kissed him
was one of the best of her life, second only to the day Harry was born.

His eyes were filled with a mix of raw emotions: adoration, fear, sorrow, hope. It was the type of look he saved
for her alone. This was going to be so difficult for him. He'd always taken Harry's estrangement personally, and
now he had to deal with it while also mourning the loss of the other Harry.

"I've got you too, Potter," she whispered back.

"I know," he replied, blinking back tears. "That's why this works so well."

Lily grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together, then pressed her lips to his knuckles. He was going to be
fine. They were going to be fine. She forced a smile on her face, twisted the doorknob, and pulled it open.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: The Waltzing Willow (based on Groot) was for you, Aani (AKA, WhisperingAFantasy). We'll see him
one more time in the story.
 Home, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

August 2001

Harry crashed into something solid. He felt around and guessed by the cold, smooth surface under him that he
was lying on the floor at the Department of Mysteries, but he was waiting for his head to stop spinning before
prying his eyes open to confirm. He'd kept his eyes squeezed shut in the portal, eager to avoid the retching from
the last time he'd traveled between dimensions.

"Hermione?" he called. His voice sounded strange.

"Over here," she replied from nearby.

Harry rolled onto his back and raised his hand to his forehead. It was there. His scar. He reached into his robes
and wrapped his palm around the familiar holly wand. He was back in his normal body.

Harry carefully pulled himself to his feet, then straightened his robes, which were heavy and stiff compared to
what he'd spent the last two weeks wearing. Hermione was getting up a few feet away from him. She conjured
two glasses of water and floated one over to him. He nodded in thanks and they gulped the cool water down in
silence, watching each other.

She was eyeing him warily and Harry wondered if she was thinking of what she'd seen in the mist. Based on the
look of fear in her eyes, he guessed yes. Harry vanished their empty glasses, then crossed the distance between
them, pulling her tightly against his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured in her hair. "Thank you for this trip. Thank you for being there, always. Thank you for
saving me—so many times over. Thank you, Hermione."

She slumped into him and he had to tighten his grip on her to keep her upright. Her shoulders shook and he heard
soft sobs, muffled against his chest.

"Don't tell me you actually believed that what you saw in the mist would happen," he said as his ran his fingers
through her hair.

She let out a half-moan / half-laugh. "I guess I was more scared about it coming to fruition than I realized."

Harry pushed her back. There were still tears falling onto her cheeks, but she seemed to be finished with the worst
of the crying. He placed his hands on her face as warm tears ran down his knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere," he
whispered. "We're back in our world, in our normal bodies, and I'm still desperately in love with you."

"You are?" she asked doubtfully.

He nodded.

She responded with a sad smile. Hermione pulled out of his grasp and conjured a handkerchief, then began
dabbing at her eyes. She cast a Reflection Charm to check her appearance and after a short inspection, vanished
the handkerchief and mirror with a wave of her wand.

"It's almost time for dinner," she said, looking down at her watch.

"Yeah." He didn't care about dinner. He didn't even know what day it was. All he cared about was Hermione and
what she was going to do next. When was she going to see Ron? What was she going to say to him? But first,
Harry needed to talk to Ginny. His stomach churned. That was going to suck. But he'd been thinking about it over
the past few days and had finally sorted out what he was going to say.
"It's Thursday, Harry," Hermione said, drawing his attention back to her.

"Okay. Yeah. It is, isn't it?"

"Have you already forgotten what we do on Thursday nights?"

"Oh, shit." Duh. On Thursdays he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had dinner together. "Whose place is it today?" he
asked.

"Yours, so it's our turn to get food. I knew I'd be working late so I told Ron to pick something up, which means
—"

"Pizza," he finished for her. "Okay."

"Yes." A heavy awkwardness settled between them.

"I guess this will be as good a time as any to tell them about the trip."

"Right," she said nervously. "Are you—? Um—"

"No. I'm not going to tell them about my feelings for you. I'm going to discuss that with Ginny, alone. Tonight.
And I—I'm not planning to hold anything back. She's probably going to tell Ron. And honestly, if she doesn't, I
was planning to. I owe him that much."

"Okay," she said, dropping her eyes to the ground. "That—uh—makes sense."

"Yeah."

He reached out and brushed his hand along her arm, stopping when he reached her palm. "It's been one-sided at
this point," he said softly. "They'll be angry with me but you—you don't have to confess to. You can—you can
stay with Ron." His voice cracked and he stopped to take a breath. Fuck, he could barely get the words out. But
he needed to say this. He needed her to know he supported her, no matter what.

"I want you to be happy, Hermione. Okay? And even if you choose to stay with Ron, we're going to remain
friends. Remember the pact?"

She nodded, looking down at their hands. "Friends, above all else."

"That doesn't mean I've given up on you," he added. "I think you're supposed to end up with me. And I plan to
wait for you for as long as you need."

"Five years?" she asked with a teary smile.

"Preferably less." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. After returning her hand, he walked
toward the door while Hermione stayed in place. "Are you coming?"

"I need to take care of some things in here." She gestured around the room. "Can you get yourself out? The
Apparition point is next to the loveseat, through the door closest to the exit."

"Yeah. I can find it."

Harry went back to her and kissed her cheek. She leaned into him. He pulled back and pushed a curl behind her
ear, brushing his fingertips along her cheek. They watched each other for a few moments, while Harry wondered
how long it would be until he could hold her like this again.

Hermione held her hand out and gently placed her fingers against Harry's lips. He kissed them and she smiled
slightly. He thought he understood the gesture. She wanted to kiss him, but this was all she would allow while
they were still engaged. Hopefully, that wouldn't be the case for long.

"I'll see you soon," he said, speaking against her fingertips.

"See you soon," she replied. Harry thought he saw a flash of disappointment cross her face as she dropped her
hand and stepped back. Though it was gone so quickly, he couldn't be entirely sure he hadn't imagined it.

Ron was running late. He was bouncing from one foot to the other as he waited impatiently for the Muggles to
finish his order. Once again, everyone was going to tease him for bringing pizza. But it was quick, cheap, and
delicious. What was the problem with that?

He had hoped to have time to get a salad to go with it, and maybe even a dessert—mostly to ward off glares from
Hermione as she thought to herself how lazy he was—but the meeting he'd had with the informant from Belgium
that afternoon had gone on twice as long as Ron was expecting. So, pizza it was.

When he arrived at Grimmauld Place, though, only Harry was there. Hermione and Ginny seemed to be running
late too. Ron could immediately tell something was off with Harry. He was avoiding Ron's gaze as he took Ron's
outer robe and hung it in the closet, then was oddly quiet as he led them down the dark hall to the kitchen at the
back of the house.

"You okay, Mate?" Ron asked as he set the boxes of pizza on the table, then cast a Warming Charm on them.

"Actually, no," Harry said roughly, which surprised Ron. Harry rarely owned up to his bad moods this quickly. It
was one of the most frustrating things about being his best friend. Ron usually had to work hard to draw things
out of him.

"Blimey. What is it? What happened? Something at work? But you were just writing up case reports today,
weren't you? Something with Ginny? Something with ... what else is there?"

Again, Harry averted his eyes. "It's actually something with Hermione," he said to the pizzas, his voice oddly
devoid of emotion. "We're—er—going to tell you all about it over dinner."

"Hermione?" Ron shook his head in confusion. That was odd. As far as he could tell, Harry and Hermione never
spent time alone. Something had happened between them a few months ago, but Ron had no idea what it was.

Hermione had brushed Ron off when he asked her about it and he knew it wasn't worth asking Harry, who might
not even know. Ron was very familiar with the feeling of being in conflict with Hermione, with no idea what had
gone wrong or how to fix it. Harry must have offended Hermione in some way and she was punishing him for it.
It was too bad, but honestly, Ron was just relieved he wasn't the one caught up in the crossfire this time and didn't
want to stir the cauldron and somehow end up on Hermione's bad side.

Just then, Ginny walked into the kitchen. Her long hair was still damp from a recent shower and she was wearing
a long, sleeveless Quidditch jersey over a pair of leggings. If she could show up to dinner looking as casual as
that, Ron should be allowed to bring pizza.

"Sorry I'm late. Practice went long today. You all know the Wasps have the best Chasers in the league and well,
Turpin got this brilliant idea to drill Agatha for hours, even though we all told her there was no point in wearing
out our best Keeper just before the game. Anyway, that's what I was doing, tossing goal after goal." She stopped
to roll her shoulders, then clenched and unclenched her fists several times, studying her hands the way Hermione
studied arcane texts.

"Damn," she said after several moments. "Remind me to take something for sore muscles tonight, otherwise I'm
going to be stiff for days." She turned her neck side to side. "Maybe Hermione will know of something. Where is
she?"

Before anyone could respond, Ginny's eyes landed on the pizza boxes on the table. She scoffed. "There are other
foods in the world besides pizza, Ron."

He stuck his tongue out at her. "You can choose what we eat next week, when it's your turn."

Ginny went behind the counter to greet Harry. She wrapped her bare arms around him and gave him a small kiss
on the neck. "Hey. How was your day? Good?"
Clearly not, Ron thought to himself. If you stopped rattling on about Quidditch and pizza for a second, you'd see
that Harry looks like he's about to cry. Or yell. It doesn't seem like he's decided which one to go with yet.

"Er, yeah," Harry said lamely.

Ron would have known that was a lie even if Harry hadn't confirmed it for him a few minutes ago. But Ginny
didn't seem to notice. She was barely paying attention to him. Her mind was probably back at practice, or perhaps
at the match she had this weekend.

Ginny did this sometimes, got lost in her head. Ron just hoped that once she was finished running through
Quidditch plays in her mind, she'd focus on her fiancé and give him the attention he clearly needed, but would
never ask for. Either that, or Harry would end up at Ron's flat later, asking if he fancied a trip to the pub.

She and Harry were brilliant when things were going well. They were a good team, hilarious, fun-loving. But
when Harry was in a bad mood, they instinctively separated, like now. Even though they were touching, there was
a palpable distance between them. It was during moments like these when Ron agreed with his mum (terrifying
thought) about Ginny being too young to get married. Despite the fact that his mum was obsessed with Harry and
desperately wanted him in the family, she'd said multiple times now how she wished they would wait a few years
and how there was no reason to rush into a wedding.

Thank Merlin, Ron didn't have to worry about this with him and Hermione. Hermione was a genius at this sort of
thing and if she and Ron were rushing into a wedding, she'd have said something by now.

As if on cue, Hermione appeared in the doorway. "Hi," she said, out of breath. She paused and took in the scene
in the room. Ginny and Harry, standing behind the counter, Ginny with her arm around Harry's waist while he
stood there stiffly. The box of pizzas on the table and then, her eyes landed on Ron. He braced himself for a scowl
and had his excuse ready, but was surprised when she crossed the room and threw her arms around him.

"Oomph," Ron gasped, stumbling slightly as he struggled to keep them upright. He tightened his arms around her
and felt her melt into him. "Uh, Hermione? Are you okay?"

His eyes flashed to Harry, who had been watching them, but he looked away before Ron could catch his gaze.
Ginny watched Ron and Hermione with a look of mild curiosity.

Ron gently pushed Hermione back and was alarmed to see tears in her eyes. "Hermione? What's going on?"

"Why do you look so upset, Hermione?" Ginny asked, crossing the room to get a better look at her
friend. Brilliant, Ron thought, she's finally joined the conversation.

Hermione looked over at Harry, who was watching her intently. She blushed for some reason, then carefully
stepped out of Ron's grasp. "We, uh, have an insane story for you two," she said to Ron and Ginny.

"Who's we?" Ginny asked.

"Her and Harry," Ron snapped. "Pay attention."

Ginny elbowed him in the side but he was expecting it, and blocked her with his arm.

"What sort of story?" Ginny asked Harry.

Harry didn't hear her, or had chosen to ignore her. He was completely focused on Hermione.

"Maybe we should start eating," Hermione announced, moving to the table. She summoned plates and napkins
while Harry fetched glasses of water for everyone.

They sat in their usual spots around the small, circular table Harry had purchased months ago. It was one of the
only updates he'd made to Grimmauld Place. Ron sat across from Harry while Ginny took the spot on his right
and Hermione the spot on his left.
When everyone was sitting with a slice of pizza in front of them, Harry turned to Hermione and said softly, "Do
you want to start?"

"You go," she whispered back. Ron scanned her appearance. He was trying to pick out what was wrong with her,
but couldn't place it. She looked the same, physically, no more tired or stressed than usual, but something was off.
She was twirling her engagement ring around on her finger. Once she realized what she was doing, she stopped
and gripped her knee so tightly, her knuckles went white. Ron frowned and focused back on Harry, whose eyes
were in the same spot, on Hermione's hand.

"We've been gone for two weeks in, er, another dimension," Harry stated, moving his eyes to Ron. "In the
Department of Mysteries."

That was not at all what Ron was expecting. "You...what?!" He looked at Hermione, but she was focused on the
pizza on her plate. "What do you mean you've been gone for two weeks? When? I saw you at the office earlier."

"Hermione's probably the better person to explain that part, but we went to another world where everything was
different and we stayed there for fourteen days. Then, we traveled back in time, to the same point when we
arrived in that world, and came back here. So, it seems to you like no time passed but to us, a lot did. Erm, sort of
like in Third Year, when we used the Time Turner to save Sirius."

Ron looked to Hermione, who confirmed the story with a small nod.

"What sort of world?" Ginny asked, leaning forward in her chair. "Were there ... what do Muggles call them? A-
le-nims?"

"Aliens," Hermione corrected, "and you're thinking of different planets, which isn't the same as different
universes. We were on planet Earth and society was mostly the same with some, um, key differences."

"Oh, like what?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked to Harry, who seamlessly picked up the story. "In this other universe, Neville was the Boy Who
Lived, not me."

"What? Neville?" Ginny asked. "That's crazy."

Harry gave her an odd look, then focused back on Ron. "Yeah. Um, Neville. Because the Prophecy could have
referred to him. Dumbledore told me that once. So, yeah, he was the one whose parents had died and he was the
one who killed Voldemort and my parents—erm—they were alive."

"What?" Ron broke into a grin. "You got to see your parents? That's great!"

"Yeah." Harry gave him a shy smile. "It was pretty great.

Ron turned to Hermione. "Is that the sort of research you do in the Department of Mysteries? Look for other
worlds where our loved ones are still alive? That's brilliant! Why didn't you say so earlier? Can we go to a world
with Fred, next?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "Let's do that!"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "That's not really how it works."

"Then how does it work?" Ron asked.

When she turned to him, her eyes were sad and apologetic. "I was doing research into the fifth dimension and
trying to figure out how to travel through it and I just—I happened upon this world with Harry's parents. I wasn't
looking for it. And then, once I found it, I knew I had to show Harry so he could meet them, you know?"

Ron nodded. "Of course. That makes sense. Though, you could have warned me before going on a two-week
trip."
"That part wasn't planned," Harry cut in. "It was just supposed to be dinner. But after I met them—and learned
they were about to go on a two-week holiday with the other Harry and Hermione—I begged her to let us stay."

"Oh, right," Ginny interrupted. "There would have been another Harry and Hermione. What did they think of you
being there?"

"We took over their bodies," Hermione explained. "So we were impersonating them while their minds floated ...
somewhere else."

"Bloody hell," Ron swore. "And that worked? Your parents didn't know?"

"They eventually figured it out," Hermione said, answering for Harry. "But it took them about a week. I mean,
our disguises were very good." She and Harry shared a small smile, which caused a heat to flame up in Ron's
chest.

"Why can't we go see Fred?" Ron asked, trying to keep his tone even. "You can continue your research, figure out
how to hone in on—"

"I can't, Ron. Okay?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not an Unspeakable anymore. Or—I won't be, after tomorrow."

"What?" Ron asked. "Why? You're quitting?"

"No," she said softly. He could tell she didn't want to say this next part. "I'm going to be fired once they find out I
brought Harry through the portal."

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth. "Why did you bring him, then?"

Ron scowled. He knew exactly why. Because Hermione would do anything for Harry. He looked over at Harry,
who was pointedly avoiding Ron's gaze.

"So, you gave everything up for Harry," Ron said coolly.

Hermione sighed, then looked at him squarely. "You may as well know ... there's more."

Of course there was more. Ron got the sense they'd been building up to this "more" the whole time. Hermione
looked at Harry, who took up the story again. The easy way Harry and Hermione were making their way through
this conversation, seamlessly switching from one person to the other, was making Ron sick. They hadn't been this
close since the war—when they'd finish each other's sentences, track the other's movement around the tent, or
lean into each other, without even realizing it.

"We were engaged in that world," Harry explained. "So—erm—for the first week of the trip, before my parents
found out who we really were, we sort of had to pretend to be a couple."

"What does 'sort of having to pretend to be a couple' look like?" Ron said through clenched teeth.

Harry kept his eyes on Ron as he replied. "I wrapped my arm around her, held her hand, kissed her a few times,
and we—er—shared a bed."

"That must have been so weird for you two," Ginny said, completely unphased by the news that Harry and
Hermione had essentially cheated on Ron and Ginny.

But again, Ginny had never seen Hermione as a threat. She'd told Ron as much after the war, when he'd asked her
if she was bothered by how much time Hermione and Harry had spent alone when they were on the run. But
Ginny hadn't grown up with Harry and Hermione, like Ron had. She hadn't seen the way they had of
communicating without words—something Ginny and Harry had yet to master. Hell, Ron and Hermione didn't
even do that.
The fire in Ron's chest grew hotter as he remembered Harry and Hermione from the Horcrux Hunt. The way they
always fell into step while hiking, the shared glances across the room, how they chattered on and on about
everything and nothing, all at once, never tiring of each other's company.

"Why?" Ron asked, glaring at Hermione first, then Harry. "Why not come clean about who you were from the
start and avoid the whole … charade?"

"I was trying to get to know them," Harry replied, his voice shaking. "I wanted them to be themselves and I
thought they'd be angry if they knew who I really was. And they were, when they first found out. My dad dueled
me and he was really good. I barely managed to overpower him. And then—then we did come clean and we told
them we weren't engaged and I—I started sleeping on the couch."

He gave Hermione a side-long glance. There was something he was leaving out. That twisted image of Harry and
Hermione snogging, the one the locket had shown Ron, flashed through his mind.

The real Harry, the one at the other end of the table, dropped his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose under
his glasses. "I was desperate to know them, Ron," he said hoarsely. "I don't have any memories of them. I just—I
just needed something."

And suddenly, he transformed. He was no longer the more handsome version of himself that was kissing
Hermione, but the depressed man he'd been just after the war. The man curled up in a ball in bed while he shouted
at the top of his lungs, struggling to fight his way out of a nightmare. The godfather who subsisted on nothing but
Dreamless Sleep Potion as he tried to make it through the rigorous Auror Training program and care for his
newborn godson, insistent that Teddy would have a better childhood than he had.

The wizard who cried alone in his room, then tried to hide his puffy eyes once he finally emerged, apologizing
under his breath for making them late to the pub. During that first year after the war, while the girls were still at
Hogwarts, Ron had been bouncing between George's flat and Grimmauld Place, trying to determine which broken
wizard needed him most that night.

Just then, the enormity of what Harry had just been through hit Ron. He'd seen his parents. The people he loved
most in the world, but who he'd never had a chance to know. Ron hadn't missed all the times Harry flipped
through the photo album Hagrid had given him, or the way he perked up at the mere mention of one of them. And
now, he'd met them. He'd traveled with them and then, after just two weeks, been forced to say goodbye.

No wonder he looked like he was bleeding from an invisible wound. Ron's chest clenched at the obvious pain in
Harry's eyes. The witches were watching Ron, waiting for his reaction. Ginny looked curious, though slightly
detached, and Hermione was wearing an expression of equal parts guilt and sorrow. Ron reached over and placed
a hand on her leg. He couldn't be angry with her. This was what he got with Hermione. He'd known that from the
start. She would always do whatever she could to help Harry.

Hell, so would he. If Ron had to give up his job to give Harry two weeks with his parents, he would have done it
in a heartbeat. And he knew Harry would have done the same for him. "Okay, Mate," Ron muttered. "It's not my
favorite thing, but I get it. You did what you had to do."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief but Harry looked even sadder, which hadn't previously seemed possible.

"I understand too, Harry," Ginny chimed in. "I'd pretend to be engaged to Ron, if it meant I got to see Fred again."

Harry laughed humorlessly.

"Was it bad?" Ron asked in a low voice. "Saying goodbye to them?"

Harry gave him a curt nod.

Hermione shifted closer to Harry and Ron saw her pinky finger graze his knee.

"Do you want to hear about them?" Hermione asked the table. "James and Lily? They're really great."
"Yeah, sure," Ron said, watching Harry pull his gaze away from his untouched pizza and focus on Hermione.

"James is—well—sort of like Sirius in the way he's always joking and looking for a laugh but he's more…"

"Serious," Harry provided with a small smile, the first one he'd worn all night.

"Yes. I think your mum mellowed him out. And he's completely devoted to her. He's also really smart and brave
and we saw him turn into a stag several times and it was really impressive."

"I had to fight that stag," Harry reminded her.

Hermione let out a small laugh. "That's right."

"That's cool," Ron said, eager to break into the conversation. "He sounds really great."

"Yeah," Harry said.

"And Lily," Hermione continued, "I don't even know where to start. She's beautiful, more beautiful than the
photos, kind, intuitive, surprisingly cunning, brilliant, caring, sort of reserved … blunt." Hermione sighed and
dabbed at her lower lashes with her fingertips. "She was hard to say goodbye to. They both were."

A sad silence settled over the group. Ginny bit her lip as her brows knit together, then placed a hand on Harry's
arm. "Why don't we talk about something lighter?"

Hermione glared at her across the table. Ron silently hoped Ginny wasn't about to mention something about
Quidditch, since he was pretty sure that would lead to Hermione hexing her and he didn't want to have to mediate
a fight between his fiancée and his sister. Luckily, Ginny wasn't that tactless. She ignored Hermione and turned to
Harry. "What type of trip did you all go on? Can you tell us what you saw?"

"Oh, er, yeah. We saw the Seven Wonders of the Magical World."

"Really?" Ginny said. "I don't think I've heard of those."

Harry paused to take a large gulp of his water.

"I can start," Hermione said as Harry set his empty glass on the table.

"Yeah, go ahead," Harry said gratefully.

Ron saw Harry reach his little finger out and graze it against Hermione's, which was still touching the edge of his
knee. She nodded her head almost imperceptibly, then pulled her hand back onto the center of her lap and started
explaining a forest in France.

Ron tried to ignore the gesture. He tried not to care. He tried to channel Ginny's nonchalance. He reminded
himself that Hermione was comforting Harry the best way she knew how. Harry was hurting and he needed
support and she knew that better than anyone. She'd been there when he'd had to say goodbye to his parents.
She'd been there, pretending to be engaged to him. Kissing him, sleeping next to him.

Ron took a deep breath. No, it wasn't like that. It wasn't. Then again, there was something they were holding
back. He'd been an Auror long enough to be able to pick up on this sort of thing. The more Ron thought about it,
the less sure he was about what was going on between Harry and Hermione. But there was one thing he was
certain of. The rift between them was over.

Later that night, Ginny was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, braiding her hair as she thought of
Harry and Hermione's strange trip. She was glad she'd turned the conversation to the sights they'd seen, rather
than all that depressing talk about his parents. That had been smart. She could see it taking a dark turn and Harry
looked like he was about to burst into tears. Luckily Ginny had been there to save him. If it was up to Hermione,
he'd have been sobbing over his pizza.

Hearing about the Wonders was really cool. Maybe she could convince Harry to take her back to a few of them.
The fairy colony seemed neat, and relatively easy to get to, and the dragons were brilliant, but sounded expensive
—since you needed to book time with a private guide. Harry could afford it, though.

The lights sounded nice enough, but neither Harry nor Hermione could describe the song part of it well. Ginny
would pass on Pacifica, as she'd never been a big fan of the ocean, and she'd pass on the waterfall too, since it was
clear both Harry and Hermione hated that place. But the Tear in the Veil ... a chance to see Fred again. Her heart
thumped. She'd need to think about that.

"Hey."
She jumped and turned to find Harry in the doorway. "Hey." She finished off her braid, then lifted her wand and
applied a Mouth Cleaning Spell. When the spell was finished and she'd rinsed her mouth out, she turned to face
him. He was leaning in the doorframe, staring distantly at the tiles in the shower.

Ginny took a deep breath and placed a tentative hand on his arm. She wasn't good at this, but knew it was part of
being with Harry Potter. Dealing with his dark moods and helping him find his way back to his normal, happy
self.

"I'm really sorry you had to go through all that."

His eyes snapped to hers. They were swimming with so many emotions, she couldn't begin to guess all the
feelings there. "It was good," he said insistently. "I'm glad I went. It's just going to take me a little bit to recover.
It's like—like I lost them all over again."

"Right, of course," Ginny nodded. "I'm happy for the good parts and—uh—sorry about the end, and how sad you
are right now."

Harry just hummed. He cocked his head toward the room and went to sit on the edge of the bed. "Can we talk? I
want to tell you more about the trip."

"Oh. Now?" She followed him into the room and stopped so she was standing in front of him.

"Yes."

"Okay. We just talked for hours and I thought that the details would just come out over time. You seem
knackered, I'm knackered—" She paused to clench and unclench her fist, which was still sore. Damn, she'd
forgotten to ask Hermione which Potion she should take tonight. "And I have an early practice."

Harry's gaze hardened. "I just went through a significant experience, perhaps one of the most important ones of
my life, and I want to talk to my fiancée about it. Can you maybe put Quidditch to the side for once? You can take
a Stamina Potion tomorrow."

Ginny's face twisted. "You know I can't take those at practice. I could crash while on my broom."

He let out a long sigh and dropped his face in his hands. "Yeah, okay. Whatever."

Ginny could see him shutting down. She wondered if he was going to sleep in one of the spare bedrooms tonight
and then, she wondered if she cared. The thought jolted her into action. Of course she cared. This wizard was
supposed to be her husband soon and he'd just implied she was a bad fiancée. She couldn't have that. She needed
to connect with him.

"Sorry, Harry," she said, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "I'm so worried about this upcoming match—you
know that but I—I want to talk to you—I do. And I'm not trying to be a dreadful fiancée. I think I was actually
pretty good tonight. I forgave you immediately for pretending to be with Hermione, didn't I? Not like Ron. I think
you'll be hearing about this from him for a while."

He looked up at her and she tried to give him a small smile, but it just seemed to irritate him. She linked her arm
with his. "Come on. Tell me what you wanted to say."

He focused on the shabby rug on the ground. When he didn't say anything after several moments, Ginny squeezed
his arm. "What is it, Harry? You're obviously upset and you said you wanted to talk. So talk."

"You don't want to talk to me."

"Is that why I'm sitting here, literally begging you to talk?" she snapped.

"You're doing that because you think it's what you're supposed to be doing," he snapped back. "This entire
relationship has just been you and I doing what we think we're supposed to, not what we want."
I think this is why it is so important to become more sensible person at the same
time understanding that spending a moment about everyday how you can increase
Ginny flinched and let go of him. She felt like she'd been hit with a Stinging Jinx. "Where is this coming from,
the value
Harry? in someone
I thought we were talkingelse's lifetrip."
about your how you can make them happy is also important
and every moment what is better for overall welding that means what makes
Harry jumped up and began pacing the floor in front of her, raking his hands through his hair. "Sorry, Gin. I
everyone happy
shouldn't have what
snapped. Fuck. Imeans everyone
had this whole, better
long, drawn-out feel better
explanation is important
planned but—but you don't want
that. You just want me to get to the point, don't you?"

He stopped pacing and fixed her with an intense stare. "Um, sure," Ginny said, hoping it was the right thing, since
she didn't want this to turn into a big row. She was tired and she wanted to sleep.

"Fine," he said, going to join her on the bed again. "I can't marry you."

Ginny waited for him to continue, to add something like, "next summer" or "I think we should wait a little
longer," but he didn't say anything like that. Just, "I can't marry you, full stop."

"I love you," he continued. "I do love you but—but not the way I should. And you—you don't love me back. Not
really. I mean, how could you? We don't even know each other."

A fire flared inside of Ginny. She began to see it slipping away, the wedding, the dress she'd picked out with her
mum, the full page spread in the Daily Prophet, the new signature she'd been practicing, Ginevra Molly Potter.

"Don't tell me how I feel about you. That's for me to decide, not you!" she shouted.

"I'm just going with the facts," he replied evenly. "You don't like when I have nightmares, or flashbacks, or panic
attacks. You prefer if I keep my dark past out of this relationship—even though it's a huge part of me. You don't
know anything about my time with the Dursleys. Never once did you care to ask.

"We never talk about anything real, like the sort of life we want in the future, or our values, or—or—our dreams.
We just talk about Quidditch and the news and—and gossip. And tonight—you didn't want to talk about my
parents. You wanted to talk about the Wonders, which was the least important part of the trip."

"Where is all this coming from? You went on this trip and suddenly decided you don't want to be with me?
Whatever happened, we can fix it. It doesn't just have to be over."

Harry took a deep breath. "We can't fix it, Ginny."

Ginny seethed. She hated how he was managing to remain so calm as he tore the life she'd created to shreds. "You
owe me more of an explanation. What happened? Why this sudden revelation?"

Harry looked back at the rug. When he spoke, his voice was flat, which just angered Ginny further. "I saw what
my parents were like. I saw what it was like to be in a relationship with mutual understanding and respect. I saw
what it was like to break down and have someone tell you that it's okay. That you can be strong, but also a
fucking mess, and that you didn't have to hide from your emotions."

Ginny shook her head. "You saw all that in two weeks? Your parents were ... breaking down and ... and you saw?"

Harry took his glasses off and placed them on the bed, then covered his face with his palms. "Some of that I saw
with my parents and the other—" He sighed. "The other part was with Hermione."

The air in the room stilled. Harry turned to look at her and said in a barely perceptible whisper. "I fell in love with
Hermione."

"I don't—I don't understand. Our Hermione? Or, no, the other one. You're talking about the other Hermione."

"Yes, our Hermione. The other Hermione wasn't there." There was an edge to his tone. Apparently the mention of
Hermione had snapped him out of his indifference.

Ginny was finally starting to piece together the truth. All that crap about them having a bad relationship was just
an excuse. This was the real reason he didn't want to be with her. He'd fallen for Hermione. Hermione
Granger! Ginny had suspected Hermione might like Harry as far back as Hogwarts, but he'd never shown any
interest. And now—what had Hermione done? Brainwashed him? Used a Love Potion?

"Let me get this straight. You went on a trip with your parents, traveled all over the world, pretended to be
engaged to Hermione, then decided you actually wanted to be engaged to her and—what? Forgot about me? Or
just started inventing reasons why we're bad together to justify whatever you did with Hermione on the trip. Were
you two together? When you said you shared a bed I assumed—"

"Of course we didn't do anything. We would never do that to you and Ron."

Ginny's stomach lurched. The way he'd said that "we" … it was so inclusive, so full of feeling. She was sure he'd
never referred to the two of them like that.

"This isn't about Hermione, Gin," he continued, his voice calm again. He put his glasses back on and stood in
front of her. "Yes, I realized I love her, but I had already decided we needed to end it before that realization. I
think this is best for both of us. You—you don't really want me. You want this?" He gestured to his body. "I'm a
fucking mess and we both know it and I can promise you, it's not something I just going to grow out of one day.
I'm going to be this way—always struggling with the losses from my past, oscillating between good and bad
moods, trying to find out what the point of everything is—for the rest of my life. Do you really want that?"

Ginny stood and glared at him as he gave her a questioning look, waiting for her verdict. She responded by
slapping him hard across the face. He barely flinched and she raised her hand to do it again, but this time he
stepped back, out of her reach. "Ginny—"

"Don't try to tell me what I do and don't want," she said through clenched teeth. "You're just trying to make
yourself feel better for cheating on me and we both know it!"

Harry let his eyes fall closed. He inhaled and exhaled softly before speaking again in a resigned tone. "You
clearly don't want to talk anymore. Are we done?"

"Yeah. We're done, Harry." Ginny had already Summoned a bag from the closet and was haphazardly tossing
clothes inside as her mind raced through the other things she'd need to grab. Some toiletries, her broom, a pile or
two of money, her favorite mug.

"I can leave," he said softly. His eyes were wet, which just irritated her further. "You live here too and—"

"You must be kidding," she said cruelly, snapping her bag shut and tossing it over her shoulder. "I've been
desperate to escape this dark house since the moment you insisted I move in. You're doing me a favor here."

She went to the bathroom and shoved a few more things into her bag before returning to the room. Harry was
standing in the same spot. "You know what?" she continued. "It's not just the darkness in this house I'm desperate
to escape. It's all of it—that cloud hanging over you. At least now, it won't threaten to suffocate me too. You are a
mess and you and Hermione—you two deserve each other."

She marched past him to the door. When she had her hand on the knob, he said gently, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I wasn't
trying to hurt you." She heard the unspoken words behind the sentence, "Despite the fact that you're clearly trying
to hurt me." Something his precious Hermione would never do.

"Well, you did," she bit back. "I guess the wonderful Harry Potter doesn't win at everything."

The pain that flashed in his eyes caused her heart to stutter. She almost apologized. Almost walked back into the
room to give him a final, parting hug. But she was too angry. He'd messed everything up. He'd chosen another
witch over her and she didn't think she'd ever be able to forgive him. She shot him a final glare before turning to
the hall, slamming the door behind her.

A little while later, Harry went downstairs to clean up after dinner. He was trying to keep the emotions flowing
through him at bay, reasoning that tomorrow, he'd have plenty of time to address them. But he needed to keep
everything in check until then. He didn't want to fall apart in front of Robards while he was quitting his job.
 But the thought of being alone in the house, with nothing to do, made him anxious. He thought of Ginny—the
rage in her eyes, which he knew she was just using to mask the pain. He could still feel the sting of her slap on his
cheek and knew it was nothing compared to what he deserved. And Ron—he would have to tell him about
Hermione, and soon. Ideally, before Ginny got to him. But what was he going to say? How did you start a
conversation like that?

Harry realized he'd been standing motionless in the center of the kitchen for several moments. His eyes drifted to
the spot at the table where Hermione had been. He wished he could call her. He needed her here. He'd spent so
much time with her over the past few weeks and then—to have her ripped away so suddenly—it was disorienting.
He sighed and went back upstairs. He should try to sleep.

As he washed up for bed, he gave himself a pep talk. He could get through tomorrow. It would be bad, but not the
worst thing he'd been through. Then, on Saturday, he'd see Teddy. Maybe he'd bring him to a toy store. Seeing
Teddy's face light up with joy would turn Harry's mood around. Just the thought of it made Harry feel lighter.
Yeah. A new toy, and maybe ice cream, too. He could pick some up at the store tomorrow.

Harry had changed into his pajamas and was about to climb into bed when he felt a shimmer of the wards,
followed by a knock on the door. Hermione. She'd come. She knew he needed her. Knew he'd be unbearably
lonely, and had come to support him, like she always did. He ran down the stairs and threw open the door. It
wasn't Hermione. It was Ron.

"Fuck you!" he shouted, then punched Harry square in the jaw. Harry stumbled back as his vision went
temporarily black. He barely managed to keep from falling over. As he was pulling himself upright, he heard the
crack of Disapparition. His vision cleared to reveal an empty doorstep.

He sighed and closed the door as tears stung his eyes. So much for talking to Ron before Ginny did. Or ... had
Hermione told him? Maybe they'd broken up? Harry couldn't find reassurance in the thought. All he could see
was that look on Ron's face before he'd punched Harry, his face red and twisted with a mixture of rage and
disgust.

He went to the Potion Cupboard upstairs and started rummaging through the shelves, his hands shaking as he
pushed the bottles around. No Dreamless Sleep Potion. Fucking fantastic. There was some dittany, though. He
rubbed it on the side of his face, over the spot where Ginny and Ron had both hit him, then plodded upstairs to his
bedroom.

He returned to his bed and climbed under the covers, though he knew it was futile. He wasn't going to be able to
sleep. As he lay there, struggling to ward off the bad thoughts, he waited—in vain—for relief to come. For his
mind to let him drift off to sleep, for Hermione to appear in the doorway, climb into the bed with him, and wrap
her arms around him. For him to wake from this nightmare and find he was back in the tent in the other world,
with his mum making tea for everyone in the kitchen. He waited and waited for some sort of solace—anything—
but none came.

Harry thought of his parents and gripped onto the memories, even though they hurt like hell, ripping through him
like a Cruciatus Curse. They were out there, somewhere, and he tried to be reassured by the thought. They'd be
sleeping, getting ready to start their trip tomorrow. Tears streamed down his face, soaking his pillow. Harry pulled
his knees up to his chest and bent his head down. It was a memory of his dad that finally calmed him. Harry
replayed the words until he eventually lost consciousness.

"I'll be thinking about you all the time. Just remember that when things get hard. I'll be here, Harry. Rooting for
you."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: We'll circle back to Ron and learn what that punch was all about in the next chapter. Hang in there,
Harry! Relief is coming!
 Home, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

August 2001

Hermione and Ron decided to walk back to Hermione's flat from Harry's house. It was a nice night and Hermione
said she wanted some air. Since she lived over two miles from Grimmauld Place, they never walked the whole
way. Instead, they Apparated from Harry's doorstep to a dark alley near one of Hermione's favorite cafés. From
there, it was only a mile back to her flat. Hermione shrunk their robes and stuffed them in her purse, then linked
her arm with Ron's as they walked.

She was quiet, which wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. She disappeared into her head sometimes, especially
when she was mulling something over. But now, Ron really needed her to work through whatever she was
working through out loud. With him. Her fiancé. Ron had had to remind himself several times tonight that he was
her fiancé, despite the fact that she'd spent the last few weeks pretending otherwise.

He hated it. Hated this resurgence of insecurities he'd thought were in his past. Hated that way he'd always
compared himself to Harry. He'd got past that after the war, for the most part. After Harry had emerged from the
forest in Hagrid's arms, looking dead. After he'd dueled Voldemort and won. After he'd spent the next year finally
having to face the losses. Ron didn't want to be Harry Potter in any of those moments. But now, the jealousy had
come back suddenly and forcefully, hitting Ron like a tidal wave.

He turned to look at Hermione and could tell her mind was racing. "Um—are you—?" He'd started talking
without the end in mind. It was a habit of his that annoyed Hermione, but he couldn't help it. He was nervous as
hell, though not entirely sure why.

She turned her head to look at him. "What?"

"Are you worried about your job? I mean, uh, what you're going to do next?"

"Oh, a little."

"Yeah. Makes sense. You loved that job, didn't you?"

"Yes," she said sadly, focusing ahead again. "I did."

They were quiet for a few more moments. "Have you thought about what you want to do?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Kind of. What do you think?"

"Oh…uh…" His brow furrowed as he considered her question. "Maybe something with books? Like… editing
or… curating things for a bookstore? Is that a job?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It is. But … what should I look for in a job?" She turned to face him again, her eyes
intense. "What—what do you think?"

He could tell his answer was important to her, so considered for several moments before saying, "You're brilliant,
yeah? I think you should get a job where you can use that giant brain of yours and everything you studied in
school. So—like—being an Unspeakable was sort of perfect since they research all sorts of things. I reckon you
should look for something else like that."

