Harry sensed that the chamber in which he stood was not large, yet there was a perception of vastness beyond comprehension. It reminded Harry of Arthur's enchanted Ford Anglia, increased exponentially. Harry believed that the whole of Hogwarts castle, if not the very mountain on which it sat, could fit easily into this modest chamber.
A soft radiance surrounded Harry, a light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. As he stood motionless, listening with more than ear, he seemed to hear...a pulse. The light was resonating...breathing. It was alive in some mysterious way, alive with magic and...what? Harry mentally shook himself. Here were secrets not meant to be unraveled by human thought. The how and the why did not matter. This was real and undeniable. The Chamber in which he stood was, in very truth, a living thing; and its heart, its soul, was the Crystal.
Quickly learning not to rely upon the physical in this occult setting, Harry reached out with his inner eye and spied that which he sought: The Soul Crystal. Its size he could not determine, for distance was an illusion. It seemed miles away, yet close enough to reach out and touch.
The Crystal throbbed silently with unimaginable power. But, even as Dumbledore had said, it was a benign power, nurturing, its strength like unto the embrace of a loving parent. And as he stood in its presence, Harry knew he did not fear this thing of wondrous magical creation. He was ready. And though he could not see through the magical light-mist to the far side of the Chamber, he did not doubt that Hermione was standing even as was he.
Harry instinctively spread his arms in a gesture of complete surrender. As if in acceptance, the Chamber tugged at him. Harry no longer felt the stone floor under his feet. It was not that Harry had risen; rather the floor, walls and ceiling had dissolved away. The Soul Chamber was now a Universe in and of itself. And Harry -- Harry was become All, and Nothing. He was no longer flesh clad in robes; he was free, naked Spirit. He was the Universe, and the Universe was Harry Potter.
There was no sensation of motion. There was no wind whipping his hair, no weightlessness in the pit of his stomach, as when he flew his broomstick. But he must be moving in some manner, for the Crystal seemed closer now, its light more intense, its power tangible. Harry felt waves of magic washing over him like a warm tide. The whole aspect was womb-like as Harry floated in a cosmic sea whose shores were the limits of rational thought.
Harry felt a touch upon his mind. It was a caress, an embrace; a kiss without lips, and a promise without words.
"Hermione," Harry's mind called out.
"Harry," came the reply.
The two lovers drifted inexorably one toward the other, borne as floss on a Summer breeze. Their incorporeal hands outstretched, they met and embraced, yet did not touch. Like silver mist on a moor, they flowed together, into and through each other, the Soul Crystal at the apex of their joined hearts so that its fire burned within them. Merging with the Crystal, they became one. There was no Harry Potter, no Hermione Granger. They were a single entity, flowing through one another like the sands of two shattered hourglasses until none could say where the one ended and the other began.
Feeling exhilaratingly free of every trace of fear and restraint, Harry opened the depths of his soul to Hermione, even as she to him. In an explosion greater than that of a dying star, yet with the gentleness of a baby's sigh, two souls became one.
And, as with a single voice, two souls cried.
Her eyes jerking wide, Hermione Granger stared out from the face of Harry Potter. There was a peal of hideous laughter, a flash of green light, a searing pain between her eyes. Screaming silently, Hermione folded her arms around her as she attempted to shut out the green incandescence and replace it with blessed darkness. But when the darkness came, it was not a blessing, but a curse. The gray shadows of a dank, spider-haunted broom cupboard pressed in on her as despair washed over her like cold rain. And in that interminable darkness, Hermione found that, try as she might, she could not weep. She felt only emptiness, without, and -- most terrible of all -- within.
The eyes of Harry potter burned with tears, of humiliation, of heartbreaking loneliness. His heart aching with desolation, he stumbled blindly for a place where he could shut out the world and its cruel, heartless laughter. But the next moment his tear-swollen eyes froze in gaping horror as a huge, stinking monster with stony gray skin loomed over him, its bludgeon lashing out to dash his brains to red porridge. Shuddering mournfully, he wept in his soul and prayed silently for deliverance.
In the dank tunnels deep under Hogwarts, Hermione screamed in the shadow of the stone image of Salazar Slytherin as the basilisk's saber-like fang splintered in her arm, sending venom coursing through