"Yeah," she sighed.

Ron frowned. She'd disappeared back into her mind and, once again, hadn't taken him with her. He wanted so
badly to know what she was thinking. He'd encountered uncooperative witnesses who gave more away than she
did.

He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, but wasn't sure where to start. He wanted to know more about her job.
Had she known from the beginning that she'd lose her job, or had she realized it later on, when it was too late to
do anything about it? He wanted to know more about Neville and how he'd managed to win the war. He wanted to
know if she knew anything about the other Ron in that world. Was he still friends with the engaged Harry and
Hermione? Had the other Ron and the other Hermione dated?

But above all else, he wanted to know what had happened between her and Harry. How often had Harry touched
her? A few times a day, to appease his parents, or were they traipsing across the bloody globe hand in hand? He
said he'd kissed her a few times. How many, exactly? And where? On the cheek? On the lips? Had they snogged?

And the bed… Had they slept on either end with a large space between them or had Hermione curled up into
Harry that way she liked to do with Ron, especially on the nights she had a nightmare. Had she had any
nightmares on the trip? Had Harry? Had they turned to each other for comfort?

Ron couldn't decide how to formulate these concerns into a question without coming across as a jealous prick
who didn't trust his fiancée, but he had to know. Without the details, he was picturing the worst: Hermione tucked
under Harry's arm as they watched dragons fly through the sky, Hermione nuzzling her face into Harry's neck as
the emotions from the Tear in the Veil overwhelmed her, their bodies pressed against each other as they shared a
broom, the two of them waking up in a tangle of limbs, Hermione burying her hands in Harry's hair as they
snogged.

"How many times did you kiss him?" he asked abruptly, while Hermione asked at the same time, in a more
reasonable tone, "How was your meeting with the informant?"

Ron stopped in the middle of the pavement. "Oh, uh, you remembered that?" Shit. She was being sweet and he
was being a jealous idiot. A warm blush crept up Ron's neck. "It was good. Thanks. And sorry about—it's not that
I don't trust—my mind just—"

"Three," she said softly, her eyes wide and pleading.

A Muggle man around their age shoved passed them, nearly knocking Ron over. Ron took Hermione's elbow and
moved them to the edge of the pavement, against a dark brick building. "Three?"

Hermione bit her lip as she leaned against the side of the building. "Quick pecks on the cheek or the side of a
mouth, I lost count of those but they weren't, um, excessive." She dropped his gaze and focused down on their
feet. Ron could feel her shaking in his grasp. "But kisses, real kisses, there were three."

Three. Ron wasn't sure if this was a lot or a little. Frankly, anything more than zero was too much. They shouldn't
have fucking kissed! They should have made up an excuse—maybe pretended to be in a row. Hermione was
brilliant. She could have come up with something. If she wanted to, a voice said in the back of his mind.

He clenched his fists at his sides.

Hermione's shoulders twitched and Ron saw a few tears splash onto the ground. His heart shattered. He squeezed
his fists harder. So hard, he thought his hands would be sore in the morning.

"You have more to tell me, don't you?" It was a testament to how much he loved her that his tone came out gentle,
since he could feel the rage bubbling up inside.

She nodded, then slowly tilted her head back up. Her lovely brown eyes were lined with tears. It was cruel, how
beautiful she looked. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun, which was how she usually wore it for work, but
several curls had escaped and were framing her face. Her lips were full and darker than usual, since she'd been
biting them nervously all night, and her eyes were wide and shining in the light from the streetlamps.

For the first moment since they'd become engaged, Ron got the feeling that she wasn't his. An overwhelming
sense of longing gripped him and he had to work harder than normal to push air in and out of his lungs. He
reached out and grazed his fingertips along her cheek. When she didn't flinch, the tightness in his chest lifted
slightly. It wasn't over. He was still allowed to touch her. She was still his. For now, that dark voice in his mind
added.

They were silent the rest of the way to Hermione's flat. Once inside, Hermione took their robes out of her bag and
returned them to their normal sizes before hanging them in the hall closet. She worked slowly, trying to put off
the inevitable for as long as possible.

It was time to end things with Ron. She hadn't known back in the other world what she was going to do. She
knew she loved Harry and Ron and had resolved to wait and see how she felt when she saw Ron again. And then,
exactly two seconds after she hugged him, she knew. She was in the wrong arms. She'd clung to him tighter,
trying to pull out the thing that was missing in their embrace, but it wasn't there. And honestly, she hadn't been
surprised.

And now, she had to tell him. Ron was upset at the thought of her and Harry kissing, which was nothing
compared to the rest of it. How was she supposed to explain that it wasn't the colliding of lips and skin Ron
should be concerned about, but the touching of souls?

"I know soulmates exist, because you're mine."

She was overcome with a wave of sorrow and felt tears well behind her eyes. But she couldn't lose it right now.
This was a delicate situation and she needed to proceed with caution. Why hadn't she let herself consider this
possibility before now? She could have prepared something.

"Hermione?" Ron was standing in the hall, eyeing her warily.

She forced a weak smile onto her face and motioned toward the couch as her mind raced. She couldn't let Ron
blame Harry. He would, of course, but he'd be wrong. Because it was about Harry, but it wasn't. Yes, Harry was
better for her and yes, she loved him more than she loved Ron, but the main problem was that there were gaps in
her relationship with Ron—large ones. And the fact that Harry could fill them was irrelevant, to an extent. She
needed Ron to see that. Otherwise, he'd never forgive Harry and then Harry, well, he'd never forgive her.

Hermione sat on the couch while Ron sat on the coffee table opposite her, framing her legs with his longer ones
before gently placing his hands on her knees.

"What do you want to tell me?" he asked. He employed the indifference he'd learned to tap into during Auror
training to keep from completely panicking as she blinked quickly to hold back tears.

She placed her hands on top of his and asked softly, "What do you love about me?"

"What? You think I don't love you?"

"I know you love me. I just want to know why."

Ron let out a large exhale. He had a feeling that no matter what he said, it wasn't going to make a difference, but
he tried anyway. "You're brilliant, obviously. Beautiful, impressive as hell—scary, more like." He gave her a small
smile and squeezed her knee. "What do you love about me?"

She returned his smile, but it was so sad, it looked more like a grimace. "I love how loyal you are. And brave.
Funny and caring. But—"

"Never a good word, especially not in this context," he quipped.

Her grimace deepened. "I think we're missing the little things."

"What?"

She let out a long sigh. "I love you. I love who you are—your character—but not how you look when you sleep.
It's not that I dislike how you look in your sleep I've just … never noticed. And not the way your voice ticks up
when you're nervous or all the different colors your eyes become, and what they mean. Those aren't things I've
 ever stopped to consider and I think—I think it may be the same for you. I think we love each other, generally, but
are missing all the details."

"What are you saying?"

She stayed quiet and resumed biting her lip.

"Tell me," he pressed.

this is important because you have to understand that partnership is
possible "In the other world, I saw another way it could have gone. I've thought, this whole time, that this was the only
if two people are sensible however only when you feel
way and I—I was wrong."
absolutely right that you have fallen in love with somebody only then
"You're talking about Harry? The other way … that's you marrying Harry, right? He's the one who looks a certain
choose to be with that person because when all the amazing qualities
way when he sleeps and has different colored eyes?"
of partnership are full field that already means you are in love so a
romanticShe love
when
leaned forward and clutched his hands. "Forget about Harry. Just consider us. I'm saying—I'm saying that
is innot
I was that present
other world, with a the
and I saw steel
othermaintenance respectful
Hermione's life I—I wanted something else."
partnership something which I will only do if I have no other options
"Some-one else," he corrected as that fire blazed in his chest again.
and I have found nobody which I will not because I will of course find
somebody soway.
"Either no Youproblem learn
deserve better than to
that.improve
You deserve yourself
someone whoandwants your
you—without any doubts."
connection"It's normal to doubt. I have doubts, too."

"I don't think it is. James and Lily, they never doubted. As soon as they decided to be together, that was it—they
both knew it was right. We haven't been like that. We've been nervous from the start."

Ron ripped his hands out from under hers and shifted away, so he was no longer sitting directly across from her.
"So, what? You go on this trip and now you're done and you're trying to tell me it has nothing to do with Harry?
Don't lie, Hermione. This is about Harry. It's always about Harry for you, isn't it?!"

"Maybe it is about Harry. Maybe it always has been. Tell me, Ron, why did you want me? Was it because of me?
Or was it because you thought I was Harry's? Because the other Ron—he didn't want Hermione. All three of them
were still friends but in that world, where Harry was just a normal kid, not the Chosen One, Ron never showed an
interest in Hermione."

"I don't know that Ron!" he shouted back at her. "Are you seriously holding me accountable for his actions?
That's mental!"

Hermione set her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Stop talking in circles and tell me straight, Hermione. You love Harry! You found this alternate world and what
did you do? Broke every rule in your department to bring Harry! Risked a job you love for him! You didn't even
come tell me first! And then you got roped into staying for two weeks longer than you wanted, because we all
know how easy it is to convince you to do something you don't want to.

"Then, you had to pretend to be engaged to Harry. What a big imposition. You had to pretend to be a couple, there
was no way around it, and now you're hugging, snogging, who knows what else? Then, you have the nerve to
come back and try to convince me there are problems in our relationship?! How thick do you think I am?!"

"I'm sorry, Ron. I—"

"Oh great, you're sorry. That makes everything better," he snapped.

She just dropped her head into her hands.

Ron stood and started pacing the room. She wasn't denying it. He was waiting for her to say something—anything
to fix this, but she was just crying into her hands.

"Blimey, Hermione! Fuck! So, that's what happened? You cheated? That's why you're crying?"
She stayed quiet. This was worse than all the interrogations he'd been a part of combined. He wanted to shake her,
force Veritaserum down her throat—anything to get her to tell him what she was thinking.

"It was more than three kisses," he pressed. "You cheated. You said as much. You fucking forgot about me and
Ginny and—and—and what? Did you shag him? Is that the big thing you don't want to tell me?"

"No," she said, finally dropping her hands from her face. "Of course not."

"Then what is it?! What aren't you telling me?"

"Harry fell in love with me!" she shouted back at him, getting to her feet. "He didn't mean to, it just—happened."

"What?" Relief coursed through Ron. They hadn't shagged? Harry had simply realized he loved her? And she
hadn't said she loved him back. That was something, wasn't it?

"Somewhere along the way he realized he didn't want to be with Ginny anymore. He said he wanted me and—"

He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. "You didn't shag?"

"No."

Ron shook his head as his mind caught up with his feelings. She was in the process of breaking up with him.
She'd been trying to convince him their relationship was bad. Couple that, with this information about Harry...

"So, he spent the whole trip telling you how much he loved you and then … what? You made a plan to break up
with me and Ginny once you were back? Why didn't you just do it over dinner? More efficient that way."

"Ron, it wasn't like that." She grabbed the sides of his arms. "Listen, okay?"

Ron scoffed. She was finally ready to talk, but he couldn't hear it. He was shaking with barely suppressed rage as
he thought of Harry telling Hermione that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her, that she should leave Ron
for him.

"I don't want the details," he seethed. "Just—what is this? Is it over? Are you choosing him?"

"It's not like that, Ron."

"Just answer me!" He tore out of her grasp. "Do you want to be with him or me?!"

"You and I aren't right for each other! We're always at odds. You're always explaining your side of things and I'm
explaining my side and we fight so hard to find a compromise and it's hard. It's harder than it should be. You have
to see that. We both deserve better."

"Like Harry," he grumbled.

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "You deserve someone who understands you and I deserve someone
who understands me and we're not those people to each other."

"But Harry is that person."

"This isn't about Harry!"

"Then tell me you don't love him back! Tell me you're not going to run into his arms once you leave me!"

"This is about us. Can you stop shouting about Harry for two seconds and listen to me?!"

Ron glared at her for several seconds, breathing heavily, then turned and marched to the hall. He threw the closet
door open and ripped his robes off the hanger. He didn't bother trying to put them on. He was too angry for that
level of coordination.
Hermione came to stand in front of him, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm done," he said roughly. "This is over, right? Nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"Would you … if there was?" she whispered.

Just then, the tears Ron had been holding back began to fall, heavily, stinging his flushed face on the way down.
"Don't," he said. The word came sounding like a strangled wail. "Don't do that. This wasn't fucking broken! We
were fine. You broke this—not me."

Hermione reached for him but he backed away, out of her grasp.

"Ron, wait—"

He disapparated before she could get another word out.

It took Ron a long time to wake up the following morning, which was odd, as he usually didn't have problems
getting up in the mornings. Especially when there was the smell of food in the air, like now. As his brain moved
at a snail's pace to make sense of his surroundings, he groaned and pulled himself out of a bed that wasn't his.

That's when he noticed he was wearing real clothes, not the pajama bottoms he usually slept in. His eyes flashed
to the bedside table where there was a half-full glass of water, but no wand.

He frantically patted himself and searched the bed, where he found it, tangled in the sheets. As his hand gripped
the well-worn handle, the events of the night before finally came back to him. He groaned again, much louder this
time, and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Hermione had dumped him. For Harry. His stomach lurched and he grabbed the water from the table and downed
the rest of the glass. His body was struggling with which emotion to feel. He had tears in his eyes from the
sadness, was clenching his fists in anger, but also felt a warm blush on the back of his neck from shame. Fuck.

He plopped backward and stared up at the ceiling, which belonged to the spare bedroom of George's flat, he'd
realized. He'd come straight here after punching Harry last night, not wanting to go to his own flat to avoid his
roommate, who was a tosser. Actually, he wasn't. He was a new Auror in the department who was obsessed with
Harry and Ron hadn't wanted to see anyone else last night who preferred Harry to him.

She chose Harry.

Warm tears rushed down his face, landing on the mess of sheets under his head. Hermione, the first witch he'd
ever really loved, the only witch he'd ever loved. His best friend. Brilliant, beautiful, caring, bold, powerful
Hermione. Who had always been a league above him—he'd known that—but he thought he was good for her. He
thought he helped calm her down and enjoy the fun things in life. But Harry could do that, too. That … and more.

"We both deserve better."

She meant she deserved better. And she'd found it. In his bloody best mate. His best mate who was engaged to
his sister!

"Fuck!" he shouted, driving his fists into his eye sockets. "Fuck!"

"We typically go with a simple 'Good Morning' around here," a cheery voice said from the doorway.

"Good morning, Angelina," Ron said bitterly, keeping his face hidden behind his hands.

"I made breakfast."

"No thanks," he groaned.

"When have you ever refused food?"

Ron moved his hand away and looked at her sardonically. "I'm sure George told you."

"That you and Hermione broke up? Yeah. But still, you need food. And don't you need to go to work?"

"Shit." Ron checked his watch. Oh, good, he had another hour before he had to be at work. At the desk he shared
with Harry. "Fucking perfect."

"Your language is awful," Angelina said, smiling sadly as she watched Ron pull himself out of the bed. "We're
working on a product for that. A candy that makes it impossible for you to swear for a few hours after you eat it.
You end up saying things like, 'Oh, fudge' and 'gee-willy' instead."

"That's actually pretty funny."

She turned toward the hall and led the way to the kitchen. "Yeah. We made it as a joke product for students, but it
turns out there's another market for it, with adults who want to stop swearing around young children." She raised
a knowing eyebrow at Ron.

"She stopped saying it," he grumbled, taking a seat at the counter.

Angelina smirked as she pushed a plate of food in front of him. "That's where George is now," she explained,
cocking her head to the closed door on her right that held her and George's lab. "We still need to work out a few
kinks. There's this strange aftertaste that's reminiscent of a skunk."

As if on cue, there was a cry of "Ouch!" from the lab.

"You okay, babe?" Angelina called.

"Yeah," he called back. "Is Ron up?"

"Yep. Looking cheery." She winked at Ron, who stuck his tongue out at her.

"I'm sure. Be right there—I just need to contain this hellebore."

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sometimes, he wondered if George used the 39 Most Deadly Substances list
as a guide for things to try and work into his products simply for the challenge, and not for the magical properties
they provided.

Angelina took a seat next to Ron at the counter and began sipping from an overlarge mug of coffee. She leaned
into him slightly. "I'm sorry."

Ron just grunted and began shoveling food into his mouth, which usually made him feel better. This time, it
didn't, but he cleaned his plate anyway. George emerged from the lab as Ron was finishing off his last piece of
bacon.

He headed straight to Ron and began rubbing some sort of salve on the back of his hand. "Oi! What is that?" Ron
cried, trying to pull his hand away as a cold, tingling feeling spread from the spot George had touched. George
was gripping him tightly and it hurt to try to fight him. It was the hand he'd hit Harry with and it was bruised and
swollen.

"Shut up," George murmured, not releasing Ron's hand until he'd rubbed all the gold paste in.

The relief was instantaneous. "Oh, uh, that's nice. Thanks," Ron grumbled, opening and closing his now
completely-healed hand.

"How are you?" George asked, looking uncharacteristically serious.

Ron just responded with a curt nod. He'd spent a solid hour crying into his brother's shoulder the night before, but
they didn't need to talk about that. It's not like Ron hadn't done the same for George countless times in those
months following Fred's death.
George gripped his shoulder tightly. "We'll go to the pub tonight, as soon as you're finished with work. I'll send
Lee an owl. Do you—" He let his voice trail off.

Ron guessed George had been about to ask Ron if he wanted to invite anyone, then had remembered that Ron
really only had one close friend, and that was Harry. Who had betrayed him. Who had stolen his fucking fiancée.
Ron looked down at the counter as he blinked hard to fight back a new round of tears.

When he looked back up, he caught George and Angelina sharing sad glances. They were a good couple. He was
glad his brother had found someone he could begin to rebuild his life with. Someone who could handle the
swings between his usual, easy-going nature and dark, depressive moods.

"Do you watch each other sleep?" Ron asked before he could consider how ridiculous the question sounded.

"What?" Angelina asked while George chortled into his coffee.

Ron sighed. Oh well, he was already in it. He may as well get his answer. "Hermione said our relationship lacked
details—whatever the fuck that means. She said we loved each other generally, but that we didn't love the little
things about each other, like how we look when we sleep or all the different shades of our eyes or—I don't know
—shit like that.

"But she's just fucking mental. She's just looking for excuses to be with Harry. She just wants him because he's—
he's Harry Potter. I can't compete with that. And just because I've never really watched her sleep doesn't mean
we're not good together. You know?"

George and Angelina exchanged another glance. "There's a lot to unpack there, Ron," George began, rubbing the
back of his neck.

"Go for it. Unpack it."

"Okay," he replied in a tone that said, You asked for it.

"First off, if Hermione really is leaving you to be with Harry, it's not because he's Harry Potter. Give her more
credit than that. And the details—" He sighed and looked over at Angelina. "I can't say I've ever watched
Angelina sleep but … I do know the details. Like the difference between her 'I want something' smile, her 'I know
something' smile, and her 'I did something' smile."

Angelina beamed at him.

"I know things about Hermione," Ron argued. "She's my best friend. I know that look she gets in her eye when
she's about to lose her temper. I can tell by the set of her shoulders if she's stressed or annoyed. And I know when
she's tired, too. Her eyes glaze over and she sways on her feet."

"Those are all negative," Angelina pointed out. "Maybe you started noticing all those things as a defense
mechanism."

"No," he countered. "I know other things. Like—how she likes her tea. Her favorite café. The exact pens she likes
and which Muggle shops sell them."

"But that's just—"

"Whose side are you on?!"

"We're on your side," George said calmly. "Of course we're with you, Ron. But, frankly, you need to consider this
'sides' thing. Is there a way to get through this break-up without there being any sides? Are you really not going to
talk to Harry or Hermione ever again?"

"Yes." But even as he said it, his throat clenched.

They were interrupted by the arrival of an owl at the window. They all recognized it instantly as his mum and
dad's new owl, Pollock, that George had bought them last year. George opened the window and took the letter
from Pollock's beak as Angelina offered the owl a few scraps of toast from her plate.

George frowned as he read.

"What is it?" Ron asked, fearing the worst. Something had happened, someone was hurt. Or worse, someone was
—

"Everyone's fine," George said with a dismissive wave. He set the note down on the counter. "It's about Ginny.
She and Harry broke up last night."

"Oh." Ron got up to put his plate in the sink. His hand was shaking as he held the plate, making the fork rattle
slightly. He'd been holding out hope that Hermione was wrong. He'd been hoping that she'd misunderstood—that
Harry didn't really love her—that he'd just been overwhelmed by the mix of emotions that came from seeing his
parents.

Ron had been harboring a fantasy of finally talking to Harry about it at work today. Harry would clear everything
up, be embarrassed for sending Hermione the wrong message, and reassure Ron that the "break-up" with
Hermione was just a fight, one they'd get over, like all the others.

Ron would have to apologize for punching him but Harry would forgive him. He would understand. But it was
just a stupid fantasy. Harry had broken things off with Ginny. Now, he and Hermione were free to be together.
That dark fear Ron had held in his heart for years was finally coming to pass.

Ron swiped his arm across his eyes as he rushed to the front door. "I need to stop by my flat before work. Thanks
for—you know."

"Still up for the pub?" George asked.

"Yeah. I'll come straight here after work."

As Ron stood on the crowded lift, on his way to the Auror Offices on the second floor, he began to regret his
decision to come into work today. He wasn't ready to see Harry. Just the thought of it was making him shake. He
should have called in sick. But he had a case report due and was assigned stake-out duty with Jones this
afternoon. If Ron backed out, Jones would be stuck with Rant, that old stodger, and would complain about it to
Ron for weeks.

Ron could do this. He'd survived the bloody war, then Auror Training. He could handle a few hours of
discomfort. A few hours of sitting next to his best mate—who had betrayed him—who had spent two weeks in
another world sleeping with Hermione, telling her how much he loved her and convincing her to leave Ron.

He was flushed with anger by the time the cool voice in the lift said, "Level 2 – Department of Magical Law
Enforcement." He could feel the heat on his cheeks and ears, which just made him more embarrassed, causing the
warmth to spread. Ron walked off the lift with a few counselors, then stopped on the side of the hall to take
several calming breaths.

He didn't want Harry to see him looking flustered, but no matter how many deep breaths he took, Harry would
know. Harry knew him better than anyone—except Hermione. Ron had to blink fast to keep the tears at bay as he
remembered her face from the night before. And her words.

"In the other world, I saw another way it could have gone ... I deserve someone who understands me ... I've
thought, this whole time, that this was the only way and I—I was wrong."

"Fucking hell," Ron murmured under his breath.

He slammed his hand against the wall, causing a pair of young witches who were walking past to jump. Ron just
glowered at them. This fucking sucked. Usually, when he was feeling like this, he went to Harry. Harry was
always there, had always been there. He'd put up with so much shit from Ron over the years and still, had never
left. Ron had been the idiot who left—not Harry.
And he'd promised himself he'd never leave Harry again. Hell, he'd even promised Harry. He still remembered the
conversation. It was a few nights after the final battle and they were staying in one of the Gryffindor boys'
dormitories. As they lay there in bed, each looking up at the red curtains, Ron had apologized for leaving Harry
and Hermione during the Horcrux hunt.

He'd been close to tears as he apologized for doubting Harry, not just during the war, but also in Fourth Year. Ron
apologized for every indiscretion he could remember, then all the ones he couldn't and by the end, he made a firm
promise to never leave Harry's side again, no matter what happened.

But now… Surely, this was an exception. Harry had betrayed him in the worst way. How was Ron supposed to
forgive him? He took a final breath and squared his shoulders, bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

But Harry wasn't at his desk. His bag wasn't even hanging on the hook on the wall. That was odd. He'd never
missed a day of work. Not even when he'd caught that awful cold several months before. He'd just downed a
Pepper-Up Potion and spent the day reviewing Floo records while smoke trickled out of his ears. Before Ron
could decide if he cared enough to ask around for Harry, Robards called his name from across the floor.

"Weasley! Jones! Lawson!"

Ron stood and that's when he spotted Harry walking out of Robards's office. He was wearing normal clothes, grey
slacks with simple black robes, instead of his Auror robes—which was the first thing Ron noticed. The second
thing Ron noticed was that Harry looked like absolute shit. He had deep blue bags under his eyes, his hair was
messier than normal, and he was slouching, which wasn't a common stance for him.

Ron's chest clenched automatically. What are you doing? You don't care about that tosser! He betrayed you. But
the voice was weak. It turned out it was a lot easier to hate Harry when he wasn't standing in front of him, looking
even more miserable than Ron felt.

"Weasley!" Robards repeated.

"Coming, Chief."

The next moment, Ron was standing next to Harry while Jones and Lawson stood on Harry's other side. Harry
had his bag draped over his shoulders, which was strange. Was he leaving? Hadn't he just arrived? He was
pointedly avoiding Ron's searching gaze, looking at Robards, instead.

"Potter is resigning. You three will be taking his cases," Robards said gruffly.

"Wait, what?" Ron cut in.

Harry kept his eyes forward. "Sort it out before Potter leaves," Robards said, glaring at Harry, who was looking
back at him, determinedly.

"You're leaving, mate?" Jones asked Harry once Robards had returned to his office. "Why? We just finished
training."

Harry ignored his question and pulled a pile of parchment out of his bag. He handed it to Lawson, who looked
completely unphased by the news that Harry Potter, the most famous Auror in their department and the best of the
new recruits, by far, was quitting.

Then again, Lawson was unphased by most things. Ron had been there when the wizard was attacked by a
banshee and while everyone else had dropped to the ground, frantically pulling their hands up over their ears,
Lawson had calmly conjured a set of earmuffs and put them on, removed a Laughing Potion from inside his
robes, and forced the Banshee to drink it without balking as she dug her nails into his arms. There wasn't much
that rattled the man, including the news that Harry Potter was no longer an Auror.

"I made notes on every case this morning, as you'll see," Harry was saying. His voice was devoid of emotion, the
way it got when he was doing interrogations. Ron tried to catch his eye a few more times, as he explained his
 notes which were so thorough, Ron was convinced by the end of Harry's review that Hermione had helped with
them.

As that thought materialized, his earlier pity toward Harry disappeared, quickly replaced by anger. Had Hermione
gone to Harry's last night? Had she slept there? Was that why he looked so tired?

No. Harry didn't look 'I shagged all night tired.' The exhaustion looked more like a result of crying all night. He
felt bad for Harry again. But Hermione could have still been there. Comforting him, rubbing his back as he cried,
and keeping his bed warm. The fire flared up in Ron's chest again. Fuck. He didn't know what to feel about this
situation.

And now Harry was quitting? Harry? Who had worked harder than anyone and made it through the training
program in record time? Harry, who had been the youngest ever Auror to make a solo arrest? Harry fucking
Potter, the wizard who had killed bloody You Know Who?

"Let me know if you have any questions," Harry was saying, "but I think you'll have everything you need in
there."

"So that's it?" Jones asked. "You're just—leaving?"

"Yes," Harry replied. He turned to go, but Ron caught his arm.

Harry looked down at Ron's hand, then up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time that day. His green eyes were
devoid of their usual intensity, but still bored into Ron stronger than the average stare. Harry arched an eyebrow
in question. When Ron didn't say anything, he gave him a curt nod and pulled away, marching to the lift without
another word.

"Weasley!" Robards said, appearing on the other side of his door and holding an unfolded interoffice memo. "The
Minister needs to see you in his office. Now."

"Oh, uh, okay." Since when did Kingsley want to meet with Ron? What the fuck was going on?

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I've written over a million words of HP fanfic and have never had writer's block… until this chapter.
Hopefully it wasn't as painful to read as it was to write. I found being in Ron's head rough.
 Home, Part 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

August 2001

Hermione was in the lift with Miller, on her way to Kingsley's office.

"When I showed you how the alarms in the Department of Mysteries worked, I didn't expect you to use that
information to disarm them," Miller said.

"I didn't disarm them," Hermione countered.

"No. You used one of the power crystals to set up a strong Stasis Charm around the twelve receptors, essentially
rendering them useless while the Charm was in place. That's the closest you could get to disarming them."

"I needed time."

"For what?"

Hermione ignored him. "Don't pretend you didn't show me how those worked so I'd be able to work around them
if I needed to one day."

Miller just smirked. Just then, the doors to the lift opened. Her boss was waiting a few paces ahead, wearing a
frown. Hermione squared her shoulders. "Mr. Inman."

"Miss Granger. I'm very disappointed in you. I never expected—"

"Yes, Sir," she said, cutting him off. She wasn't in the mood for this speech again. "Is the Minister ready for us?"

He glared at her but didn't say anything else as he led the way to Kingsley's office. "Careful, Granger," Miller said
under his breath.

She jutted her chin out and pulled her shoulders back, trying to display more confidence than she was feeling. If
this was going to work, she had to stay strong. She could break down when she returned to her flat.

"Miss Granger," Kingsley's booming voice said from behind his desk. He didn't even bother to stand and greet
her. She could tell he was angry. Not just from his slight, but by the set of his jaw.

"Leave us alone," Kingsley said, never taking his eyes off of Hermione. Miller and Inman let themselves out of
his office while Hermione went to stand in front of Kingsley's desk.

"You may sit, Miss Granger."

She carefully took a seat in one of the green high-backed chairs in front of his desk. "Minister," she said politely.

Kingsley rolled his eyes and shoved a parchment across his desk. "Don't 'Minister' me. Here, sign this."

Hermione scooted her chair closer and bent over to scan the page that Kingsley had already signed. She knew
what it was. It was a magical contract that would keep her from informing anyone else of what she'd seen in the
portal. After verifying Kingsley hadn't added anything out of the ordinary to the contract, she picked up the quill
he'd placed on top of the page and signed it. When she pushed it back to Kingsley, she noticed he already had a
contract with Harry's signature at the bottom.

"You talked to Harry already?" she asked carefully.

"I did," Kingsley confirmed. "I met him in the atrium as soon as he arrived this morning."
Hermione nodded. She wondered if Harry had put up a fight about signing the contract. She should have thought
to warn him, but there had been so much going on and she thought her Stasis Charm would last through lunch.

"After signing this, he resigned," Kingsley continued.

"Oh," Hermione said, eyes widening in surprise. Harry hadn't wasted any time, had he? A part of her hadn't
expected him to actually go through with it. At least, not this quickly. Did that mean he was going to go through
with everything else he'd committed to? Her heart leapt at the thought.

Focus, Hermione. You're not finished here.

"I've lost one of my brightest Unspeakables and my most promising Auror and it's not even nine," Kingsley said
sharply.

"No. Not a great start to the day."

He snorted, then placed Hermione's contract onto the side of his desk, on top of Harry's. "I already have my staff
out looking for Ginny Weasley and Ron Weasley. Is there anyone else you told?"

Hermione shook her head.

Kingsley sighed and leaned back in his chair as he fixed her with a stern glare. "You know this isn't standard
practice."

"Yes. I know." Hermione straightened in her seat.

"You know that if you hadn't frozen the alarms that would have alerted us to an unauthorized use of the portal, we
would have been there in minutes and Obliviated the two of you."

"Yes. I've heard that's the normal protocol."

"But you did freeze them, to give yourself time to tell more people, and probably to work out some elaborate
system of timed letters and spells that would allow you to blackmail me if I threatened to Obliviate you. Perhaps
an article sent to the Prophet about how I prevented the precious Chosen One from enjoying the few memories he
has of his dead parents."

Hermione swallowed hard. "Correct."

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at her. "So, that's how you're going to play this? You're going to antagonize the
Minister for Magic?"

"It appears so."

It hadn't occurred to Hermione until Pacifica that there was a very real possibility of her and Harry being
Obliviated upon their return. She'd stayed up all night, staring up at the glass ceiling of the suite as she worked
out a plan. She knew she could use the information Miller had given her about the protections in the Department
of Mysteries to freeze the alarms. Then, it was a matter of using the extra time to put enough safeguards in place
to remind herself about what had happened in the other dimension, even if Kingsley erased her memory.

And finally, once Kingsley found out what she'd done, she'd either have to beg him or blackmail him to keep her
and Harry's memories intact. She'd been ready to do both, but he seemed to have skipped over that part for her.
She was relieved, since she hadn't been keen on threatening the Minister for Magic, though she would have done
it, if she had to.

Kingsley sighed heavily. "I don't want to enter into a battle of wits, especially with someone as determined as
you. Keep your memories. You and your friends have proven capable of keeping important secrets."

"Thank you, Sir," she said earnestly. "Harry deserves this. After all he gave us—all he sacrificed—everything he's
endured—he deserves to remember—"
Kingsley held up a hand to silence her. "I've already agreed. And now—" he tapped the contract, "—you can't tell
anyone else. Though, I imagine you only ever intended to tell Mr. and Miss Weasley." He sighed again and
although he looked extremely exasperated, she sensed a hint of admiration in his eyes.

"If you'd played this differently, Miss Granger, I was ready to discuss other job options for you at the Ministry."

Hermione simply nodded. She knew after she executed her plan, any hope of working at the Ministry would be
gone. She'd already crossed all those jobs out in the notebook back in the other world.

"Was it worth it?" he asked. "Losing your career for—what? Some memories?"

"It was worth it," she said immediately, the words coming out stronger than she'd intended.

He regarded her for several moments, then stood and reached out his hand. She stood up and shook it. "Very well.
Good luck, Miss Granger."

She wasn't sure if he meant it ironically, but said, "Thank you," nonetheless.

Kingsley called Miller and Inman back in and instructed them to walk Hermione out of the Ministry after she'd
had a chance to clear her desk.

Hermione met Ron in the hall, standing nervously outside Kingsley's office. His eyes widened when he saw her.
She could tell he wanted to ask a hundred questions, but he was summoned into the office by Kingsley before he
got a chance.

The lift back to the Department of Mysteries was awkward. A heavy silence hung between the three of them. The
few people who joined them on the lift on the way down were decidedly uncomfortable—but that could have just
been because they were Unspeakables.

As soon as they were back in the Department of Mysteries, Inman rushed off without so much as a goodbye to
Hermione while Miller escorted her to her desk. It didn't take long for Hermione to clear it. She had hardly any
personal effects. When she was finished, Miller walked her back up to the Atrium.

"What did you do?" he asked.

She was surprised Inman hadn't told him. Maybe he didn't want to give the other Unspeakables any ideas.

The contract she'd just signed prevented her from giving Miller any details. As she formed the thoughts in her
mind, the magic from the contract made her sick. "I burned it down," she said eventually.

He nodded appreciatively. "And…? Did you discover anything?"

She grinned. "Yes and it—it destroyed my entire life."

"Hmm. Was it worth it?"

"I don't know, Miller," she said honestly.

They'd reached the exit. He held out his hand and she placed her badge into his open palm. Miller nudged her
elbow. "Take care." He gave her a final nod, then was gone.

Hermione stood in the atrium, which was nearly empty, for several moments, looking at the fountain. This one
was different from the one that had been here before. This one wasn't trying to make any statements. It was just a
pretty fountain made up of hundreds of golden rods that looked like oversized wands, crisscrossing to make an
artistic pattern.

She'd always liked this fountain and as she watched the jets of water, she realized it would be a long while until
she saw it again. Hermione walked closer to it and once she confirmed no one was watching her, she tossed a
knut into the water. It was common for Muggles to toss coins into fountains for luck and she'd been surprised to
find that Wizards didn't do the same thing. It seemed the right thing to do now, sort of like a farewell gesture to
the Ministry—a place she'd always had mixed feelings about. Plus, maybe she'd get a bit of luck. Lord knows she
could use it.

She turned around and made her way to the exit that led to the Muggle world, fancying a walk. But when she
emerged onto the pavement, pulling an umbrella out of her bag to shield herself from the rain, she had no idea
where to go. She didn't have a plan. Not only that. She didn't have a job. Nothing to do to occupy her time. No
regular source of income.

She also didn't have a fiancé and may have lost her surrogate wizarding family. What did that leave her with? A
flat she may not be able to afford anymore, a clever cat, parents who still hadn't forgiven her for Obliviating them,
and Harry. Her lips turned up slightly. Harry. How was he? Was he handling the loss of Lily and James okay? Had
he broken up with Ginny last night, like he'd planned?

She needed to see him. Hermione started walking in the direction of Grimmauld Place but after two blocks, she
forced herself to stop. Harry had just been through a lot. He'd lost his parents, lost his job, and broken up with
Ginny. It may be best if he spent some time alone. If he needed her, he could Floo or send a Patronus. He knew
she'd be there in an instant. But now, she should focus on herself. She'd spent so much time and energy worrying
about other people, she never sat and considered what she wanted.

"You help everyone around you, never hesitating to sacrifice yourself so others can be happy. But when it comes
to your own happiness, you don't fight. Why is that?"

"No idea, James," she said aloud. "Maybe it's time for me to figure that out." An elderly woman noticed her
talking to herself and frowned at Hermione slightly. Hermione just shrugged and turned around, back in the
direction of a coffee shop she'd discovered a few weeks ago that was attached to a quaint-looking bookstore.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she walked. She had no idea what she was doing. And it was… okay.
Kinda. Sort of. Maybe. She was… managing. Honestly, it was everything she could do to keep from retching on
the side of the road, but it was okay. She was okay.

It's not like she had nothing. She had the list of jobs Harry had made in her head and when she got back to her
flat, she could recreate it from her memories. Then she could go through the list of jobs again and maybe this
time, pick something she truly wanted instead of the job that someone else told her she should do.

It had taken her fourteen days to completely destroy her life. Now, it was time to see how long it would take her
to put it back together.

After quitting his job, Harry returned home and climbed straight into bed, not bothering to remove anything but
his shoes. He managed to sleep for a few hours and woke up just before noon, drenched in sweat. Well, that's
what he got for sleeping in his robes. He peeled off his clothes and got in the shower, standing under the hot water
so long, it turned cold.

Harry reached his hand out of the shower and grabbed his wand from the counter. He tapped the faucet to turn the
water hot again, then forced his body to move and wash himself, reasoning he couldn't stand in the shower all
day, no matter how nice it felt.

He resolved to keep himself busy for the rest of the day. Going room by room through the house, he collected all
the items that belonged to Ginny, floating them into several boxes he'd set on the light blue sofa in the sitting
room. She'd picked out the sofa and she may want to take that, too. He'd offer it to her, along with any items he'd
missed the next time he saw her, though he had no idea when that would be.

He pushed the thought from his mind and continued going through the house, sending books, clothes, hair
bobbles, blankets, and picture frames into the boxes downstairs. By the time he was finished, it was clear that
Ginny had been behind everything in the house that made it cozy. Once the rooms were stripped of her items,
they were barren and dark. Harry was reminded of the time they'd spent hiding here, during the war. He shivered
slightly, then sent the memories to the back of his mind.
Next, he reviewed the inventory of his Potions stores. He was out of Dreamless Sleep, as he'd discovered the
night before. He could also use several more bottles of Pepper-up Potion, another jar of Dittany, and more vials of
Calming Draught.

Harry spent the next hour scouring through some of his old Potions books and listing out the ingredients he'd
need to brew the potions himself. He usually just bought the potions already brewed from the Apothecary, which
was more expensive, but he'd always valued his time more than his money. But now, he had nothing but time.
And it would be nice brewing potions without the stress of Snape hovering over him or Hermione glaring at him
for using Snape's book.

As he thought of Hermione, his heart clenched. How was she? Was she still with Ron? He suspected not. Ron had
looked tired and sad at the Auror Offices earlier and Harry was pretty sure Ron wouldn't have stopped by and
punched him just for falling in love with Hermione and kissing her a few times. She must have dumped him. And
Ron blamed Harry, of course.

Harry blinked back tears and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing back on the list of ingredients
he needed to get from the Apothecary. He checked the time. Damn. It was later that he'd thought. The Apothecary
would be closed soon. He'd also planned to go to the grocery store today, so he'd have food for Teddy.

Harry set the potions texts and notes to the side and plodded into the kitchen. He stood in front of the refrigerator,
staring blankly at its limited contents for several moments before closing the door and leaning against the counter.
He was officially out of energy. The idea of going through the food he had, determining what he needed, making
a list, and going out and buying the items on the list was more than he could fathom. This was a bad sign. He'd
always been the type to press-on, even when he felt like shit. But now—he just couldn't.

He ate two pickles and a handful of raisins for dinner, then shuffled back upstairs. Even though it was barely six
o'clock, he climbed into bed, stripping down to his underwear this time. He turned the lamp off with his wand,
placed his glasses on the bedside table, and stared up at the ceiling, lying completely motionless. He couldn't
sleep—because he wasn't tired—but he also couldn't bring himself to do anything else. An hour later, his stomach
growled, but he didn't have the energy to get out of bed and resolve the problem, so he ignored it. He was used to
ignoring hunger.

At a loss for anything else to do, and eager to avoid the dark thoughts hovering at the edges of his mind, he
started running through Quidditch plays in his head and replaying the most memorable matches he'd seen. When
sleep hadn't come after another few hours, he reached into his drawer for the snitch Dumbledore had left for him.

Its wings had stopped fluttering last year and Harry had felt unusually sad about it. It was like losing an old
friend. Which was ironic, since he'd lost so many real friends and family that the loss of an inanimate object
shouldn't have mattered. But it did for some reason. Fuck, he was in a shit mood, wasn't he?

Harry cast a few floating lights around the room and began tossing the snitch up and down. He focused hard on
the gold body of the snitch, the silver wings, and the reflection it was making on the ceiling as it floated up and
down, anything but the darkness hovering at the edges of his consciousness.

The next morning, before Harry had a chance to wake properly and organize his mind, the thoughts he had been
trying to avoid the day before hit him with the force of one of Ginny's Reductor Curses. He groaned as the
thoughts of Ginny, Ron, Hermione, his parents, his job, and how utterly alone he was, caught up with him. That
darkness he'd always associated with his early years with the Dursleys descended, immobilizing Harry in the bed.

After staring blankly at the wall for an hour and breathing heavily through the pain in his chest, he forced himself
to get up and walk downstairs to the study. Harry pulled a piece of parchment off the desk and scribbled a quick
note to Andromeda, saying he had come down with a cold and couldn't watch Teddy today, then he folded the
page and turned toward the window.

Hermes, his owl, was asleep in his cage. Harry prepared an owl treat before reaching out and stroking the light
brown feathers of the owl's head. Hermes's orange eyes opened wide, then he ruffled his feathers and tsked, but
Harry cut off his show of frustration by placing the owl treat between his beak.
"I know you're annoyed, but I need you to deliver a letter." Harry tied the note to Hermes's leg as he chewed his
owl treat, looking slightly mollified, but only just.

"I'm not completely alone," Harry said as he reached over Hermes to open the window. "I have you, don't I?"

Hermes let out a noncommittal hoot and flew out the window, not even sparing Harry a backward glance.

"Always a pleasure, Hermes," Harry said darkly, pulling the window closed, but leaving it cracked so Hermes
could get back inside.

He sighed and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. He and Hermes had never bonded in the same way
he and Hedwig had. Hermione said once she thought it was because Harry had kept himself guarded around the
owl, not wanting to get attached to another pet. Harry dropped his head in his hands and several tears escaped the
corner of his eyes as he thought of Hermione. He wanted her. Needed her. She was the only person who
understood what he was going through and probably the only person who would come if he called.

But he was currently sitting at his desk in his underwear, shivering in the cool air that never left this house, no
matter how warm it was outside, while he cried after being snubbed by an owl. Maybe now wasn't the best time
to call a witch he was trying to impress. Though, honestly, he and Hermione were so far past that. But still, he
should try to get through this alone. He couldn't call Hermione over every time he felt sad.

Sad? This is so much worse than sad.

"Yeah, I know," Harry grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet and went back to his bed, burrowing under the
warmth of his blankets.

The birds were starting to sing outside the window. He tried to focus on their song and allow the sweet melody to
ease the ache in his chest. It didn't work. After lying there feeling sorry for himself for an indeterminable amount
of time, Harry forced himself out of bed, into some clothes, and downstairs to the kitchen.

He ate two tomatoes, three slices of toast, and a jar of olives for breakfast (he desperately needed to go to the
grocery store). Then, Harry grabbed the Daily Prophet that had been delivered earlier and went to the sitting room
to read it. After scanning the pages and confirming he wasn't in any of the articles, he tossed it to the side and fell
into a fitful sleep.

Harry was awoken by his own shouts an hour later. He'd had the same nightmare he'd had back on Hølen island,
of Voldemort killing his parents. He panted as he ran through his mantra.

None of it is real. It's just your fucked up mind messing with you. He's gone. You've won. And your parents are
safe...in another world. They're dead here, as you know.

"Fuck," he swore. They were dead. The other James and Lily were alive out there, somewhere, but in this world,
his parents were dead. The scenes running through his mind were Voldemort's own memories of the night he'd
killed them and before—that had been bad enough. But now, he knew the people in the memories. Knew what
they liked and disliked, had heard about their pasts, and could even imagine what they'd say if they were here
right now.

That emptiness that had been with him his whole life was finally defined. It had a name, a face, a laugh. Before, it
had been heavy, but invisible and now … that picture of what he was missing was so fucking clear. And it wasn't
just a fantasy—his mind trying to figure out what could have been—it was fucking real. It was a real fucking life
that someone else—someone who had suffered a hundredth of what he had—was living! How was that fucking
fair?!

Where had he gone wrong? Clearly, he'd done something wrong in this world to piss off the "powers that be." But
he'd tried so damn hard. Sure, he'd made mistakes. Lost his temper on his friends, took people for granted, used
that Dark Curse against Malfoy. But mostly, he'd done alright. And still, he was punished while the other Harry
got everything: a happy outcome to the war, his parents, Hermione, an easy job, and even Ron and Ginny as
friends.
There were no outward expressions adequate to express his grief. Tears weren't enough. Not even close. So, he
just laid there, motionless, as his soul wept. His insides were shattered—his heart torn and bleeding, with no
promise of relief—but still, if he was given the chance in that moment to erase the trip and take the pain of
knowing away, he wouldn't take it. He didn't know if he could hold the weight of this burden, but he wouldn't
give it up for anything.

"It's not forgetting that heals, but remembering," his mum's voice echoed in his mind. "Even when it's hard, you
have to face the past, the loss, the things your mind's trying to get you to forget."

And so, Harry remembered.

He began with Ginny. He remembered their first kiss and those few weeks of bliss in Sixth Year, when it felt like
he'd been borrowing from someone else's life, a thought that held more meaning now than it ever had before. He
remembered how desperately he'd clung to her after the war. How they couldn't keep their hands off each other
and spent most of their time having sex during her breaks from school. It had been exactly what he needed: hot,
distracting, and uncomplicated. He'd fooled himself into thinking all the fun they were having was enough to
sustain a marriage. But he hadn't known any better. There was no one to tell him any better.

Hermione tried and you pushed her away.

There you go again, thinking about Hermione when you're supposed to be focusing on Ginny.

Harry forced himself to remember Ginny and some of his favorite memories of their time together, but his mind
didn't stay there long. It pulled him to thoughts of Ron, next.

He remembered how hurt he'd looked in that moment before he'd punched Harry. He remembered his expression
from the morning before at the Ministry, a mixture of anger and concern. He remembered when they first met on
the train to the day Harry defeated Voldemort, and all the moments in between.

That year after school, which Harry didn't think he would have survived without Ron. Auror Training, countless
visits to the pub, and the night Ron told Harry he was going to propose to Hermione. Harry had congratulated him
and even gone to help Ron with the ring. He'd doubted whether Ron and Hermione were really right for each
other, and had been blind to his own feelings. He was such an idiot. He could have avoided everyone so much
pain if he'd only figured it out sooner.

Harry Summoned a blanket from the chair and curled up under it. Since he was already wrapped in a cocoon of
depression and self-loathing, he decided to dredge up the old wounds too. He remembered Sirius, Lupin, Tonks,
Dumbledore, and Fred.

Fuck. This was awful. What was he doing? He wiped his tears with the edge of the blanket. He didn't want to be
this person, crippled by grief. Sobbing in a dark, depressing house as he remembered everything he'd lost. There
was no way this was healthy. He should have forced himself to see Teddy, today. He didn't have the energy to
play much, but he could have put on a Muggle film and held Teddy on his lap. He could have shed a few tears in
the dark, then focused on Teddy's solid warmth for comfort. This—this was awful.

His mum had told him to remember. She said it was good. But remembering didn't seem to be helping. And now,
he was just remembering Lily, which was worse than all the rest of it combined.

Since he'd returned from the other world, his mind had been reaching for memories from the past few weeks, but
Harry kept pushing them away. Now, he let himself recall one of the days. He picked their visit to the Forgotten
City, when his mum and Hermione had charmed the Fire Lizards.

But it felt off. The pleasure of remembering was lost without someone to remember it with. He needed Hermione.
That had been his one hesitation with signing Kingsley's contract. He was worried he wouldn't be able to talk
about what he saw in the portal, but Kingsley said the contract would only prevent him from speaking about it
with anyone he hadn't already told. He could still discuss the trip with Hermione. The only problem was, she
wasn't here, and he was starting to think he'd made it all up.
How was she doing? Had she really broken up with Ron? Was she okay? Why had she done it? Did she love
Harry back? Should he call her? He wanted to call her so badly. He'd never felt so lonely and was questioning his
ability to get through the rest of the day by himself. But he refrained.

If she came now, it would be to comfort him and once again, their relationship would be all about him. He didn't
want to call her until he was in a state to give her comfort, for a change. And he certainly wasn't in that state now.
Plus, it was possible she wouldn't even want to see him. Maybe she blamed him for the breakup. Ron certainly
did.

An hour passed and he was still depressed and could feel it getting worse—could feel himself falling into a dark
hole he was worried he wouldn't be able to get out of. He needed help. He needed Hermione. She was the only
one who had seen him this bad. Well, no. There was one other person, but he wasn't an option. Harry dipped his
head down and shed a few more tears, surprised he had any left.

Stop this! You've wallowed for too long. Get up!

Harry reached for his wand on the table. His hand was shaking as he tried to cast a Patronus. It was embarrassing
how many times it took him to generate the silver stag. When he saw it, he nearly collapsed from the wave of
longing and sorrow that crashed into him. It was his father. Exactly.

"I could use a friend," he said, his voice shaking with tears as he spoke to the stag. "And I—I suspect you could,
too."

He waved his wand to send the Patronus away, falling back onto the couch and pulling the blanket back over his
shoulders as he wondered how his plea for help would be received. They'd promised to always be friends and if
that wasn't going to be the case, it was better to find it out earlier than later. He could add that to the long list of
losses threatening to drown him.

There was a knock.

Harry ignored it.

Whoever was there knocked again, this time more insistently.

It didn't make any sense. Anyone on the short list of people able to make it through the wards and reach the
doorstep of Grimmauld Place would usually let themselves inside. Harry pulled the blanket up around his arms,
got to his feet, and shuffled toward the door. Surely, this wasn't in response to his Patronus. There was no way
that—

"Fuck," he said once the door was open.

"Always the tone of surprise."

It was Ron. He was here, at Harry's house. And Harry couldn't be sure, but it didn't look like he was going to
punch him again. Ron was dressed casually in jeans with a dark blue button-down shirt hanging open over a
Weasley Wizard Wheezes t-shirt. He was holding up a six-pack of beer. "I drank my weight in Whiskey last night
and am still feeling it—so I reckon we should stick to beer—if that's fine."

Harry simply nodded as he stepped backward, making room for Ron to come inside.

"Are you cold?" Ron asked, gesturing toward Harry's blanket.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said hoarsely.

They stood awkwardly in the entryway, each unsure what to say. It was Ron who eventually broke the silence.
"Not sure why you look so shocked to see me. You're the one who sent the Patronus, after all."
By the way Harry was looking at Ron like he had suddenly sprouted tentacles, it was clear he hadn't expected him
to come. Ron hadn't either. When the Patronus had showed up at George's flat, he'd been about to send it away
before hearing its message. George had caught his arm and forced him to listen to Harry's broken voice. Ron had
faltered, slightly, but still decided to stay away.

He wasn't ready. Maybe later, after a year or so, they could find a way to get past it. And that was a big maybe,
depending on how much Harry groveled and whether things would work out between him and Hermione.

Ron had told George this, who nodded through the explanation, then said, "If you can't figure out how to be okay
with this Harry and Hermione thing, you're going to lose them."

"It's my best friend and my fiancée!" Ron had argued. "He stole her!"

"I'm not saying I don't blame you," George had said. "You're within your rights to hate them and push them out of
your life for good. Just—understand what that means. Is that what you really want?"

It wasn't what Ron wanted. He was so angry and hurt and fucking sad, but Harry was his best mate and what he'd
done—it was so un-Harry-like. So Ron had decided to bury the emotions as best he could and come hear him out.
He could always punch him again and leave, if he had to. But now that he'd seen Harry, he knew he wasn't going
to hit him. It would be like kicking a baby niffler.

He was wearing a blanket like a cloak over pajama pants and a grey t-shirt. His hair was standing every which
way, his glasses were dirty, there was a full day's growth of stubble darkening his face, and his eyes—those were
the worst. His green irises were swimming with pain, framed by bright red veins from crying. And their color was
closer to grey than green.

The wonderful Harry Potter, everyone, Ron thought bitterly. But he regretted the thought instantly. Fuck, if they
only knew. One thing was clear, Hermione definitely hadn't been here.

"I thought you would have called Hermione," Ron said, a slight edge in his tone.

"I haven't seen her since Thursday."

"Clearly," Ron snorted.

Harry just responded with a wounded look.

Ron sighed and rubbed his face with his palm. "We broke up. She broke up with me." He watched Harry for his
reaction and was pleased to see that he looked legitimately surprised.

"I didn't know," Harry said softly.

"You ruined my life," Ron said simply.

"I ruined mine, too, if that makes you feel better."

"It does."

They stood in silence for a few moments, the awkwardness heavy in the air. Ron eventually spoke, since it was
clear Harry was waiting for him to take the lead. "Can we go inside or are we going to drink here? This hall still
gives me the creeps. I keep expecting Sirius's mum to start yelling."

"Yeah, er, okay." Harry led the way back to the sitting room. He went to the smaller, tan couch and began puffing
the cushions before taking a seat. He finally took his blanket off and draped it over the edge of the couch which
made him look slightly less pathetic, but only just.

There were boxes piled on the blue couch opposite and Ron guessed from the contents they were Ginny's things.
He moved them onto the floor with his wand and took a seat. Ron grabbed a beer from the pack and opened it,
then nodded for Harry to help himself.
Harry didn't notice the invitation. He was staring distantly at the fireplace. "I'm moving," he said after a few
moments.

"Huh?"

Harry looked back at Ron. "You said the thing about Sirius's mum—it made me think of it. My dad—," he cut off
and paused to take a breath, "—he said I should move. He said Sirius would hate the idea of me living here. And
—he's probably right."

"I've been telling you that for years."

"Yeah," Harry replied weakly.

Ron sighed. "Here. Take a beer."

Harry got up and grabbed the bottle out of Ron's hand. As he was settling back on the couch, Ron said, "So you
cut it off with Ginny, quit your job, and are going to move. You really are determined to destroy everything solid
in your life, aren't you?"

"No," Harry replied. His voice was soft, but his eyes were alight with determination. "I wasn't trying to destroy
this."

"Well you fucking did," Ron snapped. He breathed heavily through the pain in his chest. "I'm so fucking angry
and all I want to do is curse you. You knew how bad this was. You, more than her, knew."

Harry looked miserable and Ron could tell by his look that he was remembering the locket, just as Ron was. But
Harry didn't drop Ron's gaze. He seemed determined to face this.

Ron shook his head. "I hate this—I hate what you did—but—" he paused to sigh. "You're my best mate. You've
never been selfish—ever—and—fuck!"

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"I know." Ron set his drink down and pressed his face into his palms. They were cool from the beer bottle. "I feel
like shit. I feel worthless and like a fucking idiot and you did that. And I knew there was something there. But I
convinced myself she wanted me, like a fucking idiot. And you told me it was nothing."

"I wasn't lying. I didn't know."

"Did she know?"

Harry shook his head. He looked on the verge of tears. Ron picked up his beer and took a large gulp. "You broke
this—into a million fucking pieces but it's not—destroyed."

There was a long silence, then Harry said, "You're not an idiot. And you're not worthless. I'm sorry I made you
feel that way. You got me through so much in my life. You're my best friend and a much better friend than I
deserve at the moment. I mean, look now. You're here, you came, and that's—that's huge."

Ron just snorted and waved dismissively. There was another silence. "So this isn't ... destroyed?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron breathed.

"So … fixable?" Harry's eyes were shining with tears.

"I reckon so. Wouldn't be here if I didn't think so."

Harry's lips turned up and he took a large swig of beer. Ron watched him blink back tears as he settled back onto
the couch.
Harry looked closer to that terrified kid Ron had first seen at King's Cross Station, the skinny boy who didn't
know how to get onto the platform, rather than the powerful teenager who had dueled You-Know-Who and won.
He looked like that boy who was desperate to belong, fearing he was going to get thrown out and forced to go live
with his aunt and uncle again, rather than the man who was revered by everyone in their world, who was
constantly stopped on the street to stand for a photo or give an autograph.

"I've never seen you this bad."

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever been this bad," Harry admitted.

"What is it? Your parents?"

"Yeah." He looked down at the ground. "I think I'm paying the price of getting to spend the last few weeks with
them."

Harry took another drink from his beer, then looked up at Ron. "I didn't know. I didn't tell her—I—didn't want—"
He paused. "Hermione," he began again. "I didn't tell her to break up with you. I—I do love her—I figured that
out but I—I just wanted her to pick who she wanted. I'm sorry. I really am."

"She wants you," Ron said roughly.

A flash of hope crossed Harry's face. "I don't think—she never said."

Ron lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I told her how I felt and we agreed to defer the conversation until we returned. She never said she loved me back
and I—I really didn't know she'd just come back and break up with you. I was planning to tell you first and
apologize and—I am so sorry."

Ron's expression hardened. "You kissed her three times."

"Yeah," Harry said as a warm flush crept up his neck. "But it was only at the beginning of the trip. Once there
were feelings, I stopped. I never meant to break anything between you."

"But you can't deny you wanted this to happen," Ron pressed. "You love her. You want to be with her. And this—
this has been there the whole time—hasn't it?" Ron could feel that fire building in his chest again.

"Maybe," Harry admitted, "but I didn't know. Honestly, I didn't. And I—I think she should be happy. If she'd
stayed with you, I would have figured out how to be fine with that."

"And now?"

Harry shrugged. "I love her. Desperately, completely. If at the end of this she wants me, I'm not going to push her
away."

Harry's eyes were fierce and determined. Ron was struggling to keep his temper in check. Harry was choosing
Hermione over him. And she'd already chosen Harry over Ron. It fucking hurt, being passed over by his two best
friends. But he hadn't missed the change in Harry's demeanor.

For the first time tonight, he looked like his normal, strong self, willing to fight for what he thought was right.
Hermione sparked that in him. And there was logic to his statement, even though it fucking hurt. Hermione
should choose. If Ron really loved her, he should let her choose and find a way to accept her decision.

And if he was being completely honest, he was relieved. The thought of canceling their wedding plans was like a
weight being lifted off his shoulders. That wasn't a great sign, was it?

He heard George's voice again. "If you can't figure out how to be okay with this Harry and Hermione thing, you're
going to lose them."
Then he thought of what Harry had said about his parents. "I think I'm paying the price of getting to spend the last
few weeks with them."

There was a price to loving people. Especially if one of those people was Harry fucking Potter. There was a
considerable amount of pain that came with being Harry Potter's best friend. The pangs of jealousy and feelings
of inadequacy, which would only be amplified if Harry ended up with Hermione. But Ron thought it might be
worth it.

He was the best person Ron knew. He pushed Ron to be better, without even realizing it. First, by choosing Ron
as a best mate and then, by constantly expecting Ron to perform as he would in any given situation. And now,
Harry had made it clear what he would do. So, in that moment, Ron decided that he wanted to keep Harry in his
life, even if it fucking hurt. He took a drink, then made a peace offering. "I'd be lying if I said we didn't have
problems. I kept waiting for her to tell me how to fix them, but that was wrong. I shouldn't have been relying on
her that much."

Harry just nodded, at a loss of what to say. He thought Ron had been about to punch him again and now… this?
Maybe they were going to be okay. Relief flooded through him for the first time that day. He finished off the rest
of his beer and went to grab another from the pack.

"How's Ginny?" Harry asked after he'd returned to the couch.

"She's staying at the Burrow, but I haven't seen her. She'll be fine, though."

"I hope so. She was really angry."

"Did she hit you with anything?"

"No hexes. Just a slap. It was nothing compared to that punch."

Ron let out a small laugh. They were quiet for a few moments but unlike their previous silences, this one wasn't
uncomfortable. "Why did you quit?" Ron asked after several moments.

"It's kind of a long story."

Ron shrugged. "We have time."

"Yeah. Okay."

Harry told him about the trip to the Veil and his conversation with his dad afterward. "Do you think it was the
same for you?" Harry asked at the end. "Did you become an Auror to try to avenge Fred's death? Or do you really
like it?"

"I joined because you did."

"Oh."

Ron smiled. "You didn't know that?"

"I never really thought about it."

Ron snorted, then placed his empty beer bottle on the table. He laid back on the couch and looked up at the
ceiling. "So, it sounds like the Auror thing is done. What are we going to do next?"

He looked at Harry and almost laughed when he saw the goofy grin on his face. He felt a rush of pride. Harry had
been a shattered mess when Ron had arrived and now, he looked like a living person again. "No idea," Harry said
brightly. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

"Always do," Ron agreed.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Writing this chapter was physically painful for me. The goodbyes back in the other world were sad, but
they only made me cry. Writing about Harry dealing with the loss, however, caused my chest to clench
painfully and I had to take tons of breaks to get through this part. So…yeah. Writers do pour their heart and
soul into their stories, so here's a quick reminder to be nice to writers. There's actually a real person behind
all these words!

I know a lot of you will find it too unbelievable for Ron to forgive Harry this quickly, but one of the main
themes in this story is personal growth and if Harry and Hermione can grow so much, why not Ron? Keep in
mind, these are his people, the only friends in his life besides his own family members, who feel even closer
than family, in a way. Okay, off to take several deep breaths to clear the tightness in my chest… Take care!
 Home, Part 4
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

August 2001

For the third night in a row, Ron woke up in a bed that wasn't his. As he regained consciousness, he realized he
wasn't in a bed, but on a couch. He turned his head to find Harry sleeping on the smaller sofa on the other side of
the room. Ron smiled as he remembered their failed attempts to extend it the night before.

"You'd think our spells would get better when we're drunk," Harry had slurred, waving his wand around. "You
know—without inhi—inhibit—inhibitch… Bugger. That's a hard word to say."

Ron had grabbed the middle of Harry's wand and pulled it out of his grasp. "Give me that before you accidentally
blast a hole in the wall. Also, it makes perfect sense that we're bad at spells when pissed. What doesn't make
sense is how you got so pissed after just three beers and a shot of Whiskey."

Harry's mouth had fallen open and he looked a bit like a troll trying to solve an Arithmancy problem. "Oh!" he
said eventually, his eyes brightening. "I haven't eaten real food since Thursday."

"That'll do it," Ron replied. He pushed Harry out of the way and tried his hand at the sofa, but he was only
slightly more successful than Harry had been, managing to get it to stretch a few inches on each side. He wasn't
as far gone as Harry, but he was past the point of being able to do complicated spells.

"You could just sleep in your bed and I can take the spare room," Ron suggested.

Harry's face fell. "Oh, yeah. We could do that."

Ron knew he didn't want to sleep alone, but was too embarrassed to say so, even with his "inhibitches" gone.
"You'll just need to pull your knees up," Ron said, clapping Harry on the back before returning to the much nicer
blue couch Ginny had picked out a few months ago. "I'm taking the larger couch. I'm taller, and you stole my
fiancée."

Harry snorted as he laid down and pulled the blanket over himself. "How long are you going to use that one?"

"Forever."

"Okay. Just checking." The next moment, Harry was asleep, snoring so loudly, Ron had needed to cast a Silencing
Charm on him before he was able to fall asleep.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, Ron sat up on the couch and stretched his arms over his head.
The remnants from their activities the night before were scattered over the coffee table. Empty beer bottles, an
expensive bottle of Whiskey Harry had insisted they open with several shots missing, a Wizarding Chess set—
which Ron had suggested they play, claiming he could use the confidence boost—and several scraps of paper
where Harry had drawn out little diagrams to explain the more complicated parts of his trip to the other world.

Ron had asked him to explain everything, except the parts where he'd backstabbed his best friend by falling in
love with his fiancée.

Harry had winced, but still launched into a detailed account of his trip. He'd dutifully avoided all mention of
Hermione, but Ron could still feel her in the background, a steady presence that had kept Harry sane and given
him the strength to continue through what sounded like an incredibly draining two weeks.

Ron could not imagine what it would be like to live in a world where another version of him had received
everything Ron had ever wanted, with none of the hardships. And what was worse, the other Harry had done
nothing to deserve his idyllic life. He'd just been lucky enough to be born in that world, and not this one. No
wonder Harry was such a mess.

"Hey," Harry croaked from the opposite side of the room, throwing his arm over his head to guard against the
light.

"How shitty do you feel?" Ron asked, trying to suppress a grin.

Harry carefully moved his head side to side, keeping his arm over his eyes. "Very shitty," he said eventually.

"Good."

Harry smiled.

They pulled themselves to their feet and stumbled into the kitchen. Ron opened the fridge and scowled at the
contents. "Why am I getting flashbacks to all that time we spent starving while on the run?"

"Not sure, since you spent three months of that time eating warm meals at Shell Cottage," Harry quipped. He
ducked just in time to avoid the egg Ron had thrown at him. It splattered on the wall behind him.

"Oi! Do I need to remind you about the fiancée you stole from me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry grumbled, lowering himself into the chair slowly to avoid moving his head too much. He
cleaned the mess from the cracked egg with a wave of his wand before turning back to Ron, who had closed the
refrigerator door. "So, there's nothing in there?"

"No. I'll go and get something from that coffee shop up the road."

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind. It'll give you time to take a shower. You look like hell and smell like a dung heap."

Harry flipped him off, but knew he was probably telling the truth. As soon as his head stopped spinning, he'd go
take a shower. It was a good idea.

Ron was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching him. "Do you need a
Hangover Potion?"

Harry nodded carefully. "I'm working up the energy to Summon one."

Ron rolled his eyes, then waved his wand. The vial of Hangover Potion appeared in the room and he caught it
easily, then placed it in front of Harry. Next, he conjured a glass of water and set it next to the Hangover Potion.

"Drink those, then take a shower. I'll be back with food and copious amounts of coffee."

"Thanks."

Ron nodded and made his way to the hall.

"Hey, Ron?" Harry asked when he was in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You just said that."

"Yeah—I meant—erm—for—" Tears welled in his eyes, which were back to looking green again.

"Yeah, I know." Ron gave Harry a quick nod before disappearing into the hall.
After breakfast with Harry, Ron took the boxes Harry had packed for Ginny back to his flat, planning to bring
them to her when he went to the Burrow for dinner. Harry's face had fallen at the mention of the Burrow. He
usually joined them for Sunday dinner but—well, he wouldn't be able to go for a while. Not until Ron's family
came to terms with Harry and Ginny's breakup. And they didn't even know about Ron and Hermione. Fuck, Ron
would have to tell everyone tonight.

If it were up to Ron, he wouldn't tell his parents about Harry's involvement in Hermione's decision to break up
with him. But he was sure Ginny had already told them that Harry had ended things with her because he'd
realized he loved Hermione. From there, it wouldn't be too hard to guess why Ron and Hermione had broken up.
Fuck, this was going to suck.

He pushed the thought from his mind as he Disapparated to an alley a few blocks from Hermione's flat. Ron
stopped by her favorite coffee shop on the way, picking up a large cup of tea and a muffin. When he reached the
landing outside her flat, he hesitated. Maybe he should have called ahead. Or at least sent his Patronus, warning
her he was coming. He nearly returned to his flat to do just that, but stopped himself. He was already here,
holding a to-go cup of tea and a bag of food. Was he really going to go back home?

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It took her a long time to answer. So long, that Ron was starting
to get worried. She must be here. Where else would she go? Her parents' house? No, she wasn't very close to
them. The only place he could imagine her going was Harry's and she obviously wasn't there, since he'd just left
there.

He was about to knock again when the door opened slowly. "Ron?"

"Uh, hi." He held up the paper bag and to-go cup like a peace offering. "I brought you breakfast."

"Why?" The door was opened all the way so he could finally see her. Hermione looked tired. She was wearing a
pair of leggings with an over-large sweater—one of his, he noted. His heart swelled at the thought of her choosing
something of his to wear. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, being held by a few pens, and there were dried
tear tracks on her cheeks.
friends
"I'm here to win you back," he said, giving with
her a small grin.your ex
absolutely
"Oh." She dropped her eyes and focused intently on the thick woolen socks she was wearing.

Ron reached out and patted her elbow. "I'm kidding. I just—uh—came to check on you."

She looked up at him through her lashes. Fuck, she looked sad. The thought comforted him. How bad of a person
did that make him?

"You did?"

Ron nodded and held out his offerings. "Black tea, strong with a splash of milk, and a lemon poppyseed muffin.
Both from The Coffee Garden."

She took the items slowly. Her eyes were regarding him warily, but she didn't seem to be able to help a smile
from tugging at her lips. "I don't—I don't understand."

"Can I come in?"

Hermione nodded and stepped backward to make room for him to pass through the doorway. Once Ron was
inside, he closed the door behind him. Hermione stood in the middle of the entryway, holding her to-go cup and
bag as she stared at him.

"I'm still really sad," he began, nervously running his fingers through his hair. "I'm also angry and honestly, the
fact that you're clearly hurting is something I'm glad about. That's—awful—I know but—um—" He paused to
sigh. "I love you. That's not going to stop. You're one of the most important people in my life and I need to know
that we can still be friends. I need you in my life—okay? And, I don't know…"
"Yes," she said immediately. She set the items on the side table and went to stand in front of him. "Yes, please.
That's exactly what I want."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!" Tears started falling down her face. "I thought I was going to lose you. I was convinced we
wouldn't be able to just—be friends after this but I—Ron, I'm sad too! I just broke up with someone I've loved for
years. Someone I was ready to marry. That's—that's—" Her tears finally caught up with her words, then overtook
them. She dropped her face in her hands.

Ron stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She dropped her hands from her face and wrapped her
arms around his middle, holding him with surprising strength, given how exhausted she looked. "I'm so sorry I
hurt you," she wailed into his chest. "I never meant to."

Tears stung his eyes as he propped his chin on top of her head. "It's okay," he said comfortingly, rubbing her back.
"You're okay, Hermione."

She just sobbed into his shirt. He could feel a wet spot growing where her tears fell but didn't care. He just pulled
her closer.

It was pretty sad how Harry and Hermione had tried to deal with this alone. Ron had George and Ginny had their
parents. Harry and Hermione didn't have a support system like that. They had each other, of course, but Ron
suspected they'd stayed away from each other for his benefit. He tightened his grip on Hermione.

"You're okay," he repeated.

She leaned back and looked up at him. Tears were still pouring out of her eyes and her face was red and puffy
from crying. "How are you so calm?"

He shook his head. "No idea. Don't get me wrong, I'm devastated and I've done my share of crying. I'm just in a
lull, I guess. I'll be bawling again soon. Probably tonight, when I tell everyone."

"Oh, yeah." She stepped back, untangling herself from their embrace. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

"Thank you for coming." She picked up the to-go cup and took a drink. He was glad to see that the tears had
mostly subsided.

Ron bit his lip, then forced out the words he didn't want to say but knew he should. "You don't have to do this
alone, you know."

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "Yes," she said softly, pausing to take another sip from the cup. "I
know there's Luna and Neville. And my—uh—parents. But—I don't know. I'm fine. I have Crooks, too." She
cocked her head toward the window sill, where Crookshanks was perched. He twitched an ear at the mention of
his name, but kept his gaze focused outside, looking like he didn't want to be bothered by their antics.

"Yes," Ron said slowly, struggling to get the next words out. "Them. Or, your best friend, who's going through the
same thing you are."

Hermione froze in the middle of drinking her tea, causing a bit of the hot liquid to spill down her neck. Ron had
to resist the urge to laugh. She was eying him warily and he half-expected her to ask him a Polyjuice question. "I
—what?"

"Harry broke up with Ginny the same night we did," he provided, studying her face. She looked genuinely
shocked. Well, at least his fear that they had planned out their break-ups so they could fly off into the sunset
together was proving to be unfounded.
Hermione's throat tightened at the thought of Harry. He'd done it. He'd kept his promise and broken up with
Ginny. Now, more than ever, she wanted to see him. Yesterday, she'd been determined to forge this new path
alone. She would meditate, find out what was important to her, and figure out her future. Then, when she had a
clear plan, she'd call Harry.

She'd expected it to take three days. Five, at the most. What a joke. Meditation had lasted thirty minutes and got
her nowhere but a place of intense frustration as she realized just how terrible she was at controlling her own
mind. Then, she'd found herself curled up in a ball on the couch, missing everyone she'd lost in her life from Ron,
to James and Lily, to Dumbledore, to her aunt who had died when she was seven.

Three days. She scoffed inwardly. It was probably going to be more like three years, maybe longer. Ron's voice
pulled her out of her thoughts. "Hermione?"

"I don't understand. It's been two days and you're suddenly … okay … with me and Harry?"

"Fuck no!" he said forcefully, making her jump slightly. "I mean—I'm trying to be mature. I reckon if I pretend
I'm okay with it, I will be one day. Or—I don't know."

Honestly, the thought of them together, even on opposite sides of the room, not touching, made him want to
punch something. Even though he'd accepted that there had been a lot of problems with his and Hermione's
relationship, it didn't mean he wasn't upset it was suddenly over. And the way it had ended… Bloody fucking hell.

"I'm angry," he admitted. "I'm so fucking angry with both of you. You went behind my back. You took him to that
world knowing you two were engaged there! I have to imagine you knew something like this would happen. And
—" He stopped to take a deep breath. "I'm trying to be okay with it, even though I'm not. Because I can't—I can't
lose you. Either of you."

Ron knew first-hand what it was like to have a loved one ripped away from him. And the thought of losing Harry
and Hermione in one go—when he was able to prevent it... He blinked back tears. He was desperate to keep that
from happening, no matter what it took. And they seemed just as committed to keeping him as a friend, which
helped. They weren't treating him like a burden they longed to be rid of.

Hermione took a step forward and placed a soft hand on his arm. "You're not going to lose me."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "And you're right to be upset. It was wrong, what I did, and I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Good," he grumbled, still breathing heavily to combat his rising temper.

"And I'm not going to be with Harry."

His eyes snapped to hers, searching for a lie, but there was none there. "You're not?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not now. Not … soon. I just lost my job and my first love. I'm not going to rush into
something new. He shouldn't either. For all those same reasons, and more. Plus, I'm not over you."

"You're not?"

Hermione gave him a sad smile. "No, Ron. Just because it was my idea to break up, doesn't mean I'm not sad
about it. It's going to take time."

Ron let out a giant sigh of relief. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Thank Merlin," he
murmured against her warm skin. "I was trying to be mature and all, but I wouldn't have been able to handle
that."

She let out a small laugh. "I know."

By the time Ron left, Harry felt like a new wizard. He was still sad, still alone, and still wanted to strangle the
other Harry for getting the life he wanted. He was still guilty about what he'd done to Ron and Ginny and
desperate to see Hermione, but the feelings weren't paralyzing. He was able to get dressed and go outside for
some much-needed groceries and fresh air.

He brewed a batch of Dreamless Sleep in the afternoon and had just finished bottling the brew when there was a
knock at the door. "What's with all the knocking on the door?" he asked the room. The room, luckily, didn't
answer.

After shoving the dragonhide gloves he'd forgotten to put away into his pocket, he opened the door to find
Hermione standing on the doorstep, holding two carrier bags.

"Hermione."

"Hi."

"Shit. You're here."

She dropped her eyes and blushed slightly. "Oh. Uh. So I am."

"No, sorry." Harry stepped forward and grabbed the bags out of her hands and placed them on the floor as she
followed him inside the house.

He gave her a warm smile as he took in her appearance. Damn, she was beautiful, even though she looked a bit
tired. She was wearing jeans with a red cardigan and cream top and her hair was hanging over her shoulders in
loose curls. She had the otter pendant necklace on and was shifting her weight nervously, probably because of his
rude welcome.

"I'm thrilled you're here, really," he began to explain. "But I had this plan to come over to your flat and formally
invite you to a weekly meal. You said you're always the one setting these things up and I wanted to show you I
could too—but you beat me to it."

"Oh." She returned his smile. "I just thought tonight would be good since—uh—we usually go to the Burrow, so
we're both free."

"Yeah," he nodded sadly. "Good idea."

Harry couldn't drag his eyes away from her. She seemed just as caught up in him, which gave him the confidence
to take a large step forward, shortening the gap between them.

She closed the rest of the distance and brushed her fingers along the side of his arm.

He lifted his hand to her face and traced the line of her jaw with his index finger. His chest clenched at the sorrow
he saw in her beautiful brown eyes. "How are you?"

"Sad."

"Me too."

Harry dropped his hand and took her palm in his. She looked down at his chest. "Ron came by this morning. It
was really nice of him. I could tell he was trying to be mature about this whole thing."

"Yeah. He was here most of yesterday and stayed over last night."

Her eyes widened. "He did? Wow." It was one thing forgiving her, but forgiving Harry? And so quickly? "When I
was imagining how all this would go, I wasn't giving him enough credit."

"Me neither."
She leaned her head forward, resting it on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. She smiled as she
realized he smelled the same in this world as he did in the other. He felt the same, too. It hadn't just been their
other bodies that fit so well together.

Hermione wrapped her hands behind his back. Harry buried his face in her hair and they just stood there, holding
each other for several moments. This is exactly what he'd been missing for the past few days. This was what he
needed, Hermione in his arms. Now that she was here, back where she belonged, the impossible tasks ahead of
him: finding a new job, moving, trying to repair what he'd broken with Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, coping
with the loss of his parents all over again, seemed doable.

Harry leaned back, keeping his arms wrapped around her, and looked down at her. She lifted her head and smiled
when their eyes met. It occurred to him that this was the first time he was holding her since they'd broken off their
engagements. The first time they were allowed to do this.

His gaze drifted to her lips, then back to her eyes. There was desire there, pushing away the sorrow he'd seen
earlier. He grabbed her chin. When she didn't protest, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She smiled. He kissed the length of her grin as he moved his second hand behind her neck, burying it in her curls.
She tilted her head and began moving her lips against his. A fire in Harry's chest roared in triumph. She was
kissing him back!

He was content to keep it like this, slow and gentle, but Hermione had other plans. She moved her hands up and
gripped his shoulders as she deepened their kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth, where his tongue met hers
eagerly.

She continued to raise the intensity, digging her nails into his shoulder, pressing her tongue harder against his,
speeding up the pace, then biting his bottom lip as he paused to take a breath.

Harry met every move, eager to take as much of her as she was willing to give. They paused for breath again but
stayed close, exhaling warm air against each other's lips.

Hermione wanted to take his hand and guide him upstairs. She wanted to take his shirt off, then his trousers, and
press herself against him. She wanted to run her hands along his chest and explore his body. She wanted to satisfy
the need that had been growing in her over the past week. She wanted him, so badly, and it took every ounce of
willpower to place a hand on his chest and step backward.

Because she knew if they did this now, Ron would be in the bed with them. Probably Ginny, too. It was too soon.
And if she was being honest, she was still worried about the sincerity of Harry's feelings. When they finally did
this (if they ever did this, a weak voice corrected) she wanted to be sure it was real, and she wanted to be sure it
was just about them. Even now, Ron's hurt and angry expression was lingering at the corners of her mind,
threatening to fight its way to the forefront of her thoughts.
"We shouldn't," she said, dropping her eyes to her hand, which was still on his chest.

"Okay," he breathed. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted it up. "I love you."

She smiled.

"I'm sorry about the kiss," he said, looking embarrassed. "I probably shouldn't have—"

"Don't apologize," she cut in. "It's not like I was pushing you away or anything."

"Quite the contrary," he added with a grin.

Her blush deepened and she squirmed in his arms, but he just tightened his grip on her, keeping her in place. "It
was a good first kiss," she allowed.

Harry swore.

"What?"

"I didn't realize it was our first kiss, but you're right. It was—at least in this world. Damn. I should have picked
somewhere better than the hall where Sirius's mum used to yell at you."

Hermione patted his cheek playfully, then finally managed to extricate herself from his firm embrace. She went to
get the carrier bags Harry had set to the side and led the way to the kitchen at the back of the house. She placed
the bags on the counter and turned to face Harry.
"I actually, um, didn't expect us to be—you know -"

"Snogging?" he provided, a grin playing on his lips.

"Precisely." She took a deep breath. "We both have a lot going on. We lost our jobs, we lost our fiancés, and we
lost Lily and James. In the midst of all that, we should focus on our friendship. So, I think we should do these
Sunday dinners as friends. So just, friends having dinner and being … friendly," she ended lamely.

Harry gripped the edge of the counter and leaned toward her. "Do you want to say 'friends' one more time?" he
joked. "Just to really drive the point home?"

That earned him a smile.

"I get it, Hermione. Really. You're right, as usual. I was just thinking that it would be smart to take some time and
to think about my relationship with Ginny. Examine what went wrong and where we could have done better, you
know?"

She nodded as she took the food she'd brought out of the bags. "That's a really good idea."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. Then I saw you, and it completely left my mind. But I am going to do it—figure out where
I went wrong so that when we finally get together, it lasts."

She blushed again. He went to the other side of the counter to help her sort out the groceries.

"Thanks for bringing all this, by the way. You didn't have to."

"I didn't mind. It was a good excuse to get out."

Harry nodded knowingly. After they'd unloaded the groceries, Harry grabbed Hermione's arm while she was on
her way to the stove to pull out a pan.

"Hey," he said, his tone serious.

She nodded for him to continue.

"Is this—us—a possibility one day?"

"It's certainly possible," she said noncommittally.

Harry stepped closer, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, "What if I took my shirt and glasses off?"

She forced out a laugh as the feeling of his warm breath on her neck sent a chill through her. His eyes were
dancing with amusement, but she could sense a hint of fear there.

"I just need time, Harry," she whispered. "The feelings are there. I think … that was clear." She cocked her head
toward the entryway.

"Okay. I just wanted to check."

"And to answer your earlier question about the shirt and glasses," she continued with a smirk. "I'd say that would
upgrade this to a definite possibility."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, trying to keep his expression serious as his eyes sparkled with mirth. "Okay. We'll see
how the night goes."

Two weeks later, Ginny was walking down Diagon Alley, trying to hide her nerves as she approached the
restaurant where she was meeting Parvati. She checked her reflection in the glass of the storefronts as she walked,
wondering if there would be a photo printed with the article.
As she made her way down the street, she nervously twirled her ring around on her finger. It was pathetic that she
was still wearing it, but she couldn't help herself. It was beautiful and the finest thing she owned, by far. But more
than that, it had been a promise of a better life. The sort of life she'd always dreamed of with a boy she'd loved for
so long, she couldn't remember when it had started. One thing she was certain of, she had loved Harry first,
before Hermione even knew he existed.

She scowled as she looked down at the ring on her finger. She'd moved it to her other hand, but it was still
pathetic. At least Harry had let her keep it. He'd delivered the message through Ron, since Ginny refused to speak
with him. Ron, however, had forgiven him, or was trying to. Ginny had no idea what that was about—it was so
out of character for her brother—but frankly, she didn't care. She had her own problems to be getting on with.

She focused back on the task at hand, stopping to fix a stray lock of hair that had blown out of place. She usually
didn't care this much about her appearance, but in case there was a photo of her accompanying the article where
she planned to tell the world what a selfish prat their beloved Chosen One was, she wanted to look her best.

Ginny had waited as long as possible to begin canceling her wedding plans. The venue needed to be canceled
before the end of the month, when the second payment was due, so she'd started with that. Harry had offered to
help (again, through Ron) but Ginny had brushed them both off. In a twisted way, she liked the chore of canceling
her wedding, one task at a time. Each one served to fuel her anger, which helped stave off the sorrow hovering at
the edges of her consciousness. She knew it was unhealthy, but didn't know what else to do.

Then, two days after she'd canceled the venue, she'd received a note from Parvati, asking if Ginny wanted to catch
up. Ginny knew exactly what the note was about. She had never been friends with Parvati, who was a year older
than Ginny and far too shallow and giggly for Ginny's liking. But this meeting wasn't about two friends catching
up. Parvati was a reporter for Witch Weekly. "Gossip writer" was a more accurate term, but the official title that
had appeared on the business card she'd left with the note was "reporter." Even without the card, Ginny would
have known what Parvati wanted. She wanted the story.

Usually, Ginny would have brushed her off. She rarely divulged details about her personal life, especially when it
came to her and Harry. She knew how private he was. Plus, it wasn't anyone's bloody business. But this time…
she'd agreed to the meeting. It was petty, she knew that, but simply put, she wanted to hurt Harry just as much as
he'd hurt her. She also wanted the reassurances she knew she'd get from the public that she was a much better
catch than Hermione Granger.

Ginny's stomach turned at the thought of her friend. Former friend, she corrected. She blinked back tears as she
turned the corner. When her eyes landed on the entrance to the restaurant, she froze. Bollocks. Luna was there.

She was standing a few paces from the door to the restaurant, staring at a large, glass frame that typically held
posters for an upcoming concert or ballet. This one was empty, but Luna was studying it like it held the answers
to all of life's mysteries. With how engrossed Luna was in studying the empty frame, Ginny thought she may be
able to slip past her.

She decided to try, cursing herself for never learning Disillusionment Charms as she crept behind Luna toward
the door to the restaurant as silently as possible.

"Hi, Ginny," Luna said airily, keeping her head forward.

Ginny let out a sigh and turned to face Luna. "Oh! Luna. I didn't see you there."

Luna turned and frowned, but didn't comment on Ginny's obvious lie.

"Sorry I can't stay and chat," Ginny said, "but I have a meeting." She gestured toward the restaurant.

"With who?" Luna asked.

Now it was Ginny's turn to frown. Luna may be distant and terrible with normal social conventions, but she was
sharp and the second Ginny told her she was meeting with Parvati, Luna would know why. Her brows knit
together as she tried to think of a plausible lie.
"Is it Harry?" Luna asked. "Is that why you're nervous?"

Ginny blinked quickly and looked away from Luna. Luna saw her blinking back tears, then noticed her fidgeting
with her ring, which she was wearing on the wrong hand. Her heart ached for her friend.

It was clear something significant had happened between Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They'd been
marching calmly toward futures neither of them really wanted and then, suddenly, the whole thing had been
turned on its head. Neville had a hundred theories about it, each one more implausible than the last, but Luna
knew exactly what had happened.

It all came down to Wumblewigs. They were mostly invisible creatures that settled in people's minds, distorting
their thoughts. Similar to Wrackspurts, but with more subtle effects. They preyed on children but as most people
grew, and their brains enlarged to fill the gaps between the brain and the skull (which was where these creatures
typically took up purchase), the Wumblewigs grew uncomfortable and flew away.

Wumblewigs were behind childish fantasies, like growing up to be a knight or finding a tall, handsome prince to
marry. When they finally left, it could be jarring for the individual, and usually led to big life changes, like
divorce or a career change.

It made perfect sense to her that the loss of the Wumblewigs would lead Harry, Hermione, and Ron to suddenly
quit their jobs and end their current relationships. They were finally allowed to think clearly, without interference
from those infernal pests. It was just too bad Ginny hadn't managed to shed hers, yet.

"Not Harry," Ginny was saying, drawing Luna's attention back to her. "Just, someone else. But—uh—I really
should be going."

Luna narrowed her eyes at Ginny, causing Ginny to freeze in place. Luna rarely looked at anything this fiercely.
"I'm sorry about you and Harry," Luna said with a gentle tone that didn't match the harshness of her gaze.

"Yeah, you've said," Ginny replied carefully. She tried to sidle closer to the door, but moved slowly. It was almost
like the air around them had thickened to the consistency of quicksand. Had Luna done something? No, Ginny
was just being paranoid.

"I know you and Harry aren't talking now," Luna continued, "which is too bad. But I hope one day you'll be
friends again."

Ginny scowled. "I told you what happened. He fell in love with Hermione. How am I supposed to forgive that?
We may never be friends again. I know it's hard for you," she added snippily, guessing (incorrectly) that this was
Luna's point, "but you're going to have to learn to be friends with us separately."

Luna chewed the inside of her cheek as she chose her next words. Ginny hoped the conversation was finished,
since Luna was staring off into the distance, but when she tried to move, her motions were sluggish. Luna had
definitely cast some sort of charm.

Ginny rolled her eyes and was about to ask Luna to drop the enchantment when Luna said, "Harry chose to
follow his heart. That's all we can do, isn't it? And if it had been you who had found happiness with someone else,
what do you think he would have done?"

Ginny opened her mouth to defend herself, but no words came out. It wasn't due to any spells this time. She just
didn't have anything to say to that. Luna reached out and patted her arm and the next moment, she was gone,
loping down the street in a meandering path. Once she'd turned the corner, the air around Ginny lightened and she
could move normally again.

Ginny squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and marched into the restaurant. Parvati was waiting for her,
nearly bouncing in her seat with anticipation. She didn't waste any time. As soon as the waiter delivered their
drinks, Parvati leaned in and said, with an impressive lack of tact, "So what happened? What did Harry do?" She
reached out and gave Ginny's arm a small pat. "You can tell me everything."
Ginny hesitated, fidgeting with her hands under the table. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To tell the world
how awful Harry was. She obviously couldn't tell the whole truth, thanks to Kingsley's contract, but she could
speak about Hermione, and how Harry had decided to be with her out of nowhere. And she wouldn't even be
lying. It would explain Ron and Hermione's break-up too, which had also been a point of speculation in the
papers.

This wasn't wrong. She was just telling a friend what had happened.

Now you're pushing it. Since when is Parvati a friend?

Ron was going to be so angry with her. Honestly, her whole family was going to be angry with her. They all knew
about Harry and Hermione by now and while their responses had been varied (from Bill's solemn nod to her
mum's outrage), no one would approve of her sharing the details with the papers.

But it wasn't her family's words echoing in her mind and keeping her from speaking. It was Luna's, of all people.

"If it had been you who had found happiness with someone else, what do you think he would have done?"

Damn, Luna. Ginny couldn't do this. No matter how angry she was with Harry, she knew this was wrong. After
everything he'd done for her, for her family, for the entire world, he didn't deserve this. Especially since she knew
that if their positions were reversed, as Luna had said, he would have stepped aside and let Ginny be happy.

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. That damn wizard. She loved him, even still, and the fact that she'd lost
him hurt. But this wasn't the way to deal with it.

"Well?" Parvati asked, cutting into her thoughts.

Ginny glared at the witch. "How dare you pretend you're here as my friend. We barely know each other, but you
didn't waste any time 'reaching out.' We both know you don't care for me one bit, or Harry, for that matter. You
just want your stupid story."

Parvati's fake smile turned into a grimace. "Is that why you came here? To lecture me?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I'm not going to sit here and lecture you for picking such a harmful career, especially
after everything we went through in the war. Wouldn't you want to pick something that helped the world, instead
of hurting it?"

"Right. Like Quidditch," she bit back. "You and your friends are so loony."

Ginny was already out of her seat and barely registered the slight about Quidditch. She'd been expecting it and
honestly, she didn't care what Parvati thought of her choice of career, but she focused on the last part of the
statement. "What's that about my friends?"

Parvati shrugged. "I saw Loony Lovegood on my way in. I'd say she's making you all mad."

Ginny clenched her hand around the wand in her pocket, but knew she couldn't do anything. Not in a crowded
place like this. She just needed to get out of here. Away from this awful witch. Once outside, she stopped to take a
deep breath. Her eyes drifted to the spot Luna had been standing in, obviously waiting for Ginny.

She'd known exactly what Ginny had been about to do and had tried to deter her in her special, Luna way. Ginny
smiled, then turned on her toe and Apparated to the first place she could think. She reappeared a few seconds later
on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place.

She was a little surprised the wards had let her in. Then again, she wasn't. She couldn't see Harry doing something
as vindictive as altering the wards to keep her out, although that was the first thing she'd asked her parents to do
at the Burrow. Her dad refused but even then, Harry hadn't been by the house.

Ginny swallowed hard, her hand shaking on the doorknob. She couldn't do it. She couldn't see Harry. She didn't
want to hurt him (well, not publicly) but that didn't mean she was ready to forgive him. Not now. Not… for a
while. Honestly, probably not until she'd found a better husband and had had a few beautiful kids. Maybe then,
she would be able to face Harry.

She shook her head at the ridiculous thought, but it's how she felt. She pulled her hand up to her face (the one
with the ring) and started crying into it. Damn, she was pathetic. What was she doing? Crying on her ex-fiancé's
doorstep? She never cried.

She tried her best to collect herself, at least enough so she could Disapparate. She reappeared at a familiar house a
few miles from the Burrow. She had no idea why she'd chosen this house, of all places, but it was the first one
that had popped into her head and she was just desperate to leave Harry's before she was caught.

She could just go home from here, but something made her approach the odd house. As Ginny approached the
door, being careful to avoid the dirigible plums, she wondered if Luna would even be here. It hadn't been clear
from their meeting in Diagon Alley if she'd been heading straight home.

Luna opened the door before Ginny could raise her hand to knock. "Ginny," she said warmly, as if she'd been
expecting her to show up unannounced.

Ginny threw her arms around the slight witch, finally releasing the tears she'd been holding back for weeks. "I
hate you, Luna."

"There will be a new moon tonight, the carrots in the back garden are not infested with obunjos, and there are no
such things as nargles."

"What?" Ginny asked.

Luna leaned back and gave Ginny a wide smile. "You said you hated me, but we were saying untrue statements,
right? Like a game."

Ginny let out a teary laugh. "Sure, Luna."

Luna moved back into the house. "Do you want to come inside? You can cry some more. It may help dislodge the
Wumblewigs."

Ginny shook her head as she followed after Luna. "Why not? Maybe after I've got all the tears out, you can tell
me what the bloody hell you're talking about."

Back in London, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were in the back garden of Grimmauld Place, lying on their backs in
the grass and looking up at the clouds while Teddy flew around them on a miniature broom.

They'd originally ended up on the ground at Teddy's insistence that they find all the shapes in the clouds, but he'd
quickly grown tired of the game, since it conflicted with his goal of moving each muscle as much as possible
before bedtime. So Harry had Summoned the toy broom, knowing it would buy them at least twenty minutes of
peace before Teddy decided to move on to the next activity.

This was the first time since their breakups that the three of them had hung out together. It was awkward, but
having Teddy around as a distraction helped. It also helped that Harry and Hermione were determined to make
this as easy for Ron as possible.

They were being a bit extreme about staying away from each other: making a point to be on opposite sides of the
room, avoiding each other's gazes to a point of excess (even when one of them was talking, the other wouldn't
look at them), and refraining from any mention of their recent trip, though Ron could tell it was on both of their
minds. He appreciated the gesture, though hoped with time they'd all learn how to act naturally around each other
again.

As Teddy played through a made-up Quidditch match in his head, yelling out the occasional Quidditch term,
Harry, Ron, and Hermione discussed their jobs.
"I'm going to move to the Magical Law Enforcement team," Ron was saying.

"Really?" Hermione asked. "What made you choose that?"

"When I got to thinking about it, I realized I sort of liked being an Auror but without all the extreme stuff," Ron
explained. "That's pretty much what the MLE is. Aurors, but less. They don't have as long of hours and don't have
to deal with all the dark stuff the Aurors do. They have the same general skills though, so I'm already qualified."

"Overqualified," Harry corrected.

Ron blushed. "Yeah. Maybe."

"That's brilliant, though," Harry continued. "What did Robards say?"

"Wonky fint!" Teddy shouted.

Ron turned and grinned at Hermione. "Isn't that how you say it?" He blocked the punch he knew was coming,
then turned back to Harry. "He mostly told me how angry he was with you. He assumed my decision to move was
all your fault, which was sort of true."

"Not really," Harry replied. "This is just you finally choosing what you want for yourself. You should be proud. I
hope you like it."

"Thanks," Ron replied, unable to help but smile. It was weird, being the only one out of his friends with a steady
job. He never would have guessed they'd end up like this in a million years. But it was good for Harry and
Hermione to take some time. Better than rushing into something they didn't like.

He winced at the last thought. It was similar to what they'd been doing with their weddings. Rushing into
marriages with their first loves while ignoring the obvious signs that something was wrong. Ron pushed the
painful thought out of his mind and focused back on Harry. "Any luck?" he asked.

"Nope," Harry said quickly. "This morning, Teddy was asking me what he should be when he grew up. He asked
again what I did and I said I was still figuring it out and I swear, that kid was giving me some serious side-eye."

Hermione laughed. "Crookshanks does the same to me every morning. I can almost hear him thinking, 'Seriously,
human? Staying home again?'"

"Snitches!" Teddy cried as he zoomed over Hermione's legs.

"More than one?" she asked. "Now even I know that's unusual."

"Don't try to look for logic in his games," Harry warned. "It will only drive you mad."

She smiled, then quickly looked away from Harry, back at the clouds above them. "You're not the only one
completely lost, Harry," she said with a sigh.

"I take it the meditation's not going well?" Ron asked. He'd chortled when Hermione first told him about it, but
had since learned it was a suggestion from Harry's mum, as it had been very helpful for the Hermione in the other
world.

"It's a disaster," she said.

"Sorry," Harry said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not at all."

This time, Teddy's shout was timely. "Bludge! Bludge! Owwww!"

Ron sat up quickly, eyes darting around the garden until he spotted Teddy flying near the fence.
"He's fine," Harry said. "I know the difference between the fake 'ows' and the real ones."

Ron nodded and settled back onto the grass.

They were quiet for a few moments, watching the clouds, then Harry announced, "I've narrowed down the house
search to two places across town. Do you two—er—want to see them?"

"I don't know," Hermione said. "I'm pretty busy sitting alone in my flat listening to my stupid thoughts."

"If your thoughts are stupid," Ron cut in, "we're all in trouble."

They laughed, then Ron said, "As I'm the only one here with a job, I reckon we should try to work around my
schedule."

Hermione kicked the side of his leg. "Keep rubbing it in. We're loving that, Ronald."

"I'll find some times and send them over with Hermes," Harry said, trying to cut them off before they started
bickering. "I want your opinion since you'll both be, erm, over a lot."

He winced. Shit. He didn't mean for that to come out like that. He looked over at Ron, who hadn't seemed to catch
the double meaning to his statement. When he looked at Hermione, however, she was watching him, her
expression unreadable. He gave her a small smile and she returned it before focusing back on the sky.

"Is it going to be hard for you to leave this place behind?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm trying to force myself to remember things, you know, and it's, well, easier to do that here. But I need to
let it go. There's remembering and obsessing and I—I'm still looking for that balance."

She nodded knowingly, then lowered her voice and said, "I'm proud of you. And I know it's not just me."

After an awkward amount of silence, Ron lifted his head and saw Harry and Hermione caught up in each other's
stares. It was one of those things they did often without even realizing it. He took a deep, steadying breath as he
placed his head back down, then closed his eyes. Fuck, this sucked. But he had to hope it would get easier. He
reminded himself for the millionth time that they weren't doing this on purpose, that it was better to have figured
this out before his and Hermione's wedding, than after it, and that he loved his friends.

Harry, who was oblivious to Ron's internal struggle, reached out and brushed the back of his hand along
Hermione's arm. "They'd be proud of you too."

Several tears fell down her cheeks and she lifted her arm to wipe them away with her sleeve. "Thanks," she
whispered. "I needed to hear that."

Harry squeezed her hand before taking his arm back and putting it behind his head. He turned to ask Ron if he
had any updates on his family, when Teddy cut in. "Catch the Seeker and WINNNN! All done!"

"Well that's it then," Ron said as he pulled himself up, his voice sounding rougher than normal.

"He caught the Seeker. Everyone knows that's the end of the game," Hermione added, her lips turning up as she
got to her feet and went to congratulate Teddy on his win.

Ron was about to stand when Harry caught his arm. "You okay, mate?"

"Yeah. Or—I will be. I think."

Harry frowned. "Wanna go to the pub tonight? Just us?"

Ron smiled. A genuine smile. He cocked his head toward Hermione, who was currently talking to Teddy as she
helped him off the toy broom. "Yeah. But for now, I reckon we should go and save Teddy from Hermione,
especially if she's trying to discuss Quidditch."
 Harry looked over at Hermione, who frowned slightly when she caught his eye, then back at Ron. "You go. I'll get
a snack ready for Teddy and meet you all inside. Then we can watch a movie."

"Okay."

"Hey," Harry said once Ron had pulled himself to his feet. "Thank you."

Ron blushed. He didn't have to ask what Harry was thanking him for. He knew. He gave Harry a dismissive wave
before going to join Hermione and Teddy.

James's words echoed through Harry's mind as he made his way back to the house. "If he's truly your best mate,
he'll understand. He'll know you didn't do it on purpose and he'll forgive you."

He's an even better mate than I thought, Harry said in his head. He did this often, spoke to his parents in his mind.
He had no idea if it made him mad, but it comforted him, so he kept it up. I wish you could have met him, dad. I
think you would have loved him just as much as you loved Hermione.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Continued thanks to by beta, Lancashire Witch and thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustration!
 Home, Part 5
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

October 2001

Harry was standing outside the gates of Hogwarts, waiting to be let in. He pulled his shoulders up and buried his
face further into the woolen scarf he was wearing. Damn, it was cold up here. He always forgot. It was probably
why one of the first spells the students were taught, after Lumos, was the Warming Charm.

Harry was considering using the charm now. He was weighing the benefits of the heat the spell would provide
with the discomfort of removing his hands from his warm pockets when a familiar, bulky figure appeared on the
path. He smiled into the scarf.

"'Arry!" Hagrid called when he was only a few feet away.

The bitter wind muffled the sound of his booming voice considerably, so Harry made sure to shout when he
replied with, "Hey, Hagrid! Thanks for coming to let me in."

"'Course," he said as he opened the heavy gates. "Anytime."

Harry rushed through the gates, moving quickly to lessen the amount of time spent outdoors. He braced himself
for a bone-crushing hug but it didn't come this time. Hagrid simply gave him a firm pat on the shoulder that made
Harry's knees buckle.

Harry guessed he'd been by so often in the past month, while Hermione had been working on a research project
with Professor Vector, that seeing him was no longer a novelty. Harry watched Hagrid shut the gates, then walked
with him along the path, jogging to keep up with Hagrid's long strides—which Harry didn't mind, as it was
keeping him warm.

"Are you having a good weekend?" Harry asked.

"'Can' complain. You?"

"My weekends are very similar to my weekdays. But it's been good."

Hagrid snorted, then said gruffly, "I don't care what the papers say about yeh. Yeh deserve this. Don't listen to tha'
rubbish."

"Thanks, Hagrid. I don't even read the papers anymore." Which was true. After the mindless dribble they'd
printed while speculating over the reason behind Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione calling off their weddings,
he'd given up on the news altogether. The reporters had accurately guessed the weddings were called off because
Harry and Hermione had fallen for each other, but the printed version of the story was much more sordid than the
real one, and had painted Hermione in a terrible light.

Harry had been so angry, he'd nearly gone out to track down the reporter and curse them. Then, he'd had an idea
to buy the paper and fire everyone who worked there. But even if he combined the small fortune Sirius had left
him with the money in his family's vault, he didn't have enough money to buy the Daily Prophet (he'd checked).

Hermione seemed unaffected by the nasty things the papers were saying about her. She just told Harry to cut off
his subscription, just as she had done, and to refuse to comment, which he was already doing.

But even though Harry wasn't reading the news, he knew everyone else was, and whatever was being printed was
getting mixed responses from the public. Some people glowered at him angrily, some eyed him warily, as if
worried he would explode, some people gave him comforting pats on the back, and then there was his least
favorite: the witches who threw themselves at him.
This was why Harry was staying away from the Wizarding World as much as possible, at least until he decided
what to do next. But Hogwarts was the exception. He could be himself here. The Professors supported him, there
were no reporters or cameras, and the students didn't care about him. They had their own dramas to distract them.

"Yer not goin' ter the library?" Hagrid asked, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. They'd reached the fork in the
path and Harry had started walking toward the left automatically, on his way to the greenhouses.

"Oh, yeah. I will. But I wanted to stop by and talk to Neville. He'd be in the greenhouses, right?"

"Should be."

"Brilliant. I'll see you later, Hagrid. Thanks again for letting me in. Are you going to the Ball?"

Hagrid narrowed his dark eyes at Harry. "Yer goin' to a school ball?"

Harry shrugged. "I thought I'd help with—er—chaperoning. Since, um, I have the time."

"Right." Hagrid clapped his shoulder as he gave Harry a knowing smile. "I'll see you and Hermione at the Ball
tonight." He winked before turning back toward his hut.

Harry shook his head as he made his way toward the greenhouses. All the Professors thought he and Hermione
were involved. They'd obviously taken whatever was being written about them in the papers, coupled with the
fact that Harry had been visiting her almost daily during the past month while she'd been staying at Hogwarts, and
come to the conclusion that there was something going on between them. Unfortunately, they were wrong.

Harry was still desperately in love with Hermione and Hermione still said she needed time. That's all that was
going on between them. Nothing close to the steamy love affair the papers were claiming (or, what he assumed
was in the papers, based on the looks everyone gave them).

Harry had reached the greenhouses and went straight for the one in the back that was used almost exclusively for
advanced study. Once inside, he was immediately engulfed in warmth and stopped to take in a deep breath. He
removed his scarf and coat and tossed them on a nearby table, then made his way to the back of the greenhouse
where Neville was sitting, lost in a large text.

Harry spotted a familiar plant in a pot in front of him and nearly burst into laughter. "The Waltzing Willow!" he
exclaimed.

Neville jumped, then smiled as he pushed the book he was reading to the side. "Hey, Harry. I didn't know you
were coming today."

"Yeah. I'm going to the Halloween Ball tonight."

"With Hermione?"

"No, with Trelawny," Harry said flippantly.

Neville just shrugged. He had no idea what was going on with Harry and Hermione. It was clear they were in
love, but they seemed to be fighting it for some reason. Probably for Ron's benefit. The few times Neville had
hung out with all of them since they'd called off their weddings, the dynamic between the three had been very
different. It seemed like Ron knew something was going on with his two best friends. They also stared at Neville
a lot. An uncomfortable amount, actually.

Luna had several theories about it but none of it added up to Neville. In the end, he figured it wasn't his business
and he was happy for them. He'd always thought Hermione and Harry got on well and had been surprised when
she'd ended up dating Ron at the end of the war. This made more sense. He just hoped they could get over
whatever barriers were in their way sooner rather than later. Life was too short. They'd all learned that the hard
way.
"What were you saying about the Willow?" Neville asked, gesturing toward the plant Harry seemed fixated on.
The tree sprout was waving its arms angrily. Neville had been trying, in vain, to find a way to calm the poor
thing.

"What is this?" Harry asked, ignoring Neville's question.

"It's related to the Whomping Willow," Neville explained. "As you can see, it seems to be angry and I've been
trying to figure out how to calm it, but haven't been able to come up with anything. It's a very rare breed that
seems to have escaped mention in all the texts."

Harry nodded as he pulled his wand out of his robes. "Do you mind if I try something?"

"Go ahead."

Harry muttered something under his breath and a slow, classical tune came out the end of his wand. Neville was
about to tell Harry all the reasons serenading the plant wouldn't work when the sprout started to sway in time with
the music. Harry's face broke into a grin. "Waltzing Willow."

"How did you—? Wha—?"

Harry just continued to grin.

"How did you know to do that?" Neville demanded. "I've been trying to calm this sprout all morning."

Harry simply shrugged. "Just a hunch."

Neville waved for Harry to drop the spell and watched the sprout get agitated again, whipping his arms around
wildly. Neville tried a different song, this time a pop song with more of a beat, and he laughed as the small tree
thumped in time with the music.

"You're brilliant, Harry!" Neville exclaimed.

"Thanks. Maybe I should be a Herbologist."

"We could use more Herbologists in Britain."

Harry waved him away, still smiling as he watched the plant. "I don't have the patience for it."

"No," Neville agreed. "I don't think you do."

When Neville looked back at Harry, he was no longer smiling. He was biting his lip and looking nervous, which
wasn't a typical look for Harry. "What's wrong?" Neville asked.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Okay," Neville replied, disbelievingly. "Are you worried about Hermione? Because she's doing fine."

Harry perked up at that. "Yeah? She's doing better?"

Neville smirked. "I mean, she still hates the uncertainty that comes with upending your life and trying to start
over from scratch… but she's okay."

A tender smile played across Harry's lips. Hermione had not taken to her joblessness well. While Harry was
content to just sit around and wait for inspiration about what to do next to strike, Hermione was determined to go
looking for it. She'd been working odd jobs from volunteering at St. Mungo's, brewing Potions and donating them
to those in need, volunteering her time at several bookshops and libraries across London, and most recently, she'd
been working with Professor Vector on some type of research project.

That's why Harry had been coming to Hogwarts over the past month. To visit her. But today was special. He
wasn't inviting himself over because he was bored and wanted to see her, as was usually the case. She had invited
him.

"She's not good with chaos," Harry said when he saw Neville watching him. "Danger, she has no problem with.
But going up against chaos, especially without a plan, she can't handle that. But this is good for her."

Neville felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment as he watched Harry's expression soften while talking
about Hermione. He moved his gaze to the sprout, who was still dancing.

"I, uh, wanted to ask you something," Harry said.

Neville looked back at Harry and saw him looking nervous again. "Anything. What do you need?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the pub with me and Ron."

"Oh. Sure."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I was thinking it would be, like, more than just the one time. Like once a
week. Just, er, us blokes."

Neville nodded. "Yeah. Sure, Harry." He could tell this was important to him but had no idea why. He wondered
if it was related to the odd looks Harry had been giving him over the past few months. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Good. Thanks."

They watched the plant for a few more moments. Harry was fidgety and Neville guessed he wanted to go find
Hermione, but was trying not to be rude.

"You can go," Neville said, dragging the book he'd abandoned earlier back in front of him. "Thanks for the
breakthrough with this guy. I'm going to see if I can find anything about the effects of music on plants."

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, pulling himself to his feet. "Do Wednesdays work for you? For the pub?"

"Every day works for me," Neville said matter-of-factly, without a hint of shame. "The plants don't change much
in one night."

Harry forced out a laugh. "Okay, then. We'll meet at my place at 7:30?"

"Sounds good."

Harry nodded and made his way back to the door. He picked up his coat and scarf and once he had them back on,
called to Neville, "Are you happy?"

"What?"

"Happy. Like, with your life and—and all this." He motioned around the greenhouse. "You lost a lot in the war,
but you're continuing on. Doing what you love. Is it, er, working?"

Neville had no idea what to say, so just went with the first answer that popped into his head. "Yeah. I think so.
Are you happy?"

Harry dropped that mask he wore for most people and suddenly looked tired and sad. Neville's chest tightened at
the sight of his strong, confident friend looking so uncharacteristically lost. "Yeah," Harry said roughly. "I'm
happy for parts of every day."

Neville had to blink back tears. He knew what it was like to feel down, but to force himself to power through
anyway, focusing on the good things in his life instead of the painful ones. "Is this what the pub is going to be
like?" Neville asked. "Deep thoughts with Harry Potter?"

"Maybe," Harry smirked. "Still want to come?"

"Yeah. I'll see you Wednesday."

Harry nodded and finally opened the door, letting a blast of cold air into the greenhouse. "See you Wednesday,
Neville."

Harry nearly ran back to the castle. If anyone had asked him about it, he would have said it was so he could
escape the cold but in reality, he was desperate to see Hermione. It had been a week since he'd last seen her,
which was the longest they'd been apart since returning from the other world.

After Harry had moved to a new house across town, less than a mile from Hermione's flat (which hadn't factored
into his decision, of course), they'd fallen into the habit of eating breakfast together every morning. Hermione
stopped by his place before running off to whatever job she'd signed up for that day.

They cooked together, which Harry didn't mind. Breakfast food was relatively easy to prepare and honestly, he'd
harvest bubotuber pus if it meant he could see Hermione every day. They'd swap plans for the day, check-in with
each other, and talk about the trip, something they tried to avoid when they were around Ron.

Ron knew about the breakfasts but didn't seem to mind. Or, if he did, he was hiding it really well. Hermione had
claimed breakfast was the least romantic meal two friends could share. Harry disagreed, since breakfast typically
followed a night of shagging, but had kept the thought to himself.

Then, a month ago, when Hermione started the project with Professor Vector, she'd started spending several
nights at Hogwarts. On those days, Harry usually tried to stop by for dinner if he didn't have other plans. This
week had been unlucky. Hermione and Professor Vector had been out of town the first three days of the week,
going to visit some Museum in Prague. Thursday, Harry had Teddy and Friday, he'd been at a Quidditch match
with Ron.

Harry stopped running when he reached the castle, but still moved quickly through the halls as he made his way
to the first floor. The castle was emptier than usual and he guessed most of the students were huddled around the
fireplaces in their Common Rooms on this windy Saturday.

He found Hermione at the back of the Library at her usual table, the same table she'd always used during their
school days. Her curly hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she was wearing a thick jumper and jeans. She
was bent over a pile of parchment and scribbling furiously. Every few seconds, she'd stop to cast a spell that made
a series of numbers appear in the air, count under her breath, then start scribbling again.

"A week is too long," Harry announced, leaning back against the bookshelf.

Her lips curled up, but she kept her eyes on the parchment. "It wasn't a whole week. Just five days. We had dinner
on Sunday."

Harry crossed the room and removed his scarf and coat before lowering himself into the chair in front of her. "I
had to eat breakfast alone for five days."

She finished writing out the line she was working on and looked up at him. "How did you survive?"

"It was hard, but I survived a Killing Curse. Twice."

Her smile brightened. "Yeah. I read that somewhere."

Harry reached out and took her hand. "How are you?"

"Busy."

"Yeah. I see that. You have ink on her neck." He reached out with his other hand and grazed his finger along a
spot of skin under her jaw.

She rubbed at the spot he'd indicated, which just made the smudge of ink larger. "Better?"
"Not at all."

She just shrugged. "I'll get it later."

Harry could tell something was off with her. Her eyes were distant and forlorn. He squeezed her hand. "What's
wrong?"

She frowned, then focused back on him. "It's this project. I love it—I really do—but it's coming to an end next
week. Then, I'm going to be back to searching around for something to do."

"Can you do another research project?" Harry suggested. "Maybe with one of the other professors?"

"I already asked. They won't have anything new until January. And even if there were another one, I couldn't take
it. I need a real job that pays money! I keep thinking that if I try my hand at everything out there, I'll find
something I really like but so far, it's all just… fine. And I'm thinking maybe that's all it ever will be. Maybe I'm
just destined to have a perfectly adequate life that's not bad, but also not particularly great. Just… fine."

"That escalated quickly," Harry murmured.

He felt awful for her, but couldn't think of anything better to say. He knew one of the reasons she was having
trouble finding work was because she'd blackmailed Kingsley to allow them to keep their memories of the trip,
which had cut off her chances of pursuing any jobs at the Ministry.

Just last week, one of the envelopes she'd sent herself that first night they'd arrived back had appeared at her flat,
instructing her to send the attached letter to the Daily Prophet if she didn't have any memory of her trip to another
world with Harry. He had been surprised by the lengths she'd gone to, to protect their memories. Then again, he
wasn't surprised at all. She was incredible.

Harry smiled, but dropped it when he saw Hermione glaring at him, probably sore about his flippant comment.

"I'm sorry. I get it," he said hastily. "But—I think you're trying to move too fast. Just take some time. You never
really took—"

"I did!" she cut in. "I did absolutely nothing for those first two weeks and it was awful. I'm not like you. I can't be
content to just sit around doing nothing."

"Ouch."

"Sorry. And besides, I need money."

She dropped her face into her free hand and started breathing deeply. Harry opened the hand he was holding and
began running his fingers along her palm.

"You know I'll—"

"Don't offer me money," she snapped.

Harry sighed. This part of her predicament was confusing to him. He knew Hermione's parents were well-off and
had given her a small pile of money once she came of age. He also knew Hermione to be a very responsible
person who didn't overspend or live beyond her means. So why didn't she have enough money to sustain herself
for a few months without a job? Every time he broached the subject, however, she bit his head off. So he dropped
it.

"You're going to be okay," he said gently.

She nodded, then dropped her hand from her face. "I think the point of that whole rant was: five days is too long."

Harry's expression broke into a grin. Hermione immediately felt calmer. "You're clearly a mess without me," he
whispered.
"Clearly."

"How was Prague?"

"Good. How were Teddy and Ron?"

"Good."

"Good," she smiled.

"And I, er, talked to Neville. We're going to start meeting at the pub, him, me, and Ron. I want to be better friends
with him and I think he gets lonely here with just the Professors for company."

"That'll be great."

Hermione looked down at their hands. Harry was pressing his fingertips against hers, then dragging them down to
her palm. It felt divine. Her mind drifted back to what Lily had told her in Pacifica.

"If those four pillars: improving her mind, making the world a better place, trying to get enjoyment out of life,
and loving Harry—openly, honestly, and completely, were her driving forces and they felt right to her, why fight
it?"

Maybe Hermione was overthinking it. Maybe she already had the answer. Maybe the other Hermione had already
done the work for her and all she had to do now was let her fear go and lean into it. Lean into him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, drawing her attention back to him. His green eyes were boring into her and her
breath hitched slightly at the sight of him. He was beautiful, too. And he loved her. It was clear by the way he was
watching her. Months later, and his feelings hadn't changed.

"I missed you," she replied.

He smiled and took her hand in both of his, then picked it up and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "You don't
have to have everything figured out, Hermione. Look at my parents. They were twenty years older than us and
still hadn't figured out their jobs."

Hermione nodded and they shared a sad smile, like they always did at the mention of James and Lily. "The other
Harry and Hermione seemed to have things well in hand," she pointed out.

Harry scoffed. "I try to think about them as little as possible. I'd give anything to be able to open a Quidditch shop
and teach people how to fly, but you know what that would turn into."

"The Harry Potter show. I know."

"Exactly."

"There'd probably be a large uptick in the number of young, beautiful witches wanting help with their flying
techniques," she teased.

He snorted, then fixed her with an intense stare. "They'd be wasting their time."

She nodded and tried to pull her hand out of his, but he held it tight. "You know that, right?"

"Yes. I know."

"I don't think you do. I think if you really knew, we'd be together."

She dropped her eyes to the formulas she'd been working on when he'd arrived. He was right. There was still a
niggling doubt in the back of her mind, telling her that Harry's feelings for her would fade. But he hadn't given
her any indication that would happen. Ever since they'd returned, his determination to be with her had been
unwavering. So why couldn't she trust him?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, Harry said gently, "I took you for granted throughout our time at
Hogwarts, then pushed you away for almost a year. I know I'm not going to be able to fix that in just three
months. But I can wait. Just tell me when you're ready."

He gave her her hand back and she raised her eyes to look at him again. "Thank you," she whispered.

He just smiled.

"I would be lost without you, Harry Potter."

"You seem pretty lost with me," he quipped.

She tried to kick him under the table, but he dodged the attack.

"Why didn't we have Halloween Balls?" Harry asked as he moved Hermione around the dance floor, being sure to
keep to the side, out of the way of the students.

Hermione looked stunning in a dark purple dress with a lace neckline and sleeves and an open back. She had her
hair up in a neater bun than the one she'd been wearing in the Library, but several curls had escaped. She was also
wearing a touch of make-up, which accentuated her large eyes. Harry could not stop looking at her and kept
adjusting their position so she was always in his line of sight.

Harry had dressed simply, wearing a pair of black slacks, a light grey shirt, and crisp, black robes. The lack of
color in his clothes seemed to make the emerald of his eyes pop and Hermione was having trouble focusing. She
kept getting lost in his gaze.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering why we didn't have Halloween Balls. Do you know?"

"Oh—uh—yeah. I do." She blushed and averted her eyes, looking up at the floating jack-o-lanterns above their
heads that were being kept company by a swarm of bats. The walls were lined with dancing skeletons and the
band was made up of vampires. "McGonagall told me she started it that first year after the war," she explained.
"By Halloween, everyone was in dire need of a morale boost. And then, it stuck."

"Huh. Well, since you brought up McGonagall, I was going to tell you that I was talking to her in the Entrance
Hall earlier, while I was waiting for you, and she said they had plenty of chaperons for this. She didn't need our
help at all."

"Oh." Hermione averted her gaze again. "That's interesting."

"Yeah. Very interesting," Harry replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It seems like you just wanted an excuse to dance with me," he pressed.

She shrugged. "I like dancing with you. That's not a secret."

He beamed at her.

"Also," she said more seriously, "I thought it would be good for you to have a bit of a distraction. I know
Halloween is hard and this year, well, I was worried it would be especially difficult for you."

Harry moved his hand, which was currently on her side, around to her back. He spread his palm across her bare
skin and pulled her closer. "Is that really why?" he whispered in her ear.
She nodded.

"Damn, you're incredible," he breathed. The feeling of his warm breath on her cheek sent a delicious chill down
her spine. She smiled back at him.

Harry's heart fluttered. He had a beautiful witch in his arms, who seemed just as wrapped up in his presence as he
was in hers. He'd already had to remind himself multiple times tonight that they were in a room surrounded by
people, since it felt like it was just them. He could not imagine a better way to spend Halloween. It was certainly
better than how he usually spent them.

Ever since he'd learned from Sirius that this was the day Voldemort had killed his parents, he'd find a private spot,
go through the photo album he had of them, and think about all he'd missed. It may not have been that hard
tonight, since he pretty much did that daily now, but it was kind of Hermione to think of him. It was just further
proof that she loved him, even though she was hesitant to admit it.

"Halloween's not so bad," he said, reaching out to push a stray curl behind her ear. He traced a finger along her
jaw before pulling his hand back. "It was on Halloween that I battled a troll, which led to me befriending the best
person I've ever known."

She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips, then blushed and dipped her head against his shoulder.
"Sorry."

"You never have to apologize for kissing me. I think we should do it again."

She smiled into his robes as she linked her hands behind his neck. "Maybe later," she said noncommittally.

Harry wanted to nail down a more precise time, since later could mean later tonight, or five years from now, but
he let it go. He didn't want to pressure her. When she returned to a proper dancing stance, putting at least a foot
between them, he started leading them again.

Hermione said she didn't think she'd ever be able to dance without him again without thinking of the trip, which
was bookended by two dances. That festival in France, when she'd had too much to drink, and their last night in
Norway. "Those two dances could not have been more dissimilar," she declared.

"I know," he agreed, "but I loved them both."

"Me too."

Harry felt that familiar pang in his chest as he thought of his parents. What were they doing now? Had they made
up with the other Harry? Did they think of him? "They feel so far away," he said, his voice shaky.

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "They are. But also…not. I can draw them up in an instant. Picture their faces, imagine
exactly what they'd say, hear their laughs. So in a way, they're close."

A tear fell out of the corner of Harry's eye and Hermione swiftly wiped it away. From there, they kept the
conversation light, coming to an unspoken agreement that they'd had enough heavy conversations for one day.
They laughed as they danced to the next two songs, then went to find Hagrid and talked to him for a while about a
new breed of flying horses he was caring for with the help of his Fifth Year classes.

They watched Flitwick breakup two fights and saw McGonagall and Pomfrey comfort three crying witches. "Are
you sure we shouldn't try to help?" Hermione asked when a fourth witch burst into tears a few feet away from
them.

"McGonagall said she didn't need us as chaperons and insisted we enjoy ourselves," Harry countered.

As if on cue, McGonagall appeared and started patting the small blonde witch on the back. "There, there, dear."
She spotted Harry and Hermione and gave them an exasperated look followed by a wink over the witch's
shoulder. Hermione could tell she didn't mind her role as the voice of reason amidst this sea of hormones and was
content to leave McGonagall to it. She pulled Harry back to the dance floor, determined to enjoy herself tonight.
The Ball ended just before curfew, at 10:00 pm, but neither Harry nor Hermione were ready to say goodbye. She
led him back to her quarters, where the Alchemy Professor lived during the years the class was taught. They
spread out on the sofa in front of the fire and played Wizarding Chess. They seemed to be in a competition to
determine who was more awful at the game. The talking pieces were growing more and more agitated with each
round, which just made the whole thing funnier for the two of them.

They gave up after six rounds, calling it a draw. Hermione made a batch of hot chocolate in her small kitchenette
and they sipped on the warm drink as they watched the fire, talking about nothing in that pleasant way only two
people who knew everything about each could. When the clock in the office next to Hermione's room chimed
midnight, Harry rose to his feet and started pulling on the robes he'd removed earlier. "I guess I should go."

"Right at midnight? Are you Cinderella?"

"We had similar upbringings. But my fairy godmother came in the form of a half-giant."

Hermione let out a laugh. "Okay, that was really funny. Also pretty dark."

Harry just smiled. Hermione stood and walked with him through the adjoining office to the hall. "I feel like I
should walk you out," she said once they'd reached the dark hall.

Harry gave her a dismissive wave. "Then you'd have to walk back alone. I'm okay. I'm a fully qualified Auror."

"That sounds a lot better than 'former Auror.'"

"Yeah. And it'll be true for another six months. But once I miss the annual requalification trials, I'll have to refer
to myself as a former Auror."

Hermione bit her lip then said carefully, "I hope you don't need any of that Auror training tomorrow."

Harry let out a long breath. They'd managed to avoid talking about this all day, but he knew it was at the top of
both of their minds. They were going to the Burrow tomorrow. It would be the first time either of them would be
seeing the other Weasleys since their breakups, besides George, who had come over to Harry's for dinner a few
times. Harry didn't know who he was more nervous about seeing, Ginny or her parents.

Hermione looked nervous too and was chewing on her lip, deep in thought. He nudged her with his elbow. "We're
going to be fine."

"You have no idea how it's going to go," she countered.

"True," he admitted, "but I'm pretty sure we're not going to die. So…I'd say we've been through worse."

She gave him a small smile. "Yeah."

Harry could see the apprehension in her eyes and knew she wasn't really concerned for her safety. She was
worried about him. She thought he was going to abandon her in favor of the Weasleys. Push her to the side in
order to salvage a relationship with the only family he'd ever known. But she was wrong and he was determined
to show her that.

He pulled her into a half-hug and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Hermione."

She leaned into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she tried to draw out as much comfort from the
gesture as she could. When she pulled away, there was a hint of longing in her eyes. "Good night, Harry."

November 2001

Hermione was at Harry's house when Ron arrived, which was annoying, but not surprising. And by the looks of
it, she'd been there for a while. They were both sitting on the floor, huddled over a mess of parchment spread out
across the coffee table. There were empty mugs and half-eaten bags of crisps around them and Hermione had
pulled her hair up into a bun, which she always did when she was getting deep into her work and wanted the curls
out of her face.

They hadn't noticed Ron in the doorway, which was why they were probably sitting so close to each other.
Hermione was saying something in a low tone Ron couldn't hear. Harry turned to smile at her and the look in his
eye caused Ron's stomach to lurch. He was regarding Hermione with a look of raw adoration.

His eyes dropped to her shoulder, where her cardigan had fallen down, revealing the strap of her tank top. Ron
half-expected Harry to lean forward and kiss the bare skin of her shoulder but instead, he pulled her cardigan
back in place and gave her a small smile, which seemed more intimate for some reason.

Ron cleared his throat and walked into the room. "What are you working on?"

Harry shifted away from Hermione, who busied herself with the papers in front of her. "Wards," she answered,
grabbing a piece of parchment off the top of her stack and turning to Ron.

"Grimmauld Place was protected by layer upon layer of wards, since it was an ancient house inhabited by
generations of wizards. We're looking into setting up something similar here. It won't be as strong to start, as that
can only be achieved over time, but I believe I found the type of wards they used. They grow in strength as the
Wizarding family in the house grows."

She blushed slightly and turned back to the table. Harry was studying the papers in front of him, pointedly
avoiding Ron's gaze. Ron was pretty sure they were all thinking the same thing. Was the "Wizarding family" that
was meant to grow in this house going to be Harry and Hermione's family?

Ron hadn't missed how eager Harry had been for Hermione to see the house before he bought it or how he'd
purchased a house much bigger than what he needed, so it would be large enough for his family one day. Did
Harry and Hermione talk about this sort of thing when Ron wasn't around? He had barely been able to get
Hermione to look for flats for them to move into together after their wedding, but she had no problem with this.

Fuck, everything hurt.

Hermione, in an effort to diffuse the tension that had settled into the room, pulled Ron's attention to the
calculations she'd been working on. After just three minutes, Ron was bored. A battle began to play out in his
head between what Ron referred to as his mature adult self and his teenage prick self. The adult was looking at
the page and noticing how a lot of that handwriting was Harry's. Which meant he hadn't just tuned out while
Hermione did her thing, like Ron usually did, but participated.

Wasn't this proof he was better for her than Ron? Plus, Ron hated this stuff. He should be relieved they hadn't
called him over. He'd have been asleep on the couch in less than an hour. But the prick was angry. They'd been
meeting without him, again. On today, of all days. And they were setting up wards on their house that would one
day protect their future children. This was fucked up.

And yes, he knew by now that he and Hermione hadn't been a great couple. With distance from the relationship
and time to watch the good couples in his life, his mum and dad, Bill and Fleur, and George and Angelina, he'd
realized that they all had something he and Hermione had never had: mutual respect and understanding. So he
was okay with the breakup. What he wasn't okay with was her choosing Harry fucking Potter, his best mate, as
the person to move on with.

Then again, she hadn't chosen him. Even though they'd broken off their bloody engagements to be with each
other, they weren't. At least, not yet.

Last week, while Ron and Harry were at the pub, Ron had asked Harry why he and Hermione weren't together,
ignoring their unspoken rule to never talk about Hermione. Ron just had to know when this was going to happen,
so he could prepare himself.

"She's not ready," Harry said simply.

"Why not?"
"She doesn't trust that I actually like her."

Ron was snorted. This was one of those moments when Hermione was dense. They were rare, but it happened. It
was clear Harry liked her. Loved her. Was obsessed with her. Just look at the way he stared at her. But Hermione
was insecure and this probably had to do with that. Ron had never managed to make her see how wonderful she
was. Maybe Harry could do that. But if he did manage it, it would just give Ron something else to have mixed
feelings about.

"So you're just … waiting for her to figure out you actually like her?" Ron had asked.

"Yeah."

"How long are you going to wait?"

"As long as it takes," he'd replied. His green eyes were determined and at that moment, he looked like the man
who had killed Voldemort. Ron knew he really meant it and would probably wait years, if he had to. Again,
something else Ron wouldn't do and just one more reason Harry was better for Hermione.

"We can talk about wards later," Hermione said, pulling Ron back to the present. She began stacking the papers
on the table into neat piles, then stood up and turned to face Ron. "Let's focus on the mission. Operation Burrow."

Ron smiled at the familiar terminology. "What are the specs?"

"No spells are to be cast unless for defensive purposes and even then, nothing painful," Hermione said seriously.
"We're to go in, make peace, and try our best to come out unharmed."

"It's not going to be that bad," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione looked unconvinced. They didn't want to go to the Burrow today, he knew that, but Ron was
sick of being in the middle of Harry and Hermione and his family. He wanted them to all get along again. He
wanted to be able to bring his friends to the Burrow on Sundays. But he knew it was never going to get better if
Harry and Hermione continued to avoid all contact with his family. It was probably going to suck, but they had to
power through it, just like the three of them had done.

The only person they really had to be concerned about was Ginny. She had not forgiven Harry and Hermione. Not
even close. She had ridiculed Ron a few times for choosing to forgive his friends, claiming he was putting himself
through unnecessary pain. "For what? So Harry and Hermione can be happy? They don't deserve that."

It was so much more complicated than that, but Ginny hadn't been in a place to listen to Ron try to explain it. The
way he saw it, he'd chosen the easier route. Yes, he had to deal with pangs of jealousy and constant battles in his
head between mature Ron and prick Ron, but at least he got to keep his friends, the two best people he'd ever met.
They loved him and valued him, that much was clear, and he didn't have to carry around that bitterness Ginny had
on her shoulders. It looked heavy.

"Who hates us?" Harry asked Ron.

"Me," Ron replied automatically.

"Yes, we know that, Ronald," Hermione said matter-of-factly, clearly in no mood for jokes. "Who else?"

"Mum and Ginny are the only ones you've got to look out for. Percy is upset you quit your jobs at the Ministry,
but doesn't seem to have any strong opinions on the breakups. Dad is on your side, I think, but won't speak out
against Mum, so he'll be pretty useless to you. You know you've got George and Angelina in your camp, and then
Bill and Fleur will go on the side of reason, which is yours."

"Are you sure Ginny—?" Harry began to ask.

"Yes," Ron cut in. "I talked to her six times. She said she'll be fine. Now come on." He turned toward the hall.
"The more you think about it the worse you're going to build it up in your head."
"Are you sure we shouldn't wait—?" Hermione started to say.

"I'm sure! Come on. We've been up against so much worse than this. And if things go south, just stand behind me
—" Ron winked, "—I'll protect you."

They made it most of the way through dinner before things took a turn, which was better than Harry had been
expecting. They were eating outside, like usual, since they'd surpassed the capacity of the dining table at the
Burrow over a year ago, after all the Weasley children had graduated and started bringing their partners to Sunday
dinner. The table was long and protected by a floating tarp, to keep the cold drizzle off of them, and was
surrounded several Warming Charms.

Harry and Hermione had agreed ahead of time that it would be better if they didn't sit next to each other. So when
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had taken their usual spots at the head of the long table, they'd gravitated toward Mr.
Weasley, each taking the seats on either side of him, so they were facing each other. Ron had taken the chair on
Hermione's other side and Harry was disappointed when Percy sat next to him. It could have been worse, though.
Ginny, who seemed determined to ignore him, had taken a seat at the other end of the table next to her mother.

The conversations on their side of the table had been polite. Harry listened to updates from Percy and Mr.
Weasley about their jobs. Then, he listened to Ron explain the main differences between his work in the Auror
Department and the Magical Law Enforcement team and how much he was enjoying the reduced stress of his
new role.

They talked about Quidditch and the recent events from the Prophet, which were news to Harry. Hermione stayed
quiet and focused on her food. Mr. Weasley, in that polite, good-natured manner of his, tried to draw her into the
conversation by asking how her job search was going. She'd nodded and given him a few sentences about her
recent project with Professor Vector before focusing back on her food.

Mrs. Weasley served pudding, an apple crumble with custard, and an easy silence came over the table as everyone
ate. That's when things began to go wrong. "Ron," Mrs. Weasley said from the other end of the table. Her tone
alone made Harry pause. He placed his fork on his plate and braced himself for whatever she was about to say.

"George was just telling me you have a date this week."

Harry watched Hermione stiffen in her seat. Harry and Hermione already knew this. A few days ago, Ron had
told Harry that he'd asked out one of the witches he'd met on the MLE team and Harry had relayed the news to
Hermione earlier today. He was glad when she seemed unphased by the news. If anything, she was happy,
explaining how she thought it would be easier for Ron if he was the one to move on first.

So, Harry knew it wasn't shock that was making Hermione straighten in her chair and jut her chin out. She was
bracing for a fight. Ron looked upset and was glaring at George, who was whispering something to Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley ignored him and said louder, "It required a lot of courage and strength of character to pick yourself
up and move on, after everything you went through. Having someone you thought a friend, someone you were
ready to marry, break the promise she made to you and—"

"Mum!" Ron cut in.

"I theenk eet required great strength of character for 'ermione to do what she did," Fleur chimed in.

"Agreed," Bill added. "Would you have preferred if she kept her promise to marry Ron while she had feelings for
someone else?"

"I would have preferred if she'd never developed feelings for anyone else," Mrs. Weasley snapped back.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. He looked at Hermione, who was staring determinedly at
her plate. He could tell she was trying to keep her face impassive, but could see her lip quivering slightly. Damn,
he should have sat next to her. To hell with what everyone else thought. He wanted to take her hand and let her
know everything was going to be okay.
Since Harry couldn't do any of that, he did the next best thing. "Mrs. Weasley," he said. The air around them
stilled and everyone turned to face Harry. He blushed, but forced himself to continue speaking.

"It's me you're angry with. Not Hermione. She doesn't deserve this. She noticed some problems with her
relationship with Ron and broke up with him and that's between them but it had nothing to do with me. I'm the
one who fell in love with someone else and called off my wedding. I'm the one who broke a promise. So, it's me
you should be berating. Not her."

Mrs. Weasley's mouth twitched. She seemed at a loss for what to say.

Ron chimed in next. "The way I see it, I'm the one who should be angry with Hermione, since I'm the one who
got dumped." He turned to her and nudged her side. "And, well, I'm not. So, you all shouldn't be either."

"Well said," George added.

Hermione gave Ron a small smile.

"So by that logic," Ginny said coldly, "you should all be angry with Harry, since I still am. So go on, Mum, berate
him like he said."

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth but Harry couldn't tell by her expression if she was going to say something
helpful or not. He never got a chance to find out, since Mr. Weasley finally decided to lend his voice to the
conversation.

"No one's going to berate anyone. It was an unfortunate circumstance but we are determined to move on. Harry is
family—has been since Ron first brought him home. So is Hermione, for that matter. And yes, Ginny, you and
Harry still have things to work through, but that is between you two, not all of us." He ended with a tone of
finality that silenced even Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny stood and threw her napkin on the table before marching into the house. Harry bit his lip and was about to
go after her, but surprisingly, Hermione stood up and went into the house before he could protest. He figured he
would only make things worse by approaching Ginny alongside Hermione, so decided to stay put.

Everyone was quiet, unsure what to say next.

"This is very good," Mr. Weasley announced, taking a large bite of his apple crumble.

"The whole dinner was great, Molly, as always," Angelina added.

Mrs. Weasley just huffed and returned to eating, looking slightly defeated. Harry looked at Ron, who was
watching his mum warily. When it looked like she wasn't going to say anything else, he turned to Harry and gave
him a small shrug that said, "Could have been worse."

Hermione knocked on the open door to Ginny's room, gripping the handle of her wand in her pocket. But that
didn't seem necessary. Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed, facing the window. Her wand was nowhere in
sight. "Go away," she said.

Hermione pulled her hand out of her pocket and walked into the room. "I just came to tell you that I'm sorry,
Ginny."

Ginny kept her back to her and said nothing.

"You've been a really good friend to me and I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry for my role in your break-up."

Ginny snorted, then finally turned to face Hermione. Her eyes were stung with tears, but the look there was more
angry, than sad. "Was it there the whole time? When you were giving me advice about Harry, you liked him?
That's—that's twisted."
Hermione shook her head. "I didn't like him back in school. He was my best friend and I just wanted him to be
happy. And he was happy with you."

"Until he wasn't," Ginny sneered.

Hermione had nothing to say to that.

"I knew there were problems, okay?" Ginny snapped. "But we had the rest of our lives to work on them. The only
issue was—there was his best friend, offering him everything I wasn't. I didn't stand a chance! You never gave me
a chance."

Hermione decided to avoid pointing out the serious flaws in the logic of this argument and stayed quiet.

"I can't continue on like nothing happened. Not like Ron's doing. That just shows you how much more invested I
was in my relationship than he was in his."

Hermione's chest clenched. Now Ginny was just trying to hurt her. She had to bite her tongue to keep from
pointing out how much Ron's determination to forgive her spoke more to his love for Hermione than Ginny's
grudge did.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your family's dinner," Hermione said calmly. "Ron said you were ready but he was
obviously mistaken. I won't come back. Not until you ask me to."

"That will be never," Ginny said harshly, then turned and stared out the window again.

Hermione just sighed. There was nothing left to say. Ginny obviously wasn't in the mood for this. Hermione
returned downstairs to find that dinner was over and everyone had returned to the comfort of the warm house. She
marched past the sitting room, where Mrs. Weasley was talking to Percy and Audrey while she bounced their new
baby in her arms, and went straight to Ron and Harry, who were talking to Bill, Fleur, and Victoire by the door.

Ron patted her back when she reached his side. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine," Hermione said tersely. "I'm going to go. I think I've overstayed my welcome."

Fleur threw an arm around her. "You are weelcome at Sheel Cottage anytime you need a Weezley fix."

"Thanks, Fleur," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Can I get in on that?" Harry asked. "Teddy has been begging to see Victoire."

"Teddy!" Victoire shouted. "Teddy! Teddy!"

"She's obviously on board," Bill laughed. "Just send your owl and we'll work out a time."

Harry nodded, then turned to Hermione. "I can take you home."

"Yes please." She turned to Ron.

"You go on," he said. "I'm going to see if I can do some more—uh—smoothing over." He cocked his head toward
the sitting room, where Mrs. Weasley was still talking to Percy and his wife.

Hermione pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Ron," she murmured in his ear. "Thank you for being so
understanding. I don't think I could have made it through the past few months without your support."

He patted her back as a warm blush crept up his neck. When she pulled away, Ron nodded to Harry and walked
the two of them to the door. He felt a small pang in his chest as he watched them walking together down the path,
leaning in to each other for support. But it was okay, he reminded himself. They'd come to dinner for him, even
though it was the last thing they wanted to do. It was good they had someone to turn to and in the end, didn't Ron
just want them to be happy?
 "What did you and Ginny talk about?" Harry asked once they reached the front gate.

Hermione walked through the gate, then turned to face him. "I apologized but she's still really angry. I don't—"
She sighed and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm worried we'll never be able to be friends again. Not like we were."

"I'm sorry. I hate that I hurt her so badly. I wish I could have figured it out sooner and prevented this."

"I know."

Harry wrapped his arms around her and felt her melt into him. "I am so sorry about everything they said. I was
worried they were going to do that—blame you—and you didn't deserve it."

"Thank you for speaking up for me," she replied, her voice muffled against his chest.

He leaned back so he could see her. "You didn't think I would, did you?"

She just shrugged, then looked up to find him frowning slightly.

Harry cupped her cheek in his hand. "I love you," he said insistently. "You're the most important person in my life
and I'm always going to stick up for you. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to grab your hand under the table. If we're
ever allowed back, we're going to sit beside each other."

"That would have made it worse."

"For them, maybe. But it would have been better for you, and that's all I care about."

She could tell by the look in his eyes he was sincere. And he'd even proven it, just now. He hadn't hesitated to
speak out against Molly, of all people, then hadn't blinked an eye about leaving with Hermione. And now, he was
holding her in his arms, even though they were technically still in sight of the house. He didn't give a damn about
what the Weasleys thought. He just wanted her.

Yeah, genius. He's sincere. And he's even proven it. Are you finally ready to believe him?

No idea.

Well, it's time to figure it out because you've officially run out of excuses.

Chapter End Notes

A/N: We're finally getting a bit of healing. I imagine if we'd been in Ginny's head, we would have heard a lot
of lines from Luna telling her to be nice. Obviously, she didn't listen, but knowing the right things to do/say
and actually doing/saying them are very different things. Ginny still needs time, understandably.
 Home, Part 6
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

December 2001

"Why do we keep doing this to ourselves?" Hermione groaned as she glowered at the wet dough in her hands. It
definitely wasn't supposed to be this sticky. How had she got it wrong again?

"You're the one who insisted we learn how to cook," Ron pointed out, his tone accusing. "I wanted to try out all
the restaurants in the area but you said—" he starting counting on his fingers, "—that we'd gain a stone if we kept
eating out, that it would be good for us to finally master this skill, and that it would be fun."

Hermione turned to Harry and held up the unmanageable dough. "Help."

He smiled and vanished the dough with his wand. Once free, Hermione turned to Ron and said matter-of-factly, "I
don't recall any of that."

Ron snorted. "Let's take a trip into Harry's pensieve then. Because I have the memory right here." Ron tapped the
side of his head.

"I think it was my idea to try a pork pie," Harry cut in. "So I think this disaster of a meal is my fault."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm okay with calling it Harry's fault." She gave him a small wink only he could see.

He brushed his hand against the small of her back before turning to Ron. "Aren't you dating a chef? Maybe she
could teach us a few things."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck as his ears turned red. "Oh. Uh—no more chef."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "What was that? Two dates?"

"Three," he said defensively.

"Much better," she said sardonically, but there wasn't any bite to her tone.

She'd been a little annoyed that Ron had started dating so prolifically, seeming to be with a new witch every other
week, but she knew this was his way of dealing with their break-up. He had always been insecure and Hermione
calling off their wedding certainly hadn't helped with that. So it made sense that he would go looking for
acceptance from other witches. And it wasn't surprising that he'd been so successful.

He was handsome, likable, funny, and still pretty famous from the war. She just hoped it didn't get too out of hand
since it wouldn't be good if he accidentally got someone pregnant. And knowing Ron, he probably wasn't asking
witches to detail out their contraceptive methods before inviting them back to his place.

"Jealous?" Ron asked, nudging her arm.

Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her but kept her head forward. She stuck her tongue out at Ron. "You know
that's not it. Also, I'd like to point out that I was right to call off our wedding. You clearly had some wild oats to
sow."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It's a Muggle farming term. It just means you want to have sex with a lot of people before settling down."
"Oh." Ron just nodded.

"Can we talk about something else?" Harry asked. "Beside Ron's sex life?"

"Yes, please," Hermione said. She looked over at the half-made meal, then back at the boys. "I don't think this is
salvageable. I'll go get us some sandwiches from that deli Ron likes."

"I can go—" Harry began to say.

"It's okay," she said quickly. She was already in the hall when she added, "You two clean up. I'll be right back."

Once the door slammed shut, Ron turned to Harry, who was trying to spell the washcloth into wiping up the mess
of dough and flour Hermione had left on the counter. After the second try with no luck, he just went over and
started wiping the counter by hand.

"Hermione's sort of all over the place today, isn't she?" Ron asked.

Harry just shrugged.

"Do you know why?"

"No idea."

"But you're the Hermione whisperer."

"You dated her for two years," Harry countered.

"The Hermione now isn't the same one I dated."

"Deep, Ron."

"So, you're not going to tell me," Ron said, leaning back against the counter.

"I don't know." Harry picked up another cloth and tossed it at Ron's chest. "She's fine. She just gets like this when
she's working through something. Now can you help me with this?"

Ron caught the washcloth and started washing the dishes in the sink as he told Harry the real story about the chef,
and how he'd had to dump her because on their third date, her ex-boyfriend had shown up at the restaurant they
were eating at and demanded Ron stay away from her.

"How did he find you?" Harry asked.

"He'd put a trace on her necklace."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Did she know?"

"Nope."

"Well, that's illegal."

"Yeah. I know. I mean, it's literally my job to know these things and to bring in blokes like that, but she didn't
want me to. She was defending him and I just left. I didn't want that drama."

Harry hummed. "Would you have won in a duel?"

Ron huffed. "Absolutely. He was a big bloke, but I could tell he was slow. Not worth it though. I want a witch—
well—" He cut off awkwardly.

"What?" Harry pressed.

Ron swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the dishes in the sink as he responded. "The next time I date someone
seriously, I'd want to be sure I'm the only wizard on her mind."

Harry winced. "Yeah. That's fair."

"Plus, I reckon Hermione's right. I'm probably not ready for a serious relationship. And I'm enjoying dating
around, at least for now."

"Sure," Harry replied. At a loss for anything else to say.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"There was another article in Witch Weekly analyzing your tragic dating history."

Harry shook his head as he tossed the washcloth in the sink, then leaned against the counter, crossing his arms
over his chest. "You read that rubbish?"

"The chef told me about it."

"What did it say?"

At this point in the conversation, Hermione re-entered the house, but Harry and Ron didn't hear the click of the
door opening over the sound of the water running in the sink.

"Apparently, because you didn't have your parents growing up and your childhood was tainted by having to
constantly fend off You-Know-Who, you never learned how to love people properly. Ginny wasn't able to teach
you, since she comes from a large, loving family so naturally, your relationship fell apart."

"Naturally," Harry said bitterly. "Well, I guess that explains the uptick in the mail I've been receiving."

Ron finished washing off the last pot, turned off the sink, then turned to Harry. "Still don't read any of it?"

Harry shook his head.

Ron chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to determine to what extent Harry would bite his head off if he said the
thing on his mind. Harry seemed to be in a decent mood, so Ron went for it. "Why don't you date? It's fun. And
yes, I know what you're going to say, but I don't think this Hermione thing is going to happen anytime soon and
—"

"No," Harry said curtly.

"You won't even consider—"

"No," he repeated. "I told her I'd wait for her and that would hardly count as waiting. Plus, it would be pointless. I
know who I want. If I was with some other witch, I'd just be thinking about Hermione the whole time and
comparing the witch to her, and there's no way whoever it was would measure up. It would be a disaster. I'll just
wait."

Ron shook his head. "I just thought you could use some fun. No offense, mate, but you don't really have much of
that in your life, do you?"

"Sure I do. I hang out with Teddy all the time. We go to the pub with Neville every week. I still have breakfast
with Hermione in the morning, and I've been fixing up the house with the rest of my time. I don't need much more
than that."

Hermione chose this moment to walk into the kitchen. "Here you go," she said, placing the bag of food on the
table.
"When did you come in?" Ron asked.

"Just now."

"I didn't hear the door open. Were you just standing out there listening to us talk about you?"

"Yes," she said simply. She knew it wasn't worth lying. Plus, none of what Harry said were things he wouldn't
have said in front of her.

Ron looked at Harry, who seemed unphased. "You don't care that she was spying on us?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not one to talk, am I?" He turned to Hermione. "I meant all of it. I'm committed to waiting
for you. As long as it takes."

She blushed as she took the sandwiches out of the bag and placed them on plates. "Yes, I know."

Ron cringed as he took a seat in front of his sandwich. "This is painful to watch."

Harry snorted, taking the seat next to Ron. "Don't lie. You love it."

Ron chewed most of his way through the giant bite in his mouth before answering. "I do, sort of. But it's getting a
little sad. A part of me wonders if this was just some master plan of yours, Hermione. Stringing Harry along for
so long that I'm actually supportive of you two, desperate to put an end to this agonizing 'will they/won't they'
thing."

Harry let out a laugh. Hermione caught his eye and smiled before turning to Ron. "There's no master plan. I'm not
that manipulative. I'm just not ready to date anyone and when I am, Harry will be the first to know. Anyway, let's
talk about something else."

"Yes, please," Harry said.

"I got a job," Hermione announced.

"Wait, what?" Harry replied, putting his sandwich back on his plate. "When?"

"Today."

"You didn't say anything earlier."

"Yeah, she keeps secrets. Get used to it," Ron cut in. "What's the job?"

"Thanks for that, Ronald," Hermione said brusquely before launching into an explanation of her plan to work for
a private company that manufactured spelled objects that helped make the life of the average wizard easier. "Like
those hats George stocks that make the person invisible for an hour," Hermione explained.

"You're going to work for a company that competes with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Ron asked. "Haven't you
done enough to piss off the Weasleys?"

Hermione kicked him under the table. He winced and leaned down to grab his shin. "Ow."

"They don't compete. They're marketing to completely different clientele. Besides, the whole premise of making
little objects to help wizards with everyday life is absurd. Why don't they just learn the necessary spells
themselves? If this sort of laziness perpetuates across generations, there's a very real possibility that magic could
die out. Or worse, that only a few people would know how to use it, making them dangerously powerful."

"I don't understand," Harry said. "If you don't like the premise of the company, why are you working there?"

"They're starting up a new division that's meant to be more philanthropic. They want to help healers do their jobs
better, arm the Aurors and MLE teams with protective gear that would give them the energy to focus on offensive
spells, that sort of thing. These products wouldn't be made for a profit."
"Why would a company like that make stuff for free?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Tax breaks. Good press. I don't know. But I'm really good at spell manipulation, that's
mostly what I did at the Department of Mysteries, so I think I would be a big help. And I'd learn a ton, like
mixing different types of magic, such as Potions, Spells, and Runes, to make something entirely new. I had only
begun to scratch the surface of that sort of thing. And, yes, when I get sick of working for a money-hungry
company, or if this non-profit section seems like a scam, I'll just leave."

"It sounds dangerous," Harry said.

She smiled and placed a hand on his arm. "It will be nothing compared to the things I did in the Department of
Mysteries."

"I still don't like it," Harry grumbled. "Why don't you just brew potions?"

"Why don't you just teach Quidditch?" she countered.

He stuck his tongue out at her in answer.

They took a break from the conversation to finish off their sandwiches. Ron finished first, of course, then
rummaged around in Harry's pantry until he found a bag of crisps. He poured a giant pile onto his plate and
placed the rest of the bag, which was half empty, at the center of the table.

"Okay," Hermione said, pulling several crisps out of the bag and putting them on her plate. "Christmas is two
weeks away. What are your plans?"

"Same as always," Ron said. "I'll be at the Burrow all day. You two are welcome to come, but, well, with how
dinner went last month—"

"I'll pass," Harry said. "Plus, I already made plans to spend the day with Teddy and Andromeda." He turned to
Hermione. "What about you? You'll be with your parents?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "So my holiday is going to be cold and distant."

Harry grabbed her hand under the table. "Come with me. I promise Christmas with Teddy will be warm and
close."

She smiled while Ron made a fake barfing motion over his plate, which earned him another kick from Hermione.
"I'll be fine. I'm used to it by now. But I thought we could get together for Boxing Day. Maybe make dinner. Or
order something," she amended when she saw the look on Ron's face. "Do you have plans on Boxing Day?"

"No," the boys said at the same time.

"It's a Wednesday, so I didn't know if the Sad Wizards' Club would be meeting. But we can invite Neville if you
want."

Ron scoffed. "You need to stop calling it that."

"I don't mean it in a bad way," Hermione explained, "but that is sort of what it is. Like a little grief support group
you've created. I especially like how you start each meeting by going around and saying—"

Harry clapped a hand over her mouth as Ron said, "You told her?!"

Harry winced apologetically.

"We agreed not to tell anyone else!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry shrugged as he took his hand back. "I didn't think Hermione counted. She knows everything."

"I'll keep the secret, Ron. Weren't you just saying how good I am at that?" she said sharply.
Ron just rolled his eyes.

Harry stood and began clearing their empty plates. "Back to the previous topic, yes, we should invite Neville.
And I'll order food so we don't have to cook."

Ron and Hermione made their way to the sitting room to watch the telly like they always did after dinner. Though
"watch" probably wasn't an accurate word. They picked a Muggle show, the more ridiculous, the better, then
Harry and Hermione took turns explaining things to Ron. They called it "Muggle Studies," though it always
ended up being more entertaining than informative.

When Harry arrived in the room, Hermione was sitting on the sofa next to Ron, holding a wrapped gift.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he took a seat in the chair across from them.

"A gift," she replied.

"Yes, we gathered that, Hermione," Ron replied. "Who is it for? And why now? Christmas is two weeks away."

"I know. But I wanted to give you two your gifts early. I have other gifts I'll send you on Christmas but these—
these are different."

She got up and held the wrapped gift out to Harry.

"I only see one gift," Ron said. "Are you suggesting Harry and I share? Because after growing up with six
siblings, I don't like sharing."

Harry and Hermione weren't paying attention to Ron. Harry was looking down at the small, rectangular gift in
green wrapping. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked hoarsely.

She smiled. "You promised to act surprised."

Harry blinked back tears as he tore the wrapping away to reveal a leather-bound notebook. He opened it to a
random page in the middle and began to read.

We all flew on broomsticks to see the waterfall behind the name "Fall's End." It was breathtaking, shooting up
into the sky out of an ominous mist. I was so overcome by the beauty of the scene that I kissed Harry, right there
on our broomstick. I just wanted to be close to him. Sharing that moment made it feel more real, somehow.

He smiled and moved his eyes to the opposite page.

James and Harry took turns diving off the cliff on their brooms, playing a game of chicken to see who would turn
up away from the mist first. I hated every second of it, but Harry loved it and he won every time. Which didn't
surprise anyone.

"You captured everything," Harry said in awe as he flipped through the pages, stopping to read a few quotes of
James and Lily's that she'd copied down. He laughed when he read:

Lily voted no. James said, "Is this one of those things where if I don't agree with you, I'm going to be paying for it
for the rest of the trip?"

Lily rolled her eyes and said, "James votes yes, he's just too scared to say so." I don't know why, but this
interchange sums the pair up perfectly. Every time I think of it, I smile.

A few tears finally escaped Harry's eyes and he rubbed them away so they wouldn't fall on the pages of the
notebook and smudge the ink. But knowing Hermione, she'd probably cast a protective charm on the pages.

"It took me longer than I thought, but it's all there."

Harry beamed as he looked up at her. She'd clearly worked very hard on this. If Ron hadn't been there, he would
have pulled her onto his lap and thrown his arms around her. Harry's eyes shifted to Ron, who was watching them
with an expression that was a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

"Thank you," Harry said, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "I love it."

"Do you two want me to leave?" Ron asked.

Hermione gave Harry an exasperated smile only he could see, then squeezed his hand before dropping it and
returning to her spot on the sofa next to Ron. "Of course not."

"What was the gift? A collection of love letters or something?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "It's a detailed account of our trip. I was taking notes for most of it and managed to
recreate them in this world. Then I cleaned it all up and, anyway. It's just our trip."

Ron hummed and looked back at Harry, who looked like he hadn't decided if he wanted to smile or cry.

"Are you ready for your gift?" Hermione asked. She looked at Harry, who gave her a nod.

"Of course," Ron replied, sitting up straighter. "Harry knows what it is?"

Hermione nodded. She'd run the idea past Harry first, since she didn't know how he'd feel about sharing some of
the Wonders of the World with Ron, but he'd been supportive.

"Where is it?" Ron asked, looking around the room for a present.

"It's not wrapped or anything," Hermione said. "Just listen."

Ron focused back on her.

"I thought it might be fun if we all took a trip to one of the Wonders of the World. Harry and I know a lot about
them now and I could plan it, figure out any entry requirements, accommodations, Portkeys, and the like. All you
have to do is pick the Wonder you want to see and the date you want to go."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. I mean—if you want to—"

"Of course I do! Those places sounded brilliant! I thought it was your special thing, though."

"It's not," Hermione replied. "You've been incredible these past few months, a better friend than either of us
deserved and we—we'd like to share them with you." She looked over at Harry, who nodded in agreement. "But,
um, only one to start. And not one of the expensive ones, please. At least not until I'm earning a regular salary
again."

"Great. Okay. Um, what are the expensive ones?"

"The Forgotten City and the Hidden Depths."

Ron sat back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. "Okay. That's alright. I already know which one I want to
see first and it's not one of those."

"Which one do you want to see?" Harry asked.

"The Veil."

Harry nodded, unsurprised. "You picked the most depressing one."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Are you two up for it?"

Harry and Hermione locked eyes and a few silent words passed between them before Hermione turned back to
Ron. "Of course. It's your gift. Let me know which weekends work best for you and I'll start planning it."

Ron swore as he focused back on the ceiling. "Am I really going to see Fred?"

"I think so," Hermione said gently. "Keep in mind, Harry and I never approached the Tear in the Veil, so we don't
know exactly how it works, but we know James talked to Sirius. So… yeah."

Ron looked up at Harry. "Who do you think you'll see?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll probably leave it alone again."

He looked at Hermione, who was nodding sadly.

"Oh, shit. I can pick a different one. Or you can just set it up and stay back or—"

"No," Harry said. "We'll all go. Believe me, you'll want the support."

Ron nodded, then laid back on the couch. "Can I bring George?" he asked.

"Of course," Hermione replied, placing a hand on his arm. "Whoever you want."

Ron closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Just the thought of seeing Fred again made him want to curl up into a
ball and cry. He'd be able to talk to him. Hear his laugh… He shoved his palms into his eyes. Harry was right.
He'd need as much support as possible.

"I'm sorry this turned rather depressing," Hermione said after a few moments. "That's why I wanted to give these
gifts out early. So you wouldn't be sad at Christmas."

Ron turned his head toward her. Her eyes were swimming with concern and her hand was still resting on his arm.
"You knew I'd pick the Veil?"

She nodded. "I've already started looking into it."

Ron smiled. "You're brilliant."

She blushed slightly. "Thanks."

Ron took another few breaths, then sat back up on the couch. "Hang on," he said, regarding Hermione, who had
just picked up the remote and was about to turn on the telly.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Why are you so poor?"

"What?"

"You've been so concerned about money lately, but didn't you get an inheritance when your grandparents died a
few years ago?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "It was hardly an inheritance. Plus, that's none of your business, Ronald."

Ron looked at Harry. "What's going on with her?"

"She's right there," Harry said while Hermione said at the same time, "I'm right here."

Ron still eyed Hermione searchingly. She was hiding something. He knew it. But it was clear she wasn't going to
own up to it.

"Are we done? Ready for Muggle Studies?" Hermione asked, cocking her head toward the television.
"One more thing!" Ron exclaimed, remembering something he'd been meaning to ask her about for ages. "The
talk of inheritances reminded me of it. Have you seen my Deluminator?"

She immediately averted her gaze.

"What? Where is it?" he pressed.

Hermione winced and said into her lap, "I lost it."

"Wait. What? How?"

"Well, actually, it's not lost, per se. I know exactly where it is."

"Where?"

Ron looked over at Harry and was surprised to see that he seemed to know where it was. "Where is it?" Ron
asked Harry.

"I'm guessing the Department of Mysteries," Harry supplied, looking to Hermione for confirmation, who nodded.

"Oh, Bollocks. I guess I can't convince you to break in and get it, can I?" he asked Hermione.

She shook her head. "Breaking in when I was in the other world was one thing, since I was about to leave that
time behind. This… Well, let's just say if I get caught, Kingsley would probably throw me out of the country.
Especially after I blackmailed him just a few months ago."

"You blackmailed the Minister for Magic?!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you mad?!"

He looked at Harry who again, seemed unsurprised.

"What's the story?" Ron asked Hermione.

She waved him away and finally turned the telly on. "There's no story. How do you feel about a cooking show
tonight?"

"I'll just have Harry tell me, he obviously knows it," Ron retorted.

Hermione shrugged, then smirked at Harry. "I'm sure he will. We've already proven Harry's dreadful at keeping
secre—"

Harry cut her off by throwing a pillow at her.

Later that night, Hermione was sitting at the desk in her flat, pouring over a pile of notes. She looked around her
to make sure she was alone, more out of habit than necessity, since the wards would alert her to anyone's arrival,
then removed a silver object from her drawer. She clicked it once and the light in the lamp flew into the small
object.

Crookshanks, who'd been watching her, let out a soft mewl in protest. Hermione returned the light bulb and
focused back on her notes. There was still one unanswered question from her trip with Harry. Why had the
Deluminator brought her to that world out of all the worlds it could have chosen?

She'd thrown herself into researching the topic once she'd returned, eager for a distraction from everything else
going on, but she hadn't found the answer. She was missing something. She'd set her notes to the side at the time,
resolved to come back to them with a fresh mind, and Ron's mention of his Deluminator had reminded her that
the mystery remained unsolved.

Hermione already understood the magic behind the Deluminator. It was primarily composed of the fifth elemental
magic, love in this case, with a large amount of air and fire mixed in. She'd also figured out that the love magic
only worked when there was a balance of feelings between the person using this object as the guide and the
person or people they were trying to get to.

She, Harry, and Ron had incorrectly assumed the reason Ron was able to find them during the war was because
they'd spoken his name. There was more to it. By speaking his name, they'd forced themselves to acknowledge
Ron and their feelings for them. And at that point, they'd realized they loved him and missed him and wanted him
there with them. If they hadn't missed him or wanted him there, just speaking his name wouldn't have worked.

However, this two-way love required to activate the magic in the Deluminator was problematic when it came to
using it as a guide to another world where no one would know them. So Hermione had removed it, altering the
spells on the object to balance the magic in a different way. It had been simple, so simple she'd been able to
recreate the alterations in the other world. Now, the object in her hand simply guided the user to the place of
maximum love and happiness.

But the question remained, why had it led her to that world out of all the worlds in the universe? Yes, the war was
over and won and yes, she was with Harry, but she was suffering from an extremely painful injury that could
never be cured and may even impact her ability to safely carry children. Was that really Hermione's ideal world?

She believed that she ended up with Harry in multiple worlds. She also believed that there were several worlds
where they'd won the war. Worlds where she hadn't been seriously injured. So again, why this world? Was it
because of Lily and James? She loved them, of course, but surely, she could have found loving mentors in other
worlds, too? It was almost as if the Deluminator had led her to the world that maximized Harry's love and
happiness, instead of hers.

She'd wondered if that was the case. If the Deluminator had taken into account both of their desires when they'd
traveled together, but that didn't explain why Hermione had ended up in that world when she'd traveled alone,
ahead of her trip with Harry.

Hermione pushed back from her chair and looked at Crookshanks. "It has something to do with Harry. I just don't
know what."

Crookshanks turned around and resettled with a small groan. Then, it clicked.

That world had maximized her and Harry's combined happiness. The war was won, his parents were alive, and
they were together. It was possible that there was just one world where all of that had happened. And yes,
Hermione had sustained a serious injury, but overall, she was happiest there because Harry was. And Lily and
James certainly factored into it. She'd loved them deeply, and that had been after only two weeks of knowing
them.

That was it. That was the answer. Harry was the part of the equation she'd been missing. She recalled what Lily
had told her at Fall's End.

"Every time we've seen a spectacular sight on this trip, he's looked at you, because I think he enjoys them more
through your eyes."

The Deluminator had worked like that, but to a more extreme degree. When she clicked that Deluminator in the
portal, it had considered not just her heart's desire when choosing which world to take her to, but Harry's, too.
Because weren't they one and the same?

Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands as several tears rolled down her cheeks. Now that she'd let
herself think about Lily and James, their words came flooding into her mind.

"He's sincere. Try to forgive him for the past and let him show you the man he is now."

"You help everyone around you. But when it comes to your own happiness, you don't fight. Why is that?"

"Because I'm scared, James," Hermione said out loud. But it was Lily's words that came to her mind next.
Hermione knew exactly how she'd respond if she were here.
"You love people like that, with your whole being. You love Harry like that and maybe you're scared, like I was,
but you shouldn't be. He loves you just as much."

Hermione wiped her tears with the sleeve of her jumper and looked back at the Deluminator. She picked it up and
thought of Harry. When she clicked it again, a blue, pulsing light appeared in the room. She watched it for several
seconds, then it engulfed her body. This had happened a few times already. She knew exactly where she'd end up
if she Disapparated. But before now, she hadn't had the courage. She'd allowed doubt and fear to cloud her mind.

"Just live, Hermione, okay? The fighting is over, you won, and now it's time to live."

"Live," she repeated looking down at the light pulsing near her heart. But it wasn't any of James or Lily's words
that ultimately made her stand up out of the chair. It was Harry's.

"I think you're supposed to end up with me. And I plan to wait for you for as long as you need."

"No matter what happens between us, we'll always be like this. Friends, above all else. I can't lose this. I can't
lose you."

"Friends. No matter what happens," Hermione breathed, standing up. But still, she hesitated, gripping her wand
hard in one hand and the Deluminator in the other. In the end, it was her own voice that gave her the final push.

You're not going to lose him! But if you keep waffling, you may miss your chance to be with him and we both
know you've wanted that for longer than you're willing to admit! Stop being a coward and Disapparate.

She closed her eyes, turned on her toe, and blinked out of sight.

Harry had just put on his pajama bottoms and was about to climb into bed, ready to read the journal Hermione
had given him earlier when two things happened simultaneously. He felt the flutter of the wards and the doorbell
chimed. His eyes flashed to the clock. There were only five people who could get into his wards: Hermione, Ron,
Andromeda, Neville, and Luna. Which of them would be calling this late?

Harry pocketed his wand, then went to the dresser and grabbed a t-shirt before going downstairs to answer the
door. He pulled the shirt over his head as he descended the stairs. He straightened his glasses and tapped his
wand, to confirm it was close, before opening the door.

It was Hermione.

She was wearing the same deep blue jumper she'd been wearing at dinner but had traded her jeans for a pair of
grey joggers. She was holding Ron's Deluminator in one hand and her wand in the other. Harry could tell she'd
been crying and she looked scared. "What happened?" he said urgently, pulling her into the house by her elbow.
He looked around the street but nothing seemed amiss, so he closed the door and turned back to Hermione.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

She looked down at the Deluminator in her hand, then up at him. "I love you."

Out of all the things he'd been expecting her to say, that wasn't it.

"I love you," she repeated. "Because you also smile in your sleep. Because you tell dark jokes, are terrible at
Chess, are not terrible at cooking, but pretend to be because you hate it, and because the easiest way to pull you
out of a dark mood is to put Teddy on your lap and get him to laugh."

"Bloody hell," Harry whispered. Was this actually happening? He'd dreamed about this so many times it was hard
to figure out if this was just another fantasy. There was one way to find out.

"I love you because—oomph." He cut her off with a kiss.

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and placed the other behind her head, entangling his fingers in her curls.
She wrapped her arms behind his neck, still gripping the Deluminator and her wand in her hands, then opened her
lips, inviting him in.

Harry pushed his tongue into her mouth. His heart thumped hard when she met him, sliding her tongue against his
before pulling back slightly and kissing her way along his bottom lip. When she pulled his lip between her teeth,
he let out a small groan. Fuck, this was real. None of his fantasies had been this good.

She leaned back and smirked at him. "You cut me off. I had more reasons."

Harry pressed a soft kiss on her lips, then kissed a path along her jawline to her neck. "You can tell me the rest
later," he said as he peppered kisses along her neck.

Hermione replied with a contented sigh. She tilted her head up and focused on the feeling of Harry devouring her
neck. The scratching of his stubble against her skin coupled with the softness of his lips was sending delicious
chills through her body. She felt that familiar heat between her legs, one that had been building for months, She
couldn't wait any longer. She needed more.

Hermione moved her wand and the Deluminator into the same hand, then used her other hand to grab Harry's chin
and tilt his face up. Her breath caught as their eyes met and she saw the look of desire there. He'd never looked at
her like that. "Are you okay?" he whispered, concern pushing a bit of the lust out of his eyes.

She gave him a quick kiss. "Let's go upstairs."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He pulled her into another kiss as he walked backward to the stairs. They
slowly made their way up, Harry never releasing his firm grip on her.

"This would probably be easier if we took a break from kissing," Hermione pointed out when they were halfway
up the staircase.

"Probably," he murmured against her lips, but made no moves to break away. Instead, he pulled her tighter against
him, pressing his hips into hers. She could feel his erection and let out a small moan, then started kissing him
harder.

Once they finally stumbled into his bedroom, Hermione placed the items she was holding on the dresser. She
turned back to Harry and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt. He winced. "Damn. Why are your hands so cold?"

"They're always cold," she said as she pulled his shirt up over his head. "Something for you to get used to."

He smiled at that.

She took his glasses off next, which made both of them laugh, and placed them on the dresser. Then she started
running her hands along his chest.

"Too cold?" she asked.

He shook his head as he fixed her with an intense stare. "I'll live."

Hermione pushed him back a few feet so he was pressed against the wall. She kissed one side of his neck, then
the other, before whispering in his ear, "I love you."

"I know. Did it really take you this long to figure it out?"

She moved her hands up to his neck and began playing with his hair. "No. I figured it out in Norway."

He frowned. "You were supposed to tell me as soon as you knew."

"I did. You were asleep."

He let out a breath of a laugh, then reached out and cupped her face in his hand. "You really do like to
overcomplicate things, don't you?"
Hermione responded with a shy smile. Her heart raced as she took him in. This was her Harry, the one she'd been
desperately in love with for years without realizing. She traced the oval scar the locket had left over his heart.
Then, the one from Nagini's bite on his forearm, which she'd never been able to fully heal.

She'd told herself in the other world that his feelings weren't real. That he wasn't real. She focused on the slight
differences in his appearance every time he told her he loved her. But here he was, back in his own body, months
after the trip, still wanting her. She placed a palm over his heart and kissed him deeply, pushing him into the wall.

Harry kissed her fiercely as he gently trailed his hands down her side, stopping at the bottom of her jumper. He
moved his fingers along the hem in question. Hermione answered by pulling the jumper off in one motion and
tossing it to the side. She pressed against him, pulling him close by the shoulders and relishing the feel of his
warm skin against hers as they continued to kiss passionately.

After a few more moments, Hermione decided enough was enough, then pulled down her joggers and stepped out
of them. Harry smiled at her look of impatience. He ran his thumb under the strap of her bra and was thrilled
when she removed that too. His eyes flicked down to her breasts, then back to her face, where she was wearing a
look that seemed to say, "Your move."

Fuck. He'd been trying to move slowly, to give her time to change her mind, just in case. But she'd made it clear
she wanted this. Warmth radiated through his entire body, settling between his legs, but he tried to ignore it and
focus on her. He pulled her against his chest then turned them so she was the one against the wall.

She let out a small cry of surprise that he quickly silenced by placing his mouth over hers. He cupped one of her
breasts in his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over her nipple, causing her to moan into his mouth. He pressed
his hips into her and groaned when she responded by stroking him through his pajama bottoms. Fuck, he wasn't
going to last if she kept that up.

In an effort to distract her, he tilted his head down and started running a tongue around her nipple. She gasped and
slammed her head back against the wall. As Harry gently sucked on her breasts, he began feathering his fingers
over the top of her knickers. After several moments of this, Hermione pushed him back by his shoulders and said
roughly, "Take the bloody things off."

"You're really impatient," he smirked, looping his fingers through the elastic around her hips.

"And you're a tease."

"Says the witch who made us wait four and a half months for this," he quipped as he slowly lowered her knickers.
Once she'd stepped out of them, he returned to kissing her neck as he moved a hand between her legs. Fuck, she
was already so wet.

He slipped a finger inside her. She let out a low moan. Harry moved his thumb to her clit and began rubbing
circles over the bundle of nerves. He grinned when he heard her breath catch in her throat. He placed a final kiss
on her neck before leaning back so he could see her. She had her eyes closed and was biting her lip. Damn, she
was gorgeous. There was a thin sheen of sweat along her brow, her cheeks were flushed, and a few curls had
escaped her bun and were framing her face. She loved watching her unravel under his touch.

He hooked the finger that was inside her and watched her eyes shoot open. "Harry," she gasped, almost pleading.
He slipped a second finger inside her. She gripped his shoulders harder, digging her nails into his skin, and
squeezed her eyes shut again.

"I'm—uh—on the Potion," she forced out as he pumped his fingers inside her.

"Oh, right. Okay."

"Okay," she smiled, then began moving her hips in time with his hand as he returned to kissing her breasts.

Hermione bit hard on her lip to keep from crying out. The way Harry was sucking on her breasts coupled with
what he was doing with his hand, it was perfect. She could feel that wonderful tension building and tried to stave
it off as waves of pleasure rippled through her. But it was too much.
"Harry," she groaned, reaching down to stroke him again through his trousers, so he'd know what she was asking
for. "Please."

He released her nipple with a small pop, then looked up to find her regarding him with a look of want and need
that mirrored his. His heart pounded harder in his chest. Fuck, he wanted this. He wanted to pull his hand away
and thrust into her, but employed every ounce of his restraint to stay in place. "Are you sure?" he asked, slowing
the movement of his fingers. "We can do this and wait for—"

Hermione reached into his pajama bottoms and wrapped her hand around his cock. "Fuck," he hissed.

She kissed his neck as she ran her fist up and down, causing him to pull his fingers out of her and slam his palms
against the wall to keep from falling as his knees buckled. She let out a low chuckle, which was so fucking hot,
that he almost finished right there in her hand. Damn, that would be embarrassing, but it had been months. Fuck,
he needed to get her on the bed.

Her mind was in the same place. She kissed the spot under his ear, then pulled his earlobe between her teeth,
eliciting a loan moan from the back of his throat. "Shall we move to the bed?"

He let out a strangled sort of groan that he would have been embarrassed about, had he not been completely
consumed by Hermione. Her warm breath on his neck, the feeling of her hair tickling his cheek, the slick feeling
of their sweaty bodies pressed together, her firm grip on his cock. She was here. He reveled in it, her obvious
desire for him, and could think of little else.

Hermione placed a hand behind Harry's neck as she continued to caress him. He kissed her hungrily as he cupped
her bum and walked them back to the bed. When his legs collided with the mattress, he turned them and gently
pressed her back on the bed.

She shifted to the top of the bed as her eyes locked with his. Warmth pooled in her stomach. She would never tire
of that look of raw adoration in his eyes. Like he couldn't believe his luck at getting to be with her. He'd picked
her. The thought rang through her body. Even though he could have any witch he wanted, he'd picked her.

He was on her the next moment. She reached down and noticed he was finally naked. When had he removed the
rest of his clothes? She'd missed that. She'd wanted to study him. Oh well, there'd be plenty of time for that later.
She reached for his cock again and guided it toward her core.

Harry lifted on his hands and gave her a final questioning look. Once she nodded, he lowered down, his pace
agonizingly slow.

"Bloody hell," he groaned once he was completely inside her.

They paused for a moment to watch each other. A knowing look passed between them. This was the end of their
friendship as they knew it. But not in a bad way. It was the end of lying to themselves, of ignoring their feelings,
of letting fear drive their actions. And it was the beginning of something so much better. The beginning of them.

Harry felt like he was back at Fall's End, diving off that cliff on his broom. It was terrifying. There was a chance
he'd miss his mark and wouldn't exit the dive in time. But the ride was exhilarating so even if he didn't make it,
maybe the jump was worth it.

He lifted slowly, until he was almost out of her, then pushed back into her, burying himself even deeper than
before. She gasped and he almost apologized for thrusting so hard, until he noted the smile she was wearing.

He hoped she was close—he was pretty sure she was—because it would be a miracle if he lasted more than five
seconds. She felt incredible. This was right, he could feel it in his core. The way they fit together, the way when
his eyes met hers, he could see every emotion he was feeling reflected there, the way she clung to him just as
desperately as he clung to her.

"I love you," she breathed in his ear.

Harry's heart swelled. He kissed her neck, then lifted up and began thrusting into her. She gripped his shoulders
but as he moved a hand down and stroking her clit. She gasped again and reached up to tangle her hands in the
sheets. Harry bent his head down, giving attention to her breasts and neck.

"Harry," she bit out between a string of incoherent moans. He quickened his thrusts as he rubbed her harder with
his finger. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels in his back. She fell apart underneath him,
finishing with a jolt and a muffled cry into his shoulder. He lifted so he could see her as he continued to push into
her, smiling at the obvious look of pleasure on her face as she shuddered beneath him.

"Okay, okay," she said breathlessly, pulling his hand away from her overly-sensitive clit. She bit his shoulder and
let out a small laugh. "Wow."

Harry lifted up and cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb along her cheek. She looked divine, her
features smooth and calm while her skin was flushed. Her eyes were dark and her lips looked fuller than normal,
begging to be kissed. So he did. He kissed her as he pushed into her again. She rocked her hips in time with his,
gripping his bum firmly, and it wasn't long until he found his release, groaning into her mouth as he came.

He nearly collapsed onto her, but rolled onto his side instead, pulling her hard into his chest. "Holy shit," he said
as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. "That was incredible. Did that really happen?"

She let out a laugh and placed a soft kiss on his chest. "Yes."

They lay there for several minutes, breathing heavily. Hermione shifted slightly and Harry just tightened his grip
on her, worried if he let her go, she'd leave and this whole thing would be erased.

"We should get cleaned off," she whispered.

"No," Harry protested, giving her neck a playful bite.

She squirmed in his grasp. "We're sweaty and gross and I need to use the loo. Can you please let go of me?"

Harry reluctantly released his grip on her. "Promise to come back?"

She pulled herself to a sitting position, then gave him a breathtaking smile, one he was sure he'd never forget.
"I'm not going anywhere."
When Harry awoke several hours later, he thought for a bizarre moment that he was back in the other world, in
the bedroom he'd shared with Hermione. That was the only explanation for her being here, in bed with him, in his
arms. She was lying on her side, facing away from him and he had an arm wrapped around her waist. But
something was off. She was naked. The sheet had gathered at her waist and he could see the skin of her exposed
back. He looked down. Shit. He was naked.

Then, the events of the night before came flooding back to him. Bloody hell. That had actually happened. He'd
had sex with Hermione, hadn't he? The fact that she was here, lying naked in his bed, was proof enough.

He shifted closer to her, being careful not to move the arm around her waist. He listened to her steady breathing
as he marveled at the elegant curve of her neck. He wanted to memorize it. He wanted to memorize every contour
of her body, every freckle, every scar. And now, he was finally going to get the chance.

He spotted a small freckle at the base of her neck and placed a soft kiss there. She let out a quiet moan. He
wanted to kiss her again, but was afraid of waking her up. It was too late for that, however. Hermione gripped the
hand that was resting on her belly, then turned and gave him a sleepy smile. "Hi."

He kissed her cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep.

"S'kay," she sighed, letting her eyes fall closed again. After a few moments, she turned her head to face him, then
placed a hand on his cheek. "I love you."

He turned his head and kissed the inside of her palm. "I love you too."

"That reminds me. I had a whole list of reasons I loved you. But you cut me off."

Harry laid back on his pillow and pulled her into his arms. "Why don't you tell me now?"

She nodded into his chest as she wrapped an arm around his torso. "Okay," she said, still sounding tired. "I love
how you are with Teddy. I love all the shades of green in your eyes. I love how you commit to things so fully,
especially when that thing is me." She paused as she tried to remember the rest of her list.

"I love having sex with you," she continued, "even if you are a bit of a tease."

Harry smiled down at her. "That was on your list?"

She smiled against his skin. "It is now."

He laughed and she felt it rumble in his chest. He began playing with her hair, which had mostly fallen out of her
bun. "You knew back in Norway?"

She nodded.

"And you said you told me when I was asleep?"

"Yes. Then I told Lily. So she knew before we left. They both did. James talked to me about it when we danced
together."

She lifted her head and saw his eyes sparkling with tears in the low light of the moon coming through the
curtains. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thank you for telling them."

"I thought you'd want them to know."

Harry tightened his grip on her. She knew him so well. He couldn't fathom it. Was this really happening? Was she
really his?

She began tracing patterns across his stomach as they lay there, each lost in their thoughts. "That feels
incredible," he sighed, closing his eyes.

She simply hummed.

 "So is that all the secrets?" he asked next.

She traced a few more patterns on his skin before answering. "I have another. Or well, not a secret. Just a
discovery. I figured out why we ended up in that other world."

Harry lifted up to look at her. "Is that why you had the Deluminator?"

"Yeah."

She explained what she'd figured out back in her flat about how her happiness was tied to Harry's, and how the
realization had finally pushed her to set her fears aside and confront her feelings for him, leading her here.

He reached out for her, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "That goes both ways. My happiness is
completely entwined with yours."

She smiled.

Harry grabbed her chin and tilted her face up, then placed a firm kiss on her lips. "That other world was
incredible, and I miss my parents every day, but this one isn't so bad. We can be happy here, don't you think?"

She shifted so she was lying on her side again, facing him. "I think so," she said softly. "I hope so. As long as we
stay together."

Harry could hear a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Absolutely," he said, moving so he was on top of her,
pressing her into the mattress. "You're stuck with me now."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his thick hair. "That better be a promise," she said
before pulling him down into a kiss.

"It is," he said against her mouth. They kissed for several moments until Harry's earlier grogginess was
completely gone, replaced by a racing heart and that familiar heat pooling in his stomach.

"Shall we sleep?" Hermione asked, her warm breath tickling his cheek.

"Probably," he replied, rolling off of her, then pulling her so her back was against his chest. He pushed her hair
out of the way and began peppering kisses along her neck. Her breath was coming out in small pants, which
encouraged him to feather his hand down her side, then between her legs.

When she didn't push him away, he slipped a finger inside her. She was warm and wet. Harry grinned against her
neck. "Can I convince you to take the day off work tomorrow?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We could
sleep for as long as we want, which would give us time now to … not sleep."

She wiggled her bum against his cock, which was already half-hard. "My new job doesn't start until Monday. So
tomorrow, I'm all yours."

"You're only mine tomorrow?" he asked before nibbling on her earlobe.

"No." She bit her lip to stifle a groan as he started sucking on her neck. "Every day, always, forever."

He turned her head and kissed her hard on the mouth. "That better be a promise."

"It is."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: Yay! About time! I hope you enjoyed how they finally came together. This ends the Home part of the
story, which was so unbelievably hard for me to write. I think I got into a great groove writing Lily, James,
Harry, Hermione, and the Wonders and this was SO DIFFERENT. But you all were extremely supportive so
thanks for helping me get through all that drama and now, on to happier times!

Thanks to @quinsomnia for the illustrations!

 Epilogue, Part 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The Tear

April 2002

"It looks like they're moving," Ron said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry replied, struggling to get the word out through the lump in his throat. The pillars in the room were
just as he remembered, haphazard in their placement and tilted in all different directions, making them look like
they were swaying, just as Ron had said.

Hermione, who was tucked under his arm, nestled further into his side as Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "You
okay, mate?"

Harry nodded. "Okay," didn't cover it, but he didn't think any words would be able to describe the torrent of
feelings inside him. The weight on his heart that appeared every time he turned and expected to see his parents,
then remembered they were gone. The way the hairs on his arms stood on end at the intense familiarity of the
whole place, which was eerie and comforting all at once. The cold longing in his chest as he remembered them,
coupled with the warmth that spread through him as he thought of them remembering him.

He looked down and saw Hermione watching him. Her brown eyes were warm but also lined with tears. She
knew, he could tell. Even though he couldn't put it into words, and would probably never be able to explain it
properly to Ron, Hermione knew. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Ron averted his gaze, focusing back on the dark archway in front of them. "Shall we?" he asked once he saw
Harry and Hermione looking back at him.

They nodded.

"What's on the other side?"

"It's impossible to describe," Harry replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I would say the room we're about to enter is both the most uplifting and depressing place I've ever visited,"
Hermione supplied.

"Helpful," Ron said as he turned back toward the archway. He took a breath before stepping into the darkness.

Harry and Hermione waited before following Ron. Harry could feel the irritation of the people behind them in
queue, who didn't realize there was just another queue on the other side, but he needed a moment.

Hermione lifted up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You've got this, Harry."

He squeezed her against his side. "How are you doing?"

"Good."

"Really?"

"Well, no," she allowed. "But not bad. I'm okay. Really."
He smiled, understanding that she was struggling just as much as he was to describe how she was feeling. "Okay
then. I guess we should go."

They stepped through the archway and reappeared in a large, bright tunnel that was glittering with glass memory
tiles. Harry felt a pang in his chest as the brief glimmer of hope that his parents would be on the other side
flickered out, just as fast as it had appeared. It wasn't his parents standing in the tunnels, but the Weasleys. All of
them. Well, almost all of them.

The only Weasleys missing were Fleur, who was back at Shell Cottage with Victoire, and little Molly, Percy and
Audrey's baby, who they'd left with Audrey's parents. Everyone else was here, standing in the sparkling tunnel
and looking at Harry and Hermione expectantly.

As soon as word got out that Ron and George were planning to visit Fred through a Tear in the Veil, everyone in
the Weasley family began inviting themselves on the trip. Charlie had taken a Portkey straight from Romania to
join them and even Ginny had put her grudge against Harry and Hermione aside to come along.

Harry had gone to visit her last week, just to be sure she knew what to expect from the trip. She was living in a
flat in Hermione's old building, which was ironic, since the whole time Ginny had been living with Harry at
Grimmauld Place, she'd been lying to Mrs. Weasley, claiming she was living with Hermione in her flat. And now,
she really did live in that building. Luckily, Ginny had moved in after Hermione had gone to live with Harry, so
they didn't have to run into her.

The conversation with Ginny had been awkward, to say the least. It was the first time they'd spoken since that
disastrous dinner at the Burrow, and the first time they'd been alone together since their breakup. He'd explained
that he was with Hermione and that on the trip to Egypt, he wasn't planning to hide that fact. It would be an
emotional trip for both he and Hermione and, honestly, anyone who decided to go, and he expected he'd be
leaning on Hermione for support both literally and figuratively.

He explained he wouldn't be doing it to rub the relationship in Ginny's face or make her feel bad, but said that he
wasn't going to push Hermione away and pretend they weren't together just to make Ginny feel better, either. He'd
finished by saying Ginny was welcome to come and that he thought she'd get a lot out of talking to Fred.

She'd listened quietly through his whole spiel and by the end, silent tears were streaming down her face. "I can
handle it," she said. "I would put up with much worse than that to see Fred again."

Harry had nodded and taken her continued silence as an invitation to leave. When he was at the door with his
hand on the knob she said, "Thank you for—warning me. And I—I understand that you wouldn't rub it in on
purpose. That's not you, is it? Or her, for that matter."

It was the most civil thing she'd said to him since their breakup. Even though it looked like it had pained her to
say it, he'd taken it as a good sign. Maybe one day they could get past this.

And so far, Ginny had been fine. All the Weasleys had been fine, even Molly. They'd accepted Hermione as the
leader of the trip without complaint, though Harry guessed the deft way she'd guided them to the Sphinx,
followed by the no-nonsense debrief she'd given the group about what to expect inside, along with pointers about
how to get past the Sphinx, had helped her gain their respect.

This time, as in the other world, the Sphinx had only stopped Harry and Hermione, making them solve a riddle
each before letting them inside. Harry was beginning to suspect the Sphinx stopped anyone who wasn't sure about
visiting the Tear in the Veil. Or, in his and Hermione's case, people who had no intention of visiting it.

In response to a question from Arthur, Hermione had launched into an explanation about the memory tiles and
how to make one, which pulled Harry's attention out of his thoughts and back to the sparkling room, where ten
Weasleys were facing him and Hermione. After Hermione finished speaking and everyone dispersed, busying
themselves with placing memories on the empty glass tiles, Harry kissed her on the side of her head.

"You're incredible," he whispered.

She beamed up at him, then cocked her head toward the rest of the group, who were distracted by the memory
tiles. "Do you want to make some?"

Harry nodded as he pulled his wand out of his pocket. "I was thinking we could put those memories we made in
the other world here. The one of the Order and—er—Dumbledore—" his voice caught on the name. "Since, erm,
they were erased with that time travel we did, right?"

"Not technically erased. They exist on that small loop we created, but I know what you mean. It's a good idea."
She stepped out of his grasp so she could remove her wand from her jacket. Harry immediately felt empty
without her tucked under his arm.

Hermione recreated the memory from Grimmauld Place, putting it in a tile near the bottom, just as she had in the
other world. Harry's chest clenched as he heard Sirius and Lupin laugh together at something Moody had said,
which by the stern look on his scarred face, hadn't been meant as a joke. Harry blinked quickly, then swallowed
hard before touching his wand to a tile above his head, where he put the memory of Dumbledore.

"We need to make one for your parents, now," Hermione said softly.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. That was his plan all along. He'd been thinking of which memory to go
with during their walk through the other room and had finally landed on the one of James and Lily acting like
children at Giant's Gulch, when James had made Lily jump off the cliff against her will.

He crouched down and placed the memory of his parents splashing around in the water right next to the memory
Hermione had made with Sirius in it. Harry watched the memory through twice before pulling his gaze away. He
was about to stand up when Hermione caught his arm, forcing him to stay crouched down. He watched her tap the
glass to the right of the tile he'd made and after a few seconds, the image of his parents in the Department of
Mysteries appeared.

Lily was standing at the end of the hall of mirrors, laughing at her reflection. "Oh, dear! I look just like my Great
Grandmum."

James joined her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well, that is a very good-looking old couple." She
laughed, then kissed his cheek.

"Now they can grow old together in this world, too," Hermione explained.

Tears welled in Harry's eyes as he saw the older version of his parents reflected in the mirror. He remembered
feeling a pang of sorrow at the thought that they'd never have the chance to age together in this world but now
that he was back here, so far away from the other Lily and James, that truth hit him so much harder. But this—this
was brilliant. One image of his parents behaving like children, simply enjoying life, and another of them growing
old together, even if it was just a trick of the enchanted mirrors.

"It's perfect," Harry replied in a shaky whisper.

She reached forward and wiped away the tears that had collected on his lower lashes with her thumb. He saw that
she looked on the verge of tears too. "Are you sure you don't want to see them today?" she whispered as he
helped her up.

Harry shook his head. "If I knew I'd just see Sirius today, or Lupin, I'd do it. I'd go to the Veil. But I—I can't see
them, Hermione. I—I can't—" His voice cracked.

"I know," she said soothingly. "I know, Harry. I just wanted to make sure. Believe me, I understand. You don't
have to explain."

Harry placed his hands on either side of her face before kissing her softly. As their lips touched, he felt a few of
her tears fall onto his hands.

Several feet away, Ginny watched them. Something turned in her stomach at the sight of Harry and Hermione
kissing. Hearing about it was one thing but seeing it was something else entirely. The odd thing was, she couldn't
even be angry about it. Harry looked broken, they both did, and it was clear this display of affection wasn't for
show, or pleasure, or… anything like that. It was just as Ron had told her a few days ago.

"Wait until you see them together. It's strange how well they fit together, like each one is exactly what the other
needs. Makes me feel stupid for not realizing it earlier. It also makes it hard to hate them since they're so clearly
supposed to be together. You'll see."

Ginny bit her lip and looked back at the glass tile she'd created. It was a memory from the summer before she'd
started at Hogwarts. She and Fred had spent the day flying while the others had been stuck helping their mum
with the garden. She didn't remember how she and Fred had escaped the chore, but was sure he'd been the
mastermind behind the coup. It was one of the only memories she had of the two of them alone together.

She took a deep breath as she braced herself for what was to come. They'd decided to visit the Tear in the Veil in
pairs. Her parents would go first, followed by George and Angelina, Percy and Audrey, Ginny and Ron, Charlie
and Bill, and finally, Harry and Hermione. Ginny was glad she was going with Ron. He knew what she was going
through better than anyone and would understand if she dissolved into a mess of tears at the sight of Fred.

A strong arm wrapped around her. She turned to find Bill looking down at her. "Hi," she breathed.

"Proud of you, Gin. I know this is hard for you." He cocked his head toward Harry and Hermione, who were no
longer kissing, but were still clinging to each other like their lives depended on it.

Hermione noticed Ginny watching her and gave her a curt nod in acknowledgment. She was clearly trying to
seem detached, but Ginny knew Hermione well enough to know it was a defense mechanism. She was barely
holding it together, like everyone else. She may even be worse off than the rest of them, since she seemed to be
trying to shoulder not just her own pain, but Harry's too.

Ginny sighed, then whispered back, "They're not doing it on purpose."

Bill gave her a small smile.

Fall's End

October 2002

Hermione shrieked internally as Harry rode over a fallen log, launching them several feet into the air. She
tightened her grip on him, digging her hands into his chest in warning. Harry placed a hand on hers that she
thought was meant to be comforting, but just put her more on edge, since he really should keep both hands on the
handlebars of the ancient motorbike he was driving.

She turned her head and could just make out Ron behind them, but it was hard to see much with the helmet
blocking her vision. She forced herself to relax and focus on breathing through the tube in her mouth. They'd be
there soon.

The bike she and Harry were sitting on sputtered again and she gripped him even tighter. He pulled on her arm.
Oops, she was hurting him. "Sorry," she said, though the word came out garbled through her mouthpiece, and he
wouldn't hear it over the loud sound of the motorbike or through the helmet she was wearing.

Then, she felt a rumbling in his chest. That prat was laughing at her, wasn't he? If they could communicate, he'd
probably tell her this was all her fault, which wouldn't be wrong—though he'd played a big part in it too.

It all started a few months ago when Harry asked her how she would have made it to Fall's End without James's
help. What had followed was a lot of research. The most obvious solution was aqua lungs, but as Hermione had
told Harry back in Fourth Year, Muggle devices like that went haywire around magic. And the magic surrounding
the falls was obviously powerful, since it was able to counter other people's magic.
There were spells that could be cast on Muggle technology so it would work in the presence of magic, the
problem was, the protections around the falls rendered spells like that useless. Hermione had been stuck for a few
weeks pondering the problem until she'd finally had a breakthrough.

"Aqua lungs," she'd announced proudly over dinner one day.

"You said they wouldn't work," Harry pointed out. "You said they'd go haywire in the presence of such powerful
magic."

"I know. And I was right. If I went and bought a set of aqua lungs from the store right now and tried them, they
wouldn't work. But if I made a set myself, modeled after the original pair that was invented in the 1800s, they
would."

"What? Why?"

"It's not all Muggle devices that don't function around magic, just electronics which, these days, are in almost all
Muggle devices. But magic does not affect basic mechanics. So, following that same logic, an old car would work
in the mist too. One propelled by a classic gas engine, without all the fancy electronics cars have now. So what I
would do is make a pair of aqua lungs, fix up an old car, and drive the car straight to the base of the waterfall. It
would take ten minutes, tops."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, then shot her a beaming smile. "You're brilliant." Before she could thank him, he
followed it up with, "Let's do it."

"What? No."

"Why not? It's the one Wonder we never made it to. Aren't you a little curious to see what this enlightenment is
all about?"

Finding a classic car with an engine that was completely powered by mechanics was a lot harder than Hermione
thought it would be. So they'd switched out the car with old dirt bikes, which already had simple engines that
would be easier to transport anyway. Harry still had to do a few modifications and surprised both of them with his
inherent understanding of how all the pieces fit together and his knack for tinkering with the engine.

And now, here they were, zooming through the misty forest at a breakneck pace on rusty motorbikes as they wore
helmets (which Hermione had insisted on, since they wouldn't be able to protect themselves with magic if they
fell), and breathed clean air through the aqua lungs Hermione had constructed (again, with a lot of help from
Harry).

Hermione knew they looked ridiculous but so far, they hadn't run into anyone. And it was certainly a more
efficient way to reach the falls than whatever strategy that Australian couple had been using in the other world,
which after two weeks still hadn't proven successful.

The sight of the trees whipping past them was making Hermione dizzy, especially when coupled with that empty
feeling of having no access to her magic that she hated. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing
through the mouthpiece. Then, a minute later, the bike came to an abrupt stop. She opened her eyes just in time to
see Harry throwing his leg out to catch them.

"Oi! Fuck!" She turned and saw Ron and his bike topple over. He'd turned just in time to avoid riding into the
water, but hadn't managed to catch himself as Harry had. He crashed to the ground and she saw his mouthpiece
pop out of his mouth.

"Ron!" she cried, though it came out distorted through her mouthpiece. Hermione jumped off the bike and ran to
his side, feeling her magic return to her as she crossed the distance between them. She was trying to come up with
a plan to get Ron's unconscious form safely out, reaching for the paper she'd placed in her pocket with the
coordinates of the safe spots they'd discovered with Lily and James, when Ron sat up and pulled his helmet off
his head.

"That was brilliant! Can we do that again?"

The mist hadn't affected him? How?

"Hermione!" Harry shouted to be heard over the roaring water. She turned to find him behind her. He'd taken his
helmet and mouthpiece out and was smiling widely. "It's safe! We made it!"

She looked around and for the first time, noticed the breathtaking view around them. The area was free of mist,
which was hovering at the edge of the forest, making a sort of wall. It was almost as if the force of the waterfall,
which was creating a cool wind, had pushed it back. The water was crashing into a large pool, which cascaded
around to several smaller pools, making dozens of smaller waterfalls. The sound was deafening, so she cast a
Silencing Charm, happy to feel her magic coursing through her veins again.

Hermione took her helmet off and placed her aqualungs on the ground, then turned to find Harry and Ron
watching the scene with awe. "I can't believe that worked," Ron said, his mouth hanging open slightly.

Hermione shook her head as she turned back to the enormous waterfall. She knew he'd doubted the Muggle
methods she and Harry had suggested. But she wasn't surprised it had worked. It was just science and it seemed
fitting, in a way. Just like how parts of all the Wonders, like this waterfall, weren't created by magic, but by
nature, which seemed just as powerful as magic sometimes.

"Ready?" Harry asked. He was at her side and had snaked an arm around her waist.

"I know we've been planning this for ages, but now that it's time, I'm suddenly nervous," she admitted.

"What do we do?" Ron asked. "Just—drink?"

Hermione shrugged. "There's alarmingly little documented evidence of people finding enlightenment and how the
process works. But one thing every source seemed to agree on was that drinking the water at the base of the falls
would lead you to enlightenment."

Hermione conjured a glass and bent over to dip it into the pool of water at their feet. "Who wants to go first?" she
asked, turning to face Harry and Ron.

"Witches first," Ron said, looking at the water warily. It swirled in the glass innocently, looking no more powerful
than normal water.

Hermione gulped and was about to raise the glass to her lips when Harry pulled it toward him. "I'll go first." She
gave him a relieved smile and watched him take a tentative sip from the glass. His eyes glazed over and she could
tell whatever he was seeing was different from the scene around them.

She began to panic, then his gaze was lucid again. "Well?" she asked.

He frowned, confused, then took another sip from the water. His eyes went blank again but this time when he
came to, he was smiling.

"What is it?" she cried. "What did you see?"

Harry burst into laughter. Hermione and Ron exchanged concerned glances.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

He simply laughed, throwing his head back and she was starting to think the water had made him mad. She glared
at the glass of water in his hand as panic rose in her chest. "Harry James Potter!" she cried. "Tell us what's going
on, this instant!"

Her shout finally seemed to snap him out of his fit. "It's the mist," he said, still smiling.

"What's the mist?"

"Here, drink, you'll see."

Hermione glowered at the glass, then took a sip. Her mind clouded with an image of the forest, the thick mist
billowing through the trees. When her vision cleared, she saw Harry watching her, expectantly. Then she got it.
The mist. The bloody mist!

All that difficulty trying to reach the base of the waterfall, which was near impossible, was the bloody point!
Because they weren't meant to make it here. No one was meant to succeed. They were meant to inhale the mist
and see their darkest fears and through that, find enlightenment. Find what was truly important to them.

"Bollocks," she swore.

An hour later, they were still at the base of the waterfall. Hermione was running all the diagnostic spells she knew
on the magic in the area, determined to glean some sort of knowledge from this otherwise useless trip, while Ron
and Harry sat on a rock at the other end of the pool, kicking their feet in the water.

"It wasn't a complete waste," Ron said. "Those bikes are pretty cool. A lot more fun than I thought they'd be."

"Yeah. Especially when you don't have to wear aqualungs and a helmet. We should drive them around in that field
outside the Burrow when we're back."

Ron hummed in agreement.

"You really don't want to inhale the mist?" Harry asked.

"Fuck no," Ron replied. "I know my deepest fear—losing all my friends and family. I don't need to see that play
out for hours."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. Me neither."

They were quiet for a few moments, watching Hermione studying the swirl of floating runes hovering in the air in
front of her. "Er, I wanted to ask you something," Harry began.

Ron just nodded for him to continue.

"When we go to the Enchanted Forest this winter, I'm—erm—going to propose."

Ron's chest tightened, but he kept his face blank and facing forward. "Yeah. Figured that was coming up."

"Yeah? You don't think it's too soon? I mean—we don't have to talk about this if you don't want. I get that. But—
it will have only been a year since we got together but I think it feels right, then again, I've proven to have issues
in this area and—"

"It's not too soon," Ron said quickly, his voice coming out rougher than he'd meant it to. He knew this was
coming. And, honestly, he didn't want to be with Hermione. They weren't that compatible and she was so
obviously meant for Harry but still, it hurt. He was over it, mostly, and the sight of Harry and Hermione together
didn't bother him as much as it used to. It was just a dull ache now. But watching them marry each other? Yeah,
that was going to hurt.

Harry hummed and dropped his head. "Sorry."

Ron just nudged his side and grunted slightly. "Um, you said you had a question. Did you—uh—need something?
Or were you just wondering if it was too soon?"

Please don't ask for my help, please don't ask for my help, Ron chanted silently in his mind.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. "No. That was it. I just wanted to—er—warn you."

Ron nodded tersely. He was ready for this conversation to be over and cast around for something else to say. "I
wonder who Ginny will date when she finds out. Perhaps Lucius fucking Malfoy this time."
Harry let out a laugh, even though it wasn't funny. And Merlin, he hoped Ron was wrong. A month ago, Ginny
had started dating Draco Malfoy, of all people. Everyone was pretty clear on Malfoy's motivation behind the odd
pairing. He was rebelling against his father, who wanted to uphold the Pureblood traditions, while Malfoy wanted
to move the family in a more progressive direction.

Dating Ginny accomplished a lot of things for Malfoy: he got to upset his father, show the world he was willing
to put aside past prejudices, and date a beautiful witch. But no one understood why Ginny was going along with
it. She'd always been ambitious. Maybe dating Malfoy could get her farther in her career, perhaps because of the
boost in notoriety she'd achieved. Maybe she was doing it to upset Harry (like Ron thought), or maybe she
actually liked the bloke (this was the least likely option).

"She's not dating him to upset me," Harry said for the fiftieth time. He was pretty sure this was true. He and
Ginny weren't friends, not by any means, but they did see each other regularly and during those interactions, he'd
never got the sense she was pining over him. She seemed to have accepted the inevitability of him and Hermione
being together.

"A fucking ferret with my sister!" Ron groaned.

Harry nodded. They'd had this conversation a lot of times. "Maybe it was meant," he joked, trying to turn the
conversation somewhere lighter. "Aren't ferrets related to weasels somehow?"

The comment was met with a splash of water.

"How about I go tell Hermione what you have planned for December?"

Harry held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. Malfoy's the worst. Death to ferrets. Let's devise a plan to
break them up," he recited dutifully.

Ron let out a snort. He rubbed his wet palms over his face. Harry and Hermione were getting married, Ginny was
with a fucking Death Eater. He let out another laugh, louder this time. Fuck, a lot had changed in just a year,
hadn't it? And if he couldn't laugh about it, he'd go mad.

The Forgotten City

November 2003

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Charlie were sitting on a fallen log at the top of a floating island in the sky. It was the
same log Harry had sat on with James in another world as they'd watched his mum and Hermione play with Fire
Lizards. He'd been snubbed by the small dragons again today, as had Ron, Ginny, and Charlie, the latter of whom
wasn't taking it well.

"I deal with dragons every day. I'm the only one at the Sanctuary who managed to soothe our Chinese Fireball last
week. She even let me near her eggs! But these infernal creatures nearly bite my fingers off!"

Harry was trying to keep from laughing at Charlie's tirade as he watched Hermione and Ron's new girlfriend,
Nora, feed the Fire Lizards chunks of meat from a pouch that Mei, Zhihao's sister, was holding out for them.

"Should I be offended I was the only witch not chosen?" Ginny asked when Charlie was finally finished with his
rant.

"It's not a witch or wizard thing," Harry said, recalling how Zhihao had described it. "Our other guide said it had
to do with quiet power and strength of heart. It's also meant to be really rare."

"So this is a good sign?" Ron asked. "I mean … Nora. Enchanting the little dragons. I reckon that means she's
pretty good, yeah?"
Harry smiled at him. Ron had met Nora, who was a Healer at St. Mungo's, a few months ago while they'd been
preparing their testimonies for a high-profile case. He was still in that new phase of his relationship where he was
nervous about everything. Just inviting Nora to come on the trip had given Ron hives, which had only worsened
when she'd accepted. Luckily, Hermione knew a spell to remove the blotchiness in his skin.

"I think it means you have a type," Ginny teased. She looked to Harry to see how he'd react to the joke, but he just
shrugged. She was right. Even though Ron had dated loads of witches, he'd only ever had two serious girlfriends
and they both seemed to have the rare ability to charm Fire Lizards.

Harry couldn't keep his mind from drifting to the conversation he'd had with his father in this very spot, worlds
away.

"We may not have the quiet Fire Lizard powers the girls have, but we Potter men have a special power of our
own. We're able to get remarkable witches, who are way too good for us, to fall in love with us. Also, impossibly
untidy hair."

Harry smiled to himself. Ron, who'd been watching him, gave him an understanding nod. Ron was used to this by
now. This was the fourth Wonder of the World he'd visited with Harry and he knew what it looked like when he
was remembering his parents. He'd get a distant look in his eyes, quickly followed by the expression he was
wearing now, a mix of affection and despair. But it usually passed quickly.

"I think it means you should marry her," Harry added, forcing a smile onto his face. "I mean, here's proof she's
stronger than you. You may want to lock that down."

"It's only been a few months," Ron retorted. He was trying to make a show of irritation, but couldn't keep the
goofy smile from playing across his lips as he watched Nora. "Though, at the rate you're going," Ron continued,
"I might still beat you down the aisle."

Harry flipped him off while Ginny let out a nervous laugh. Charlie was focused on the Fire Lizards, not paying
attention to them.

Ron was right. Harry and Hermione were taking their time getting married. She'd accepted his proposal
immediately (almost a whole year ago, now), but when he'd pressed her to start planning the wedding, she'd
pushed back, claiming they had nothing but time. It wasn't until a few days ago that he'd finally convinced her to
set a date.

He'd been hurt, at first, assuming Hermione's reluctance had to do with lingering doubt about his commitment to
her. He'd brooded for a few weeks until she'd finally forced him to tell her what was bothering him. They'd had a
rather painful talk where Hermione had struggled to articulate her feelings through heavy sobs and Harry had
been horrified for a few moments that she was trying to break up with him. In the end, though, he'd got at the crux
of the matter. She was terrified.

It didn't have to do with him or any uneasiness about either of their feelings. She was, simply put, desperately
afraid of losing him and was worried if they made any sudden movements, the strong relationship they'd sort of
stumbled into would crumble. She'd been put off by how easy it had been. How seamlessly they'd slipped into an
unshakeable partnership.

He'd pointed out that the relationship may have been easy but getting there was fucking hard. She'd just nodded,
unconvinced. And he got it. Everything in their lives had been hard, so it was difficult to accept when things just
worked. Hermione was waiting for something to go wrong. And that was why she wanted to tip-toe toward the
wedding, as if hoping to catch it by surprise. It was also why she insisted they keep it small, which Harry didn't
mind.

He was relieved she'd finally picked a date but honestly, he would have waited longer. They lived together, Teddy
was over all the time and Hermione was brilliant with him, they'd already talked about having a family one day,
and she had a job she liked and didn't care that Harry didn't have one and was content to spend most of his time
helping her with her work or looking after the house and Teddy. He loved their life. It was perfect. And one day,
they'd get married and that would be great, but it wouldn't change very much.
Harry's attention was pulled back to the present by sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Charlie stood
up from the log and went to the edge of the floating island, where several dragons, including a mother and her
young, were flying by. Ron and Ginny shared a smile. It was amusing seeing their usually calm brother so
irritated, but they knew watching rare dragons fly by would calm him.

"It is sort of sad the Fire Lizards didn't pick him," Ginny said. "He would have loved that."

Ron nodded, then got a wicked gleam in his eye. "You know who would have never been chosen?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. Draco. Hah hah. Are you ever going to let that go?! It was nothing! Three
months. Just a little blip."

"You're still calling him Draco!"

"He was my boyfriend! I got used to calling him by his name."

"I thought he was just a blip," Ron countered.

Ginny glowered at him and Harry saw her hand twitch toward her wand. "Can we talk about something besides
Malfoy?" Harry suggested.

Ron and Ginny glared at each other for a few more moments before mumbling, "Fine," at the same time.

An awkward silence settled over them. Harry had no idea what to say and wished Charlie would come back, but
he seemed distracted by the dragons. Eventually, he asked, "How's Quidditch?" while Ginny asked at the same
time, "How's the wedding planning?"

They laughed nervously. "Um, how about you go first?" she said. "We can get the more awkward one out of the
way."

"Yeah—er—okay." Harry's eyes flashed to Ron, who was enjoying this way too much. "Remember when I called
our wedding a party and—erm—nearly lost a limb?"

"I do," Ginny replied with a tight smile.

"Right, er, we finally have a date now—March 2nd, not that's, um, good. And we know what we want the
ceremony to be like but the rest of it—Hermione keeps referring to it like a big party we're obligated to put on for
our friends and mostly just sees it as an annoying chore, so I'm planning most of it which means it's probably
going to be pretty simple. So—uh—it's really different from, um, the other wedding."

"She never called our wedding a party," Ron said smugly.

Harry flipped him off again.

Ginny didn't say anything. She was watching Hermione and Nora again, her expression unreadable. Harry
followed Ginny's gaze and smiled when he saw a familiar-looking gold Fire Lizard perched on Hermione's
shoulder with a tail wrapped around her neck. He wondered if it was the same Lizard that had attached itself to
her in the other world.

Hermione beamed when she saw Harry looking at her and cocked her head toward the miniature gold dragon. He
assumed that was the answer to his question but before he could ask her, her attention was pulled back to Nora,
who had managed to coax a green Fire Lizard onto her thigh.

Harry could see Ginny watching him out of the corner of his eye. He took a breath before shifting to meet her
eyes, unsure what he was going to see there. The look on her face was complicated, a mixture of pain, acceptance,
sorrow, anger, and hope.

"I get it," Ginny whispered hoarsely. She cut off, unable to get any more words out. Harry usually only had silent
conversations with Hermione (which, in hindsight, should have been a big clue for Ginny). Sometimes he and
Ron managed to pass a few, short words with a shared glance, but Ginny and Harry had never mastered it. But
she tried it now, anyway, because she wanted him to know, but couldn't bring herself to speak the words.

She tried to say with her eyes, "I get it. I needed two years and several boyfriends—including Draco Malfoy, who
had nothing to do with you, by the way. I needed a few international assignments and time away from you, but I
got there in the end. This was the right thing for us. And I'll probably always feel angry when I think of it, and
we'll probably never get back to being proper friends, but I get it."

His nodded. He'd understood. At least, most of it, which was enough. Ginny nudged Harry's arm before sighing
and turning back to Ron.

"Harry's right. You should marry Nora. There's no way you're ever going to find anyone better. It's a wonder you
found her in the first place. Was it a love potion? You need to lock that down before she realizes—ahh!"

Ron had pushed her off the log.

Hidden Depths

April 2004

"Ow!" Hermione hissed, trying to squirm out of Harry's grip.

"Relax!" he scolded, tightening his hold on her shoulders to keep her firmly in place.

"Then stop hurting me."

"I'm not hurting you. I'm trying to ease the ridiculous amount of tension you're carrying around. These are the
tightest shoulders I've ever encountered."

"How many shoulders have you encountered?"

"I don't know. Mine, yours, Teddy's." He pressed down on the top of her shoulders to get her to lower them.
When she finally relaxed slightly, he began rubbing circles into her muscles.

"I think I'm okay with the fact that I'm carrying around more tension than a five-year-old and a man who is
unphased by nearly everything because he's literally stared down death before and can't be bothered with non-life-
threatening issues." She groaned as Harry reached a particularly tender spot.

"Sorry. This will make you feel better though, you always forget that in the moment."

"I'm just in a sour mood," she sighed.

"I know. You're stressed. Hence the tight shoulders, which make you sore and just adds to your irritation. It's a
vicious cycle. One I'm trying to break if you would just bloody relax." He pressed down on her shoulders again,
which were hiked up near her ears.

"I'd be able to relax better if this didn't hurt so much. Go gentler on me. I think you forget how strong you are
sometimes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "If I lowered the pressure any further, I'd just be rubbing your skin, which wouldn't do
anything."

"Then just rub my skin. I didn't even ask for this massage. We both know we're just stalling out here, having a
stupid fight about tight shoulders and skin rubbing because we don't want to go in there!"

Hermione sent a shock of magic to her shoulders. Once he released his hands, she turned around so she was
facing him. "Harry," she said gently, placing her hand on his chest. "I can get us another room."
Harry leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers as he let out a long sigh. He took her hand and smiled
when he felt the rings on her finger and rubbed them with his thumb.

"I love you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed.

She placed a warm hand on his cheek. "I love you, too. And I guess it has been a hectic few weeks, hasn't it?"

Harry snorted. That was a massive understatement. In the last month, they'd been married, started a new company
together, lobbied for investors for their company, and hired their first two employees to run things while they
went on this trip, which had been planned ages ago and couldn't be moved―well, not unless they wanted to lose
the two-bedroom suite Hermione had secured by exchanging countless letters in Mermish with the owner of the
hotel.

"You started a company," he said.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. It still didn't feel real. And it had happened so quickly. Just a few days before
their wedding, her boss had informed her they were shutting down the not-for-profit arm of the company she'd
been running. He claimed it wasn't profitable enough, which was the point, obviously.

After ranting to Harry about all the helpful products her team had in queue that would never see the light of day,
he encouraged her to finish them and sell them herself. One thing had led to another and before she knew it, she
was starting a company. Well, they had started it together.

Harry kept calling it hers, but he'd been just as busy meeting with investors, helping her track down wizards and
witches who had recently been laid off by her former employer before they secured new jobs, finding an office
building for them to rent, and when it came down to designing products again, she knew he'd be right alongside
her, checking her work and testing new products, like always.

Somewhere in there, they'd taken a day off to get married. It had been a busy month, even by her standards, and
she was glad this trip to Pacifica had been too hard to move. They needed it. She was also glad she'd thought to
come two days ahead of Neville, Hannah, Luna, and Rolf, since Harry needed the time to adjust to a place that
held so many memories of his parents.

"We started a company," she corrected.

"So we did." Harry moved his hands to her neck, threading his fingers through her hair as he let out a ragged
breath. "It's possible the massage was an excuse I made up to avoid going inside."

"No," she said sarcastically. "That whole rant about how I'm too stressed and need to relieve the tension with an
impromptu massage and how it had to be done in the hall, so we wouldn't start our holiday with any burdens, was
about something else?"

He let out a small laugh.

"Harry. Look at me."

He took a deep breath, then leaned back and opened his eyes.

"We can get another room," she repeated.

"I want this one."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and she could tell by his eyes that he was sincere, and not just putting on a show, especially since he
knew how hard it had been for her to secure this exact room, using nothing but letters to describe the suite and its
location in this large hotel.

"Shall we go in then?" she whispered. "Or would you like to continue torturing me in the hall? Maybe you're
hoping we'll get kicked out."
"Pfft. That was nothing like torture. And you, of all people, should know." She opened her mouth in mock affront,
but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement in her eyes. Harry sighed and turned to the door. "Okay. I'm
ready."

Hermione took the key Jumana had handed her at the reception out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed
it open. She grabbed Harry's hand and marched them inside, figuring it was better to just get this over with.

As the door clicked closed behind them, Hermione was hit with a wave of nostalgia so strong, it nearly knocked
her over. She gripped Harry's arm for support as the air left her lungs and tears blurred her vision. It was the
same. Exactly the same. It would be, though, wouldn't it?

Just as Voldemort picking Neville over Harry had no impact on a young Merwoman named Jumana's decision to
work at the reception of a hotel as she took classes at the local university at night, it hadn't affected the design
choices of whoever had put together this suite.

Hermione turned her head and half-expected to see Lily in the kitchen, making tea, or James hunched over a
foreign newspaper at the table, tapping his wand to the page and muttering a Translation spell every few minutes.
They'd been to locations in this world that matched places they'd seen with Lily and James, but this was different
for some reason. They'd lived here together, even if it had just been for a few days.

Harry stumbled forward a few feet to the sitting room. "Fuck," he breathed, stopping just behind the chair Lily
and James had curled up in together. "It's like they're here. Just upstairs. About to burst in with a few bottles of
wine and suggest we play a drinking game."

Hermione came up behind him and snaked her hands around his middle. She kissed the side of his neck. "I
know."

Harry looked over at the spot next to the window where he'd told his mum he loved Hermione. He could almost
hear their conversation now.

"I don't know what to do."

"Be patient. Hermione tends to cling to her plans because they give her life meaning and order, and this is a
pretty big plan she's going to have to get rid of. And the alternative, being with you ... I imagine it scares her."

"It scares me too."

Harry dropped his face in his hand. "I did what you said," he told the version of his mum he talked to in his
mind. "I was patient and we made it. I just wish you could have seen it."

His mind flashed to the wedding and the spot near the front where his parents should have been sitting. Arthur
and Molly had occupied the row alongside McGonagall, Hagrid, and Andromeda, which meant the world to him,
but still … they weren't his parents. And they didn't know. It killed him that they didn't know he'd married
Hermione. He wanted to tell them so badly and now―it fucking sucked because they felt so close. They were
right here in the room with him but also … worlds away.

His body began shaking with sobs and he had to grip the chair in front of him for support. Hermione tightened her
grip on him. "Breathe, Harry," she whispered. "Just, breathe."

He did what she said and after several deep breaths felt slightly calmer, though just as sad. He turned around and
pulled her into his chest. As he held her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, he reminded himself he
wasn't alone. He had this incredible witch, this incredible wife. She was his. She knew everything about him and,
impossibly, had still chosen to spend her life with him. As long as she was by his side, he wasn't alone.

When Harry had regained his composure, he stood up straight and pulled Hermione to the couch. He took the spot
in the middle and set her on the side, near the armrest. The same spot she'd been sitting when he'd told her he
loved her for the first time.

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I think of this night more than any others."
"The drinking game?" he quipped. "You were pretty drunk. I'm surprised you remember it."

She hit his leg playfully. "You know that's not the night I was talking about. You're cheeky today."

"I'm always cheeky."

Hermione lifted her head and turned so she was facing him, pulling one of her legs up on the couch. "That's true."

They were quiet, each remembering that night. One that had looked so similar to this one, but that had happened
years ago in another dimension. Harry placed one of his hands over Hermione's and twirled her ring. She raised
her free hand to the back of his head and began playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They didn't say
anything, but they knew what the other was thinking. Harry was sorry he'd taken her for granted for so long.
Hermione was sorry she'd kept putting off their wedding and made him think she'd doubted him.

They'd apologized to each other a hundred times but now, they didn't need to. It was done and they were here,
exactly where they were supposed to be, and the long road they'd taken to get here was okay. It was just part of
the journey.

Hermione rested her forehead on Harry's shoulder.

"This is a pretty lousy Honeymoon. Isn't it?" he asked.

She smiled into his shirt. "We've discussed this. This isn't our Honeymoon. You can't have a Honeymoon when
you're sharing a suite with two other couples."

"Not a proper one. No," he agreed.

"We're going to postpone the Honeymoon to this summer, when the company is more settled and I have a team of
employees in place who are trained and capable of running things on their own for a few weeks."

Harry just hummed. "Okay then. I don't see why we can't practice for the Honeymoon." He leaned forward and
captured her mouth with his. After a long, deep kiss that left both of them breathless, he turned his head and
whispered in her ear, "I believe you wanted me to forgo the massage and rub your skin."

"Yes," she sighed as the scratching of the stubble on his jaw against her neck sent a chill through her.

He moved a hand up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts under her bra, brushing his thumb along her
nipple. "Did you want me to rub this skin here?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He moved his hands down and began unbuttoning her jeans. "What about in here? Any skin in here I should rub?"

Hermione smirked. "I don't think the parts you rub in there count as skin. Maybe … organs? I don't know. I'd
have to look it up."

Harry let out a small laugh as he pulled down her zipper. "You can look it up later." When her jeans were undone,
he tapped her hip, trying to get her to lift her bum so he could pull the jeans down, but she stayed in place.

"Are you sure? We can talk about your parents. You can tell me what you were thinking about earlier, we can
swap memories, and imagine what they're doing now. We can save this for later."

Harry placed a soft kiss on her lips, then moved his hands to the front of her blouse and began undoing the
buttons. "Sure, we can do that," he whispered against her lips. "Or we can do this," he paused to pull her blouse
up over her head, "work out some tension, then after, we can lie on the couch and do all the depressing stuff you
just mentioned."

Hermione kissed him again, deeply this time. "Okay."

Harry made quick work of removing the rest of their clothes. Once they were naked, he pulled Hermione onto his
lap. "I have a confession," he said as he pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

He started tracing his finger along the line of her neck and shoulder, then down around the curve of her breasts,
making the hair on Hermione's arms stand on end. "What?" she asked.

"I had a lot of dreams about that night I told you I loved you. But instead of brushing me off―" he smirked,
"―you kissed me and before long, we ended up in this position."

"Ahh. I see. It was that sort of dream." She rolled her hips, grinding into him, then leaned forward and whispered
in his ear, "I had the same dream."

Their lips crashed together as she continued rocking her hips, rubbing her clit against him. The intensity of her
movements surprised even her. Harry was right, she'd been too stressed and too busy. But this was exactly what
she needed. He was exactly what she needed.

Harry moved his hands to her bum and dropped his lips down to her neck, sucking on a sensitive spot near her
ear. She let out several moans as she reached for him, taking his firm length in her hand. She lifted her hips and
positioned him at her core, then slowly lowered down, sighing at the familiar feeling of being filled up by him.
Yes. This was exactly what she needed.

He squeezed her bum, then grabbed her chin and kissed her fiercely as she bounced on top of him. "Harry," she
said breathlessly, unable to form the words to the rest of the sentence. He knew what she wanted, though, and
moved one hand to her chest, where he began swirling his thumb around her nipple as she moved his other hand
between her legs.

The sensations threatened to overwhelm her. The feeling of his hand on her breasts, his tongue entwined with
hers, his fingers on her clit, his cock moving inside her. Her tension was building and was about to snap, but she
wasn't ready for it to end. "Wait," she bit out. "Harry―I'm―I'm―"

"I know."

"Slower," she panted. Hermione slowed the rocking of her hips while Harry shifted his hands so they were resting
lightly on her sides. He gave her a sardonic look that said, "You're the one in charge here. If you want to go
slower, go slower," and she couldn't help but laugh.

The coil at her center loosened slightly and she let out a contented sigh. She wanted to draw this out as long as
possible. Harry was just watching her, giving her one of those looks that made her heart stop, that made her feel
like they were the only two people in the world.

She quickened her pace again. Harry returned his hands to her bum and pulled her harder against him, forcing
himself deeper inside her. She let out a few breathy moans. He dipped his head down and placed a soft kiss on the
top of her chest. He raised an eyebrow in question and at her nod, began devouring her breasts again. She cried
out in pleasure, the sound echoing around the glass walls of the room.

That tension that had been building finally snapped. She gasped in surprise and her vision blurred slightly.

Harry continued to thrust into her, gripping her hips to guide her movements. He pulled her down into a kiss and
she summoned her remaining energy to rock her hips, tilting them at the end of each thrust in that way he liked.
He let out a string of swears, then a groan as his body jerked under hers. She continued kissing him and rolling
her hips through his release, until he finally went slack. "Fuck," he whispered.

She folded onto him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Was it like your dream?" she whispered after a few
moments, when she'd finally caught her breath.

"No," he said, still panting. "I was never able to imagine anything that came close to this. What about you?"

Hermione turned her head and smiled at him. "My dream was better." She patted his chest, which was covered in
a thin sheen of sweat. "Don't worry, though. You'll get there. We have plenty of time."
 Harry rolled his eyes. "You are insufferable, Mrs. Potter."

Hermione's heart thumped. Mrs. Potter. That was her name, wasn't it? She still couldn't believe it. She sat up
again and lifted her hand to brush away the black hair that was covering his scar. Her expression was serious now,
the teasing from just a moment ago forgotten. "Is this real, Harry? It's not a dream? Am I really going to get
everything I ever wanted?"

He matched her serious expression with one of his own, his green eyes intense with determination as he pushed a
damp curl behind her ear. "Absolutely. I'm going to make sure of it."

Chapter End Notes

A/N: We're back to traveling! I just couldn't leave this story without giving the Wonders a little more
attention. Also, I think Harry and Hermione would have made a point of visiting all of them again, even
though it's painful. Harry did make that promise to Lily about remembering everything and not just pushing
the pain to the back of his mind.
 Epilogue, Part 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Giant's Gulch

May 2008

Harry and Hermione were sitting under the shade of a tree, watching Teddy run across the red rock clearing ahead
of them with a dog barking at his heels. When Teddy reached the pool of water, he dove straight in. The dog
leaped in after him, changing into what looked like a small dolphin in midair before splashing into the water.

Teddy emerged from the pool with his arm draped over the dolphin, who was nudging his nose into his cheek.
Teddy laughed, then turned his hair from blue to raven black. "Don't forget, you're not the only one who can
change," he told the creature, who clicked back at him in approval.

Teddy pulled himself out of the water and the animal followed him, appearing in the form of a small horse now.
Teddy and the horse ran to a nearby tree and when Teddy began scrambling up the limbs, the creature became a
monkey and followed after him.

"He's going to be exhausted tonight," Hermione commented.

Harry laughed. "I'm exhausted just watching him."

"Tearing them apart from each other is going to be hard."

"Yeah, but he's old enough to understand now. Nothing like that fit he threw when they first met."

Hermione winced. She'd never forget the two-hour-long tantrum from the time they'd first brought Teddy here.
He'd been five years old and completely enamored by the chamologue, who he'd promptly named Morph. When
it was time to leave, he'd started screaming at the top of his lungs, his appearance changing wildly as he shouted
in agitation.

Harry was forced to carry him all the way back to their campsite. Once there, they'd tried every method of
distraction they could think of but weren't able to calm Teddy. Ultimately, he'd just passed out from exhaustion.

Harry looked over at Hermione. She was lying back on her elbows with her eyes closed as a breeze shook her
curls, which were still damp from their earlier swim. The air was cool and refreshing but Harry knew that would
change in a few hours. Once the sun seeped into every crevice of the canyon, the temperature would rise quickly
and all the breezes would be warm.

They'd been visiting Giant's Gulch every year since that first time they'd come with Teddy and had come to know
the Sanctuary and a few of the giants well. The first thing they did was find Morph, who seemed just as enamored
with Teddy as the boy was with him (or her, they didn't know Morph's gender). They'd asked one of the giants if
the chamologue usually latched on to children and were told that this behavior was rare. It seemed to sense a
kindred spirit in Teddy, who could also change his appearance at will, and would follow him around the
Sanctuary during their entire visit.

Hermione let out a small, contented sigh, drawing Harry's attention back to her. Damn, she was beautiful. His
eyes drifted down her form, which was covered by a simple black swimsuit and shorts, and stopped at the slight
almost undetectable swell of her belly. If he didn't know her body so well, he would have missed it.
Harry reached over and placed his hand on top of the small bump. She smiled as her eyes fluttered open. "Hi."

"You're gorgeous."

She beamed back at him, which further improved her appearance, something he hadn't previously thought
possible.

"When are we going to tell Teddy?" she whispered.

Harry looked over at Teddy, who was currently running toward them. "Now?"

Hermione just shrugged and pulled herself to a sitting position as Teddy approached. Morph had transformed into
a colorful snake and wrapped himself around Teddy's thin torso and neck. "Do you have any snacks?" Teddy
asked, out of breath.

Hermione reached for her backpack and unzipped the smaller pocket. "You know me well enough by now to
know that I always have snacks, Teddy." She tossed him a bag of cheese crackers, followed by a bag of grapes.
She pulled out a second bag of grapes and put it on the ground between her and Harry before zipping the
backpack up.

Harry and Hermione watched Teddy devour the food, acting as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, while they shared the
other bag of grapes, attempting to model how civilized people ate, though Teddy wasn't paying attention.

"Psst," Hermione hissed.

Harry dragged his eyes away from Teddy, who was feeding Morph a few of the crackers, then back to Hermione.

She lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head toward Teddy.

Harry shrugged.

Hermione glared at him and they had a brief silent conversation. "Tell him," she said with her eyes.

"Why don't you do it?"

"You're his godfather!"

"You're the one who's pregnant!"

Hermione sighed, then turned to Teddy and said without fanfare, "Teddy, Harry and I are going to have a baby."

Teddy froze. Morph, as if picking up on his shift in mood, changed into a white cat and climbed into Teddy's lap.
Teddy began petting him absently as he frowned, focusing on the base of the tree. "When?" he asked.

"October," Hermione replied. "Probably a week or two before Halloween."

"So, you're―uh―" He cut off and looked down at Morph. "You're going to have a new baby around during my
last year before Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Harry said, watching Teddy carefully.

"I understand," Teddy said, his voice devoid of its usual energy. "You're probably going to be pretty busy."

"Teddy―" Harry began.

Teddy's eyes snapped to meet Harry's. "I get it, Harry. It's going to be hard for you to practice flying with me on
the weekends and―uh―have me round the house all the time. I under―"

Harry placed a hand on Teddy's bony shoulder. "None of that is going to change," he said firmly.
"It isn't?" Teddy looked to Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, we're going to be busy with the baby," Harry continued, "but that doesn't mean we're going to stop seeing
you. We love you too much. Remember when your Grandmum took you out of town for two weeks last winter?
We were beside ourselves."

"He's right," Hermione chimed in. "We missed you terribly. Harry was reduced to a puddle of tears, couldn't get
out of bed for a solid day."

Teddy rolled his eyes, a habit he'd picked up from Hermione. "Now you're just joking."

Hermione smiled. "Maybe, but the point stands. You're a part of our family and that's not going to change."

Teddy turned to Harry. "So, we're still going to practice flying together?"

"Yes."

"And you're still going to take me to Diagon Alley to get my stuff for Hogwarts next summer?"

"Yes."

"And King's Cross Station? You'll be there to drop me off?"

"Absolutely," Hermione chimed in. "We'll bring the baby."

Teddy bit his lip and Harry could tell the following question was the one he was most nervous about. He looked
back at Morph, who was purring loudly, as he asked, "And this trip? We come every year but―with a baby―"

"We'll bring the baby," Harry said.

Teddy's eyes brightened. "Yeah?" He looked to Hermione again for confirmation.

She nodded.

Teddy beamed as the last of his concerns melted away. "Cool. That's going to be pretty cool, having a baby
around. Almost like a little brother or sister." He blushed. "I mean, I know it's not the same―"

"I think it's going to be exactly like that," Harry said, giving Teddy's shoulder a final squeeze before dropping it.

Teddy nodded distantly. "My friend Padraig has a baby brother. He doesn't seem to like him very much, though.
Says he just poops and cries all the time."

Hermione let out a laugh. "Well, our baby will be the same. But not for long. Or, well, I hope not."

Teddy shrugged. He handed Hermione the empty plastic bags from his snack and placed Morph on the ground
before standing up. "I still think it's cool. And I'm happy for you. You're going to be brilliant parents. Sort of
already are."

"Sort of brilliant or sort of parents?" Harry asked. "I think the distinction here matters."

Teddy rolled his eyes before running back into the clearing. "Come on, Morph!" The creature turned into a small
rabbit and hopped after him.

"Well, he's fine," Hermione said, lying down on her back with her head propped up on the backpack.

"All that worrying for nothing."

She smiled up at him.

Harry shifted so he was lying on his side and resting his head on her stomach. She reached down and began
threading her fingers through his hair. Harry closed his eyes and focused on the swirling sounds of Hermione's
insides. There was a tiny baby in there, growing more and more each day. He couldn't help but marvel at the
wonder of witches and their ability to create life. Why didn't more people talk about how incredible that was?

"Hey," she whispered.

Harry opened his eyes and saw Hermione looking down at him.

"I know the gender."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? When did you find that out?"

"Just before we left. Do you want to know?"

He lifted his head. "Yeah. Absolutely. What is it?"

"It's a girl."

Harry's heart stopped. He looked back at her stomach and the slight bump there. "A girl?" he breathed.

"Yeah."

Harry exhaled heavily. "Bloody hell." He leaned forward and dropped his forehead against her abdomen. A
girl! They were going to have a little girl. Would she look like Hermione? With bushy brown hair and green eyes?
Or would her hair be dark, like his? Maybe she'd have Hermione's eyes. Would she be smart? Merlin, he hoped
she took after Hermione in that department. But with his flying ability, of course. A girl!

He smiled as several tears fell down his face onto Hermione's swimsuit. She started raking her fingers through his
hair again. Harry wanted to say something brilliant. To tell her how much he loved her. How much it meant to
him that they were starting a family together, and how he was completely devoted to her and their daughter and
would do anything for them. But he couldn't make the words come out. Though he could tell by the look in her
eyes that she knew.

"She's going to be the luckiest little girl with the best father in the entire world. In all the worlds," she added with
a grin.

Harry had to take several deep breaths before he was able to respond. "I can't wait to meet her. But I'm probably
going to be a mess that day―a puddle of tears, as you said―so I hope you weren't looking for any support from
me."

"Good to know," she replied with a smirk. "I'll plan to have a backup there."

Enchanted Forest

June 2018

"My legs hurt," Rose complained.

Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione. They shared an exasperated look before Harry turned back to Rose
and said, "You'll live."

"Why can't we just Apparate?"

"You know how to Apparate, Love?" Harry teased. "Since when?"

She sighed dramatically. "You know what I meant, Dad."

"We already explained, Rose, that we can't Apparate where we're going," Hermione said from behind them. "We
need to get there by solving these little puzzles and, if memory serves, the last one is coming up soon."

"Fine," Rose sighed. "I wish I could be carried like Hazel." She looked toward her youngest sister who was on
Teddy's back with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Hazel's five," Alex, her younger brother, pointed out. "You're nine. You should be able to walk a few miles. I
think you're just bored."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, did I, Alex?" Rose snapped.

"Here we are!" Harry said, pointing to the clearing just ahead. He gave Hermione a look that said, "We're losing
them."

"I know," she mouthed as she pulled her wand out of her pocket, ready to solve the puzzle of the final toadstool.
This one was perched between four paths. She crouched in front of it, looking for the spot on the toadstool that
looked most like the rune for Wunjo.

Alex, who had been fascinated by all the puzzles she'd solved today, crouched next to her. "What are you looking
for?"

"A rune," she replied.

"There's one." He pointed at a shape that looked like either Fehu or Ansuz.

Hermione shook her head. "That is a rune, though it's hard to tell exactly which one, since it's a bit distorted.
Either Fehu, which stands for prosperity and beginnings, or Ansuz, the rune of the divine. Neither of those fit,
though."

Alex nodded as he took it all in. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Out of their three kids, he was the most similar
to her, with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. But when it came to his looks, he was just like Harry, but with
brown eyes and no glasses. He was actually closer in appearance to James, though the resemblance was less
obvious when Alex was wearing his typical serious expression.

"She's just giving him a lesson," Rose whined from the side of the clearing.

"Quit the whining, Rose," Harry snapped, "or we're going to leave you behind while we all go visit the fairy
colony."

"You wouldn't leave me behind."

"Would he really leave her behind?" Hazel asked Teddy from Hermione's other side, sounding a little worried for
her sister.

"Maybe," Teddy shrugged. "I wouldn't push him."

"No one's leaving anyone behind," Hermione said. "But can you all be quiet so I can focus? We're nearly there."

Just then, she spotted the rune she was looking for. "Look here, Alex. I was looking for this one. Wunjo. It means
happy endings. Fitting, right?"

Alex's brow furrowed. "What if you don't know it's the end of the puzzles? You only know 'cause you've been
here before."

Hermione smiled. He was only seven, but had immediately caught on to the primary difficulty with this puzzle.
"If you don't know this is the last toadstool, you have to find all the runes on its surface, determine their
meanings, and choose the one that fits the best. Which is made especially tricky by the fact that a lot of the shapes
look like multiple runes."

"That would take a long time. And you have to know all the runes," Alex murmured, sounding awed.
"You have to know runes, yes, but I have a spell that helps with remembering what they all mean."

"What happens if you choose the wrong rune?"

"I imagine the wrong path would be highlighted."

Alex hummed.

Hermione held her wand out for him. "Why don't you tap it?"

His brown eyes went comically wide. "Really? Will it―will it work?"

"I don't know. Couldn't hurt to try."

He took her wand, holding it awkwardly in his small hand, and tapped the shape she was pointing to. There was a
rush of wind in the clearing, which swirled in place as it picked up the leaves on the ground. Then, with a final
gust, the wind spread the leaves along two of the four paths.

Alex jumped up and let out a whoop of delight as Hermione took her wand back. "I did it! Did you see me,
Teddy?"

"I did! That was brilliant."

Alex turned around. "Dad! Mum's wand worked for me. I made the leaves swirl around."

"I want to use your wand," Rose cut in.

"Maybe later," Hermione said noncommittally. "Let's go on to the fairy colony."

They split up, since they knew by now that they had to use both paths simultaneously to make the colony appear.
Harry took Rose and Alex down the path on the right while Hermione went with Teddy and Hazel down the other
path. Before the forest swallowed up the sounds of the other group's voices, she heard Rose say, "Let's race
them!"

Hermione smiled to herself. Rose might look the most similar to her, but her personality was all James―the
constant joking, the unlimited stores of energy, and that impatience that drove Hermione and Harry mad. She was
clever, too. Far too clever for her own good. Hermione knew she'd get into loads of trouble once she went to
Hogwarts in a few years and had already warned McGonagall to keep a close eye on her.

"You know, I've never seen the colony in the daytime," Teddy said.

Hermione nodded. "Me neither. But you know the kids, they get grumpy at night."

"I don't get grumpy," Hazel grumbled from Teddy's back.

Hermione reached out and pushed a dark curl behind her daughter's ear. "Sure you don't. I was talking about Alex
and Rose."

This was a lie. Hazel completely shut down after 5:00 pm, transforming from her usually sweet self into an
absolute monster―overly sensitive about everything and bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. That's
why Harry called her his little changeling, a reference Hermione had explained didn't quite fit, but it was cute, so
it stuck.

Hermione shared a knowing look with Teddy before turning back to the path. "Thanks for coming," she said.
"You know we always appreciate an extra set of hands."

Teddy stopped and hiked Hazel up higher on his back, then continued walking next to Hermione. "It's good to get
away. Plus, when have I ever missed a family trip?"
Hermione smiled. "You didn't have trouble getting time off? I know how demanding the Auror Training Program
is."

Teddy shrugged. "The Chief pushed back at first, but I threw Harry's name around. Figured he's not using it for
any special treatment, so I may as well." He gave her a wicked grin so reminiscent of Tonks, it made Hermione's
heart clench. "Plus, it's just three days and if anything urgent comes up, I'll go right back."

Hermione squeezed his arm. "I'm so proud of you, Teddy. Have I said that?"

He smiled shyly. "Pretty much every time you see me."

"Good. So there's no question."

Before Teddy could reply, there was a shout up ahead that seemed to echo throughout the whole forest. "MUM!
You have to come see this! It's so cool!"

"Can you stop shouting, Rose?" Harry asked. "You're going to make the poor fairies go deaf."

"Teddy! Mum!" Rose bellowed, ignoring Harry. She appeared at the end of the path, her curly hair wild around
her flushed face. "You have to see this!"

"We have seen it, 'cuz," Teddy said calmly, stifling a laugh as he set Hazel down on the ground. "Several times."

"You were right, Mum. This was worth the boring hike." The next moment, she'd run out of sight. Hermione,
Teddy, and Hazel walked the rest of the way up the path and when they appeared in the clearing, Rose was
already jumping through the airstreams while Harry watched with his wand raised, ready to break her fall, if
needed.

Hermione looked around for Alex and spotted him near a large toadstool where a group of fairies was sitting
around a circular table. He was holding something in his hand, then began raising it to his mouth.

"Alexander James Potter! What on earth are you doing?!" Hermione cried. "You know better than to put strange
foods in your mouth."

He slouched and looked immediately ashamed. "But the fairies gave it to me, Mum," he said softly. "You said
they weren't dangerous."

Hermione felt guilty for shouting. She'd just been scared. The kids didn't know how dangerous the world could be
or about the truly awful things that could happen if you stumbled across the wrong type of magic. "Sorry, Alex. I
just want to check it for―" She cut off, not wanting to say 'poisons' in front of the fairies.

"I've got it, Hermione," Teddy said, clapping her on the shoulder before running to meet up with Alex.

Hermione let out a breath. Teddy would know how to check for poisons. And he'd be tactful about not offending
the fairies. He was already crouched down next to the toadstool, waving at the small creatures while wearing a
charming smile.

Hermione's attention was drawn to Hazel, who had wrapped her arms around Hermione's middle. She ran her
hands through the girl's dark-brown curls. "You okay, Honey?"

Hazel nodded as she scanned the area, carefully taking in the scene around them. Hermione smiled. Hazel was
always wary around new people and sights, but after she got comfortable, she'd probably be running through the
air after Rose.

Hermione took Hazel's hand and walked to the tree Harry was leaning against. "Is Alex going to live?" he asked
when they reached his side.

"Looks like it. Teddy's over there with him."

Harry just nodded, not taking his eyes off of Rose. She stumbled and Hermione winced, but Harry caught her
with a well-placed Levitation Charm, then sent a gust of wind to push her back on course. Rose continued
jumping as if nothing had happened, fearless like always.

Hermione shook her head, thinking about how Rose was going to give her a heart attack one day, but Harry just
smiled. Rose was exhausting and when she was in a bad mood, it was hard to keep from getting sucked into it, but
there was no denying her charisma: that ability she had to draw you in and how she could light up a room just by
entering it. Watching her now and the way she was enjoying herself so fully, it was impossible to keep from
smiling.

"Mummy?" Hazel asked softly, tugging on Hermione's shirt. "Where did Daddy ask you to marry him?"

Hermione smiled. Hazel was very interested in love stories these days but her favorite one, without question, was
Hermione and Harry's.

"Right there," Harry said, pointing to a tree near Alex and Teddy. "But it looked very different. It was nighttime,
for one, and winter, so everything was covered in a layer of snow."

"Wow," Hazel replied.

Harry looked at Hermione and cocked his head toward Rose. She nodded and raised her wand, taking up 'keep
Rose alive' duty so Harry could crouch down and talk to Hazel.

"What did you say?" Hazel asked.

He let out a small laugh. "A lot of things, and it was mostly nonsensical. I was really nervous."

"Why? Mum wasn't in love with you?"

"She was. But it was a big step and she's a very remarkable witch. I was surprised she wanted to be with me."

"That's silly. Of course she wanted to be with you. You're meant to be together." The way she said that, so matter-
of-factly, made Hermione's heart stop. She looked down at Harry and could tell by the expression on his face that
he'd noticed it too.

Hazel looked mostly like Hermione, with brunette curls a few shades darker than Hermione's, and a heart-shaped
face. But her piercing green eyes and full mouth were Lily's and every so often, she'd say something, like now,
that made her seem exactly like her grandmother. Their personalities were similar too, which seemed fitting, since
her middle name was Lily.

Hermione suspected with time, her resemblance to Lily, both in looks and demeanor, would only grow. Harry
reached up and ran a hand through Hazel's hair. "We are meant to be together," he said, his voice rougher than
normal. "You're right about that."

He looked up at Hermione and smiled and she had to work hard to pull her eyes away from that stare of his that
even now, years later, completely captivated her.

"He's right. We're soulmates, after all," Hermione told Hazel as she moved her eyes back to Rose, ready to catch
her if she fell.

Song of the Stars

August 2022

"Oh, and don't forget―"

"Hermione." Teddy placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders, turned her around, and marched her out of the tent,
where Harry, Ron, and Nora were waiting outside. "I know how to take care of your kids. I've done it a hundred
times."

"But this isn't just our kids, it's Ron amd Nora's too and―"

"Our kids are teenagers who can take care of themselves," Ron chimed in. "Honestly, it's just Hazel who's young
enough to need looking after, and even then, she's loads more responsible than any of our kids were at nine. She'll
probably be the one doing most of the babysitting."

Teddy nodded. "Now go. Enjoy your night. I'll send a Patronus if anything crazy happens, which it won't."

"Or the―"

"Coin," Teddy finished for Hermione, tapping his pocket. "Got it. Seriously, Hermione, why are you so on edge?
You've been like this the whole trip."

"Don't interrogate me, Auror Lupin. I used to change your nappies. Now go back to the kids before they burn the
tent down."

Teddy shook his head and wished them good night before disappearing into the tent.

"He has a point," Ron said, studying her. Hermione glared back at him, officially sick of being picked apart by
law enforcement officials. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," Hermione sighed, then plastered a smile on her face. "Let's go."

Harry wrapped an arm around her and kissed the side of her head. He knew exactly what had her on edge.

He knew it was because Alex was leaving in a few weeks for Hogwarts, and she wasn't ready to say goodbye to
him. Because work was busy and it hadn't been the best time to leave and she was worried about Clara's ability to
run things while they were gone, but was trying hard not to think about it and trust the witch. But most of all, she
was uneasy because they were on Hølen Island for the first time since their trip to the other world.

Harry and Hermione had visited all the Wonders of the World since their trip, some of them several times. And
they'd seen the Songs of the Stars five times since. But they'd never come to Hølen Island. They never talked
about it, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that visiting the last place they had stayed
with Lily and James would be too much. Just like how they always walked straight past their ruined house in
Godric's Hollow without a second glance any time they visited their graves.

Look at what had happened at Pacifica. They'd barely managed to make it through that trip and had never gone
back to the underwater city. But Hølen, they knew, would be worse. Yet here they were.

When Nora had insisted she take over planning the annual trip their families took together every summer,
Hermione didn't think anything of it. She was relieved to have one less thing on her plate. But when Nora had
announced the details of the trip a few weeks ago over dinner, Hermione had nearly thrown up, right on the table.

Harry had gone completely pale and the air in the room seemed colder. Even the kids had picked up on the
change in atmosphere. Harry was quicker on his feet and was ready with an excuse, she didn't remember what,
while Hermione ran to the loo. It had hit her so suddenly, her grief.

She'd thought it long-buried and healed and then, to be confronted with it so unexpectedly―memories of working
with Lily to heal the other Hermione's wound, finally telling Lily how she felt about Harry, dancing with James at
the restaurant… They weren't even her parents! But she'd loved them deeply, nonetheless. And poor Harry. It
would be so much worse for him.

Hermione had no idea how she'd made it through the rest of that dinner with Ron and Nora. If it hadn't been for
Harry gripping her hand under the table, she wouldn't have managed it. But they'd decided to go along with
Nora's plan, reasoning it would probably be good for them to visit the place, since they clearly had some
repressed feelings about that part of the trip.

And they'd survived so far, though Hermione had been, as Teddy said, 'on edge' the whole time. Harry had been
too, but he was better at hiding it from the others. At least they only had one more night here.

"Are you sad about sending Alex off, next month?" Nora asked, leaning into Hermione as they walked down the
path to the base of the mountain.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "Honestly, I'm a little worried about him. Rose couldn't wait to leave the house but Alex,
well, you know him."

"He adores you―both of you―and is probably having a hard time wrapping his head around not getting to see
you every day," Nora provided.

"That wasn't exactly what I was going to say―but yeah―pretty much. And it goes both ways. We have no idea
what we're going to do without him."

Harry tightened his grip on her.

"It gets better," Nora said kindly. "And you still have Hazel. Wait until you send your last one off. That year is
going to be especially hard."

It had been two years since Nora and Ron had sent their youngest daughter, Gwen, to Hogwarts, the same year
Rose started. And Hugo, Ron and Nora's eldest son, was going into his Sixth Year, so they were well-practiced at
Hogwarts drop-offs by now. More so than Harry and Hermione, who had had kids later than all their friends,
besides Neville, who had a son Hazel's same age.

"Nora cried for a solid day after we dropped Gwen off," Ron said.

"Thank you for that, Ron," Nora said snippily.

"They don't care. They cry all the time."

"Can we talk about something else?" Harry suggested.

"Yes, please," Hermione agreed.

"I have something," Ron said. "What's going on with Teddy and Victoire? Did you ask him?"

Harry and Hermione shared a smile. "He says nothing," Harry replied. "Apparently they're just best friends. That's
it."

"You two were just best friends," Ron pointed out.

"That's what I said," Harry replied.

"If this relationship is as inevitable as you all think, it would be nice if they could figure it out before getting
engaged to other people," Nora teased.

Hermione snorted while Ron said, "Oi! Too soon."

"Too soon?" Nora said. "We've been married for almost twenty years. Is there something you want to tell me?
Actually, you're off the hook for a second. We need to pause to Disapparate. We can pick this up at the
restaurant."

"Restaurant?" Harry and Hermione said at the same time.

"I thought we were going to see the Song of the Stars again," Hermione added, clutching Harry's arm tightly.
"We are. There's this lovely restaurant I found. It's at the base of a mountain and wraps around―"

"I know it," Hermione said quickly, cutting her off.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, studying her face again. Why couldn't she keep her feelings from playing across her
face like Harry could? She looked over at Harry. His face was mostly blank, but there was a torrent of emotions in
his eyes. She wanted to talk to him but couldn't say what she wanted to with Nora here. The contract they'd
signed for Kingsley precluded them from discussing any details from the other world around anyone besides Ron
and Ginny.

She squeezed his arm, then said with her eyes, "Are we really going to do this? I can come up with an excuse if
you need me to."

Harry's brow knit as he looked at the ground. Nora was watching them, confused, and Ron pulled her against him
and whispered something in her ear. Hermione wondered vaguely what it was, but was too focused on Harry to
put much thought into it. After several moments, Harry lifted his head and gave her a curt nod before turning to
Nora and saying, "Sounds lovely. Do you have the coordinates?"

Dinner was fine. Wonderful, actually. A lot better than Harry expected. It helped that Nora and Ron were content
to carry on the conversation, since neither Harry nor Hermione were in the mood to talk. Ron had probably
already guessed what was going on, but knew they couldn't discuss it, and Nora was too polite to ask.

She was used to this by now, being kept out of secrets shared between Ron, Harry, and Hermione, though they
came up a lot less frequently lately. People rarely discussed the war these days and had long since given up
speculating about the "secret mission" the three of them had gone on that had led to the defeat of Voldemort,
which was fine by Harry. He was just as eager to move on as everyone else.

"Let's dance before it gets dark," Nora suggested once the waiter had cleared their plates.

"No, thank you," Harry and Hermione said in unison.

Ron, who was already standing, went to Hermione's side and pulled her forcibly to her feet. "Come on. You two
can't sulk all night. You'll feel better after a few dances."

"I'm sure I won't," Hermione grumbled. She looked over at Harry, who just shrugged as he stood and offered his
hand to Nora.

"What is it?" Ron asked when he and Hermione were on the dance floor, out of earshot of the couples around
them. "Did you come here on your other trip?"

Hermione nodded, blinking fast to keep her tears from falling. "This is where we said goodbye to them," she said
in a broken voice.

Ron swore. "Shit. Sorry, Hermione. You could have said."

"It's fine. It's Harry I'm most worried about. I'm fine."

But she so clearly wasn't. Ron certainly didn't know her as well as Harry did, but he knew her well enough to
know she was barely holding it together. It was hard seeing Hermione, who was usually so composed, falling
apart like this. He swore again. How were the emotions still so raw?

"That was 20 years ago, Hermione," he said gently.

"21," she corrected, then added in her head, "The amount of life they got to live before it was cut short." She
wiped away a few tears that had gathered on her lower lashes.

Ron was watching her with a pained expression. "I get it. It just―hits you sometimes, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

"I'm sorry about this. You really should have said some―"

"It's fine," Hermione cut in. "Harry and I talked about it and it's―it's good, remembering. We usually take time
every few months to read the journal and talk about his parents but, well, life seems to get busier every year and
that was the first thing to go. But I think it's good we're forcing it now. Bloody painful―" Ron chortled, since she
never swore, "―but good."

"Okay. I'm going to give you back to your husband now. We both know you'd rather be with him."

"Yes," she said, matter-of-factly. "That point's been well-established."

Ron let out a laugh. "As the kids would say: solid burn."

Ron guided them to the other end of the patio where Harry and Nora were laughing about something. Well, Nora
was laughing and Harry was smiling politely. "Cutting in, Mate," Ron said, pulling Nora unceremoniously from
Harry's grasp, then waltzing with her to the other end of the deck where he and Hermione had been dancing.

"Déjà vu," Hermione whispered as she stood in front of Harry.

"No fucking kidding." That made her smile, which eased the tension in his chest slightly. He opened his arms.
"Come here."

She stepped forward and melted into him. As Harry wrapped his arms around her, the emotions he'd been holding
in all night finally released. The night they'd spent here with his parents had been one of the most emotional ones
of his life and now, without warning, he'd been forced to relive it.

He took deep, ragged breaths as a few tears fell down his face. Hermione linked her wrists behind his neck and
smiled up at him, her eyes warm but sad.

They'd stood just like this that night, clinging to each other to keep from falling apart. They'd been lost, she more
so than him, which had been a feat in and of itself, because Harry had been unsure of everything about his future,
besides the fact that he wanted Hermione to be there. And now, everything was so much better than he could have
imagined.

He had Hermione by his side and they were closer than ever before. They had three perfect children, a remarkable
godson, incredible friends, and jobs they loved. Harry never would have imagined during all those years of
unemployment that he'd end up running a small company, and he especially wouldn't have thought he'd like it.
But he and Hermione had created something great.

It was small, just six employees besides him and Hermione, but it was enough. They'd become like a little family
and Harry had learned that it didn't matter how fun the work itself was. Somedays, when he was testing new
products or helping Hermione in the lab, it was really fun, but on other days, when he was balancing their books,
it was incredibly dull. But it didn't matter when you loved the people you worked with and believed in what you
were doing.

Even with all that, there was a heaviness in his heart that would never go away. A longing for what might have
been and every time he acknowledged it, he felt guilty. His heart dropped when he looked back at Hermione and
saw the sorrow that was still swimming in her eyes. Was she missing his parents? Was that why she was sad? Or
was she disappointed that he was? That even after all these years and everything she'd given him, he wanted
more?

Harry reached out and stroked her cheek. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I don't want you to think that because I still long for them in the other world, that I'm not happy with the life
we've made in this one, or that it's not enough. Because it is. I need you to know that."
"I know, Harry. You can be perfectly happy and still long for the things you've lost. I feel the same. You don't
have to feel guilty about being sad."

Harry pulled her into a soft kiss. "I love you just as desperately now as I did then," he whispered. "More so,
actually."

She smiled against his lips. "Same."

Harry took another deep breath, then straightened and pulled her against his chest. Once again, she'd managed to
quell something that had been bothering him for months in a second. He should have just gone to her first; that
was always the best option.

"I wish you could see us," he thought. "We're really, really happy and my only regret is that we weren't able to
show you just how well it all turned out."

Hermione nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Harry just continued to breathe deeply as he held her close,
placing one hand on her waist and burying the other in her hair. He hugged her until long after the music stopped
and everyone had returned to their seats to see the lights.

It was the same thing he'd done 21 years ago in another world. His heart was less shattered than it had been that
night, but it was still broken, and he still needed Hermione's support to stay upright. He clung to her for strength
as he forced himself to remember them, without guilt this time, just as he'd promised Lily he would while they'd
danced on this very patio.

London

September 2024

As Hermione walked into the study, she spotted Harry sitting in the green armchair by the fire, tapping his quill
against a notebook. He was lost in whatever he was doing and hadn't noticed her walk in. She leaned against the
doorframe and watched him for a few moments.

There were countless strands of grey in his dark hair and several more lines on his face than there used to be but
still, when she saw him like this, sitting in his chair by the fire, she was always brought back to Hogwarts. She
could imagine him rushing to finish up a homework assignment before passing it to her to look over.

They were old now, with three children at Hogwarts (as of two days ago) but sometimes he was still that same
boy she'd fallen in love with, denied her feelings for, followed to the ends of the earth, watched die, then come
back to life, and dragged to another dimension.

Lily told Harry once that he and Hermione had been through more together than most people would in a lifetime,
and that was before they'd started a company, had kids, fixed up a house, and done all that other stuff adults did.
And still, a part of her felt like they were just getting started.

"Harry."

He jumped, his hand flying toward his wand on the side table. He pointed it at her while that familiar fight burned
in his eyes. "Shit, Hermione," he said, lowering his wand.

She held her hands up as she walked into the room. "Please, don't shoot."

He placed the notebook he'd been writing in and his wand on the table, then rubbed his eyes under his glasses.
"You need to announce yourself if you're going to start creeping around like that." He dropped his hand from his
face and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Hang on. Since when do you sneak around? You usually pound around,
making as much sound as a giant."

She rolled her eyes and said automatically, "I do not pound around like a giant."
"For a small woman, your footsteps are surprisingly loud."

"Because I walk with purpose."

"So I've heard," Harry smiled.

She looked over at the notebook he'd been writing in and saw it was the ledger. And since he hadn't been holding
his wand when she walked in, he must have been balancing the books by hand again. "There are spells for that."

"I know. I like this way."

"The way prone to errors."

"You can check it when I'm done. Just like you always do." He sounded annoyed, but she could tell by the
amusement flickering in his eyes that it was just a show. They'd had this conversation a hundred times and would
probably have it a hundred more times, and she liked that.

Hermione climbed onto his lap, sitting with her legs hanging over the edge of the chair, and wrapped her arms
around his neck. "You're very old-fashioned."

He pushed a stray curl behind her ear. "I know."

"Or maybe just … old," she teased.

"Well at least I'm not―" he lowered his voice, "―forty-five."

She slapped his chest. "Take it back! No one in this room is forty-five."

"Maybe not now but in a few―"

She silenced him with a kiss.

Harry smiled as he leaned back. "You realize you're just motivating me to say more things that upset you."

"I'll only put up with it for so long before I leave."

Harry wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly in place. "Stay. I promise not to say anything else about
birthdays."

"Actually, I wanted to talk about your birthday."

"What about it? It's done. We had everyone over for dinner, there was a cake, you planned it all, so I'm surprised
you've already forgotten."

"I remember all that, but I never got you a gift."

"Oh. I don't need anything."

Hermione kissed the side of his mouth, then planted kisses along his jaw and neck. "But I got you something,"
she whispered in his ear.

Harry grinned and a chill ran down his spine as she nibbled his earlobe. Brilliant. It was going to be that type of
gift. Well, he'd never say no to that. He grabbed the back of her leg and moved his hand up her skirt. "What did
you get me?" he asked in a low voice as he squeezed her bum.

Hermione climbed off of his lap. Where was she going?

She didn't say anything. She just gave him a mischievous grin, then parted his legs before kneeling between them.
Fuck. It was going to be that sort of gift. He felt himself harden just at the thought of it.
She took her sweet time undoing his trousers, pausing to tease him several times by stroking him through the
fabric. When she finally had his trousers and underwear off, she grabbed him firmly. Harry threw his head back
and had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Shit, it had been too long since they'd done this. Well, this, yes, but
anything, really. Getting all the kids off to Hogwarts had consumed their lives over the past few weeks.

Luckily, she seemed to be finished teasing him and lowered her mouth onto him, gripping the base of his shaft
firmly as she bobbed her head. Harry clutched the armrests of the chair to keep from thrusting into her erratically.
Fuck. He rested his head back and looked up at the ceiling since he knew if he watched her for too long―those
big, brown eyes looking up at him, her gorgeous lips stretched around him, wet from sucking him off―

Dammit. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about it. Focus on the ceiling. Count the panels. One, two, three,
four... She pulled her head up slightly and began circling her tongue around his sensitive tip. Fuck. Then, she
stopped. He chanced a look down at her. She was beaming at him. Then, she enveloped her mouth around him
again.

She was so beautiful and when she met his eyes, he couldn't drag his gaze away again. He could feel his control
slipping. Tension was building in his lower abdomen and he couldn't hold it in much longer―not when she was
looking at him like that. "Hermione. I―I'm…"

"Mmm-hmmm," she said with her mouth still on him, then moved her hands to his balls. That was it. He groaned
as he came, slamming his head back. His release spilled into her mouth and he felt her swallow it, then lick him
dry, but didn't have the wherewithal to lift his head and watch her. He figured it didn't matter, since his vision had
gone temporarily blank.

She returned to his lap, kissing his neck and jaw as he fought his way back to consciousness. As soon as his
strength returned, he turned his head and kissed her deeply. It was the only thing he could think to do to express
his gratitude.

"That was a really good gift," he said a little breathlessly.

She grinned. "There's more."

"I'm not as young as I used to be. I'm going to need a few minutes."

She swatted his chest. "Not that. I have an actual gift." Hermione turned around and picked his wand up from the
side table, then used it to summon something wordlessly. The next moment, a box in silver wrapping zoomed into
the room. Hermione caught it, then turned and handed it to him. "Happy Belated Birthday."

There was an odd look in her eye. Apprehension, fear, almost, and she was biting her lip. She was never nervous.
Well, not when it was just the two of them. Harry looked down at the box.

"Should I be fully clothed for this?"

She let out a laugh, but it was forced. Not a good sign. "Um, sure." Hermione climbed off his lap and handed him
his underwear and trousers. He pulled them on and after fastening his belt, motioned for her to rejoin him in the
chair. She hesitated, but eventually resumed her spot on his lap.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not nervous. I'm excited. I've, uh, had the gift for a long time."

Harry eyed her warily. "You look nervous."

"Just open it!"

Harry tore the paper off, moving quickly to avoid Hermione's wrath. He set the box on her legs and carefully
lifted the lid to reveal deep red fabric. He pulled back the fabric and saw Ron's Deluminator.
"This is Ron's," he said, confused. He reached for the silver object. "I don't think this is yours to―" He cut off
when his hands brushed against something else in the box. He pulled back the fabric, then swore. "Merlin."

The air left his lungs as he wrapped his hands around the familiar jade amulet. It was cool in his palm and he
could almost feel it pulsing, though that may have just been in his head. His heart stalled, but his mind raced as he
struggled to put the pieces together. "Wha―? How―?"

"Remember when I was really poor after our trip? This is why."

"You bought this?" Harry asked, staring open-mouthed at the necklace in his hand. He remembered how much it
had cost back in the other world. Fuck, she must have needed to empty her entire vault. No wonder she'd been so
concerned about money. "So, you always planned― Does this― Does this mean what I think―?" He was
stuttering, unable to form the words.

She nodded slowly. "We can go back, Harry. Once. It's too dangerous to make a habit out of it, because surely
someone will catch on and Obliviate us but … once … especially now that Kingsley has stepped down. That's
what I was waiting for, actually. That, and for the kids to go off to Hogwarts, so we could focus on breaking into
the Department of Mysteries without distraction. I also thought it would be best to wait to ensure their kids were
all at Hogwarts, since we wouldn't want to run into them or anything and I think it's safe to assu―"

His lips crashed into hers and he kissed her fiercely. He moved a hand behind her head while he gripped the
amulet in his other hand, entwining his tongue with hers. Fuck, he loved her. She'd obviously been thinking about
this for a long time. For twenty-three years, to be exact. And she was willing to take that risk again. For him.

At the thought of risks, and everything that could go wrong, he pulled back. She watched him patiently, watching
the different emotions play across his face.

"How dangerous is it?" he asked. This wasn't like before. They had so much more to lose.

Hermione nodded understandingly. "I've been planning the break-in to the Department of Mysteries for over
twenty years. I'm confident we can make it without getting caught. And if we don't―well―Robards owes us. I
think we could beg for forgiveness and he'd let it slide, just this once."

Harry's brow furrowed. She was probably right. They'd helped the Auror department immensely over the years,
providing them innovative protective gear at almost no cost. And now Robards was the Minister for Magic. If
they were caught, they'd be brought to him and the man would probably let them go. Once, like Hermione had
said. And they'd probably have to turn over the amulet and the Deluminator. His heart pounded as the possibility
of seeing his parents again solidified in his mind.

"The only other danger," Hermione continued, "would be getting back to this world."

That was too big of a risk. They had no idea where the amulet would be twenty years later. Or the Deluminator,
for that matter. And they couldn't risk getting stuck there, unable to come back to the kids. The hope that had been
building in Harry disappeared, leaving an empty feeling in his gut. No. They couldn't do it.

Harry was about to open his mouth to say so when Hermione said, "James was planning to buy the amulet and
retrieve the Deluminator again after we left."

"What?"

"He told me, right before we left Godric's Hollow. His intention was clear. He wanted to give us a safe way back
in case we ever decided to return. I never made any promises but, I don't know. I bought the amulet, so we'd have
the option if we wanted it and―well―what do you think?"

Harry leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. He placed his hands on her neck and began rubbing
gentle circles with his thumbs. "I think I don't deserve you," he said hoarsely.

"You do," Hermione said simply. "This is just as much for me as it is for you. I think it will be good for us to get
closure with them. Everything was so rocky between us when we left and I know you wish you could tell them
about us and the kids and―and everything else."

Harry could not believe this was real. This had been his dream since the day he'd married Hermione, to be able to
see his parents one more time and tell them it had all worked out. That he'd got everything he wanted and more.

He'd nearly cracked several times and gone to the Forbidden Forest to find the Resurrection Stone. Or considered
revisiting the Tear in the Veil. But he knew if he did that, he'd only see the dead version of his parents. Those
versions of James and Lily already knew. He wanted to tell the version of his parents that were alive and well,
growing old together in another world. The ones who had promised to remember him and think about him every
day.

Trust Hermione to know the deepest desire of his heart, then do everything in her power to turn that dream into a
reality. Fuck, this was so much better than her other gift, which was saying a lot.

"It seems too good to be true. Doesn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah. I know what you mean. But―what if it works? What if we get to talk to them again? I―I want to try. Will
you come with me?"

Harry nodded as he stared into those beautiful brown eyes. "Where you go, I go."

Godric's Hollow

September 2024

Lily was cataloging their potions ingredients, jotting down the missing items on a piece of parchment so she
could pick them up from the Apothecary later, when a brown barn-owl tapped on the window. She placed her
quill and parchment down before going to open the window.

"What have you got for me?" she asked the owl, turning to summon a treat from the other room. She traded the
letter in the owl's beak for a treat and watched the owl fly out of sight as she opened the envelope, smiling at the
familiar handwriting on the outside.

"Ruby?" James asked when he walked into the room a few minutes later.

Lily nodded as she continued to read the letter. James went to stand behind her, placing his hands on her waist as
he read over her shoulder.

"She's four days into her Sixth Year and is already worried about N.E.W.T.s," Lily said.

"Can't imagine who she got that from," James quipped.

When Lily was finished reading their granddaughter's note, she leaned back against James, who wrapped his arms
around her and propped his chin on her shoulder as he finished the letter. He let out a laugh when he reached the
end. "Ravenclaws for Better Laws?"

"It's some type of activist group she started last year. But I think it only has two members: Jessie, her best friend,
and that Adam bloke, who Harry thinks has a crush on her."

James shook his head. "That girl is her mother."

Lily nodded sadly as she placed the letter on the table.

"Anything from Silas?"

Lily snorted and turned around so she was facing James. "That boy can't be bothered to write letters to Harry, let
alone his grandparents."
"Then maybe I can't be bothered to take him to Quidditch matches during his breaks from school."

Lily smirked. "Do you not already see him enough?"

He shrugged. "Still. A letter now and then would be nice."

"How diligent were you about writing letters when you were at Hogwarts?"

"That's different. I'm on this side of things now."

She opened her mouth to retort when the doorbell rang. "Are you expecting anyone?"

James shook his head.

Lily walked out of his arms and went to answer the door as he followed behind her. When she opened the door,
she found Harry standing outside. "Oh, hey. Did you tell us you were―?"

Her heart stopped when Hermione came up the steps behind him. "Merlin," she whispered. It was them.

She threw herself at Harry first, wrapping her hands around his neck tightly. She didn't know if she'd ever see him
again. She and James had hoped―they'd bought the amulet and kept it safe, and they never moved, so Harry and
Hermione would know where to find them, just in case. And now, miraculously, they were here. Both of them.
Sobs began to shake her body.

Harry held her firmly in his arms as he whispered in a shaky voice, "Hi, Mum."

As mother and son reunited, James stepped past them until he was standing in front of Hermione. He studied her
intently, half-expecting her to disappear if he looked away. "Took you long enough," he said, voice strained.

Her expression softened, then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle. The familiar feeling
of her tight embrace threatened to break him. "I missed you too, James."

He stood frozen for several moments and Hermione almost stepped back. Then he wrapped his arms around her
and she sighed with relief.

A few moments later, before Hermione was ready for it, she was standing before Lily. The witch was undeniably
older―which made sense, so was Hermione. But Lily was just as beautiful as ever. Her thick red hair, streaked
with grey, was down, flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and she was beaming widely as tears
streamed down her face. Hermione's heart caught. Damn, she looked like Hazel. It was so much more apparent
now that she was seeing the older witch in person.

Lily reached out and brushed her fingers through Hermione's curls. "I don't―Oh Merlin―I just can't―" She
paused to take a long breath "Did you keep your promise?" she asked, her words hard to make out through her
tears. "Did you stay by him?"

Hermione grinned. "I married him, Lily. We have three gorgeous kids who are all at Hogwarts now. We have
incredible friends and great jobs. We made a beautiful life together. That's what we came to tell you. And I know
a spell that can turn memories into pictures, so I can leave behind a pile of photos, if you want."

Lily let out a teary laugh. "Of course you know a spell." She struggled through several more shaky breaths, then
placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "I know this is probably years overdue, but welcome to the family,
Hermione."

The tears Hermione had been holding in finally fell as Lily pulled her into a crushing hug.

The End
Chapter End Notes

A/N: First off, thanks to my beta, Lancashire Witch, who loves Dramione, but reads everything I write
anyway and even told me once she'd read a Filch fic if I wrote it (wow, that's love). She's the best.

This was so much fun to write. It was my love letter to world travel, personal growth, family, and, of course,
Harry and Hermione. It covered a range of so many emotions and became much larger than I ever intended,
but I love the end product and hope all you do too! Thanks to everyone who read, liked, favorited, kudo'ed,
commented, or engaged with this story in any way.

I'm not ready to leave behind these worlds I created yet, so there will be several more stories in this universe.
If you want to read about the AU Harry and Hermione’s love story and learn about the genesis of the rift
between them and Jily, check out Bonded for Life.

Come be my friend on social media! Here are my fanfic accounts, where you can find updates on any active
WIPs. And my author accounts have info about my published works. Come ask questions, say hi, or just lurk
around. Thanks for the continued support!
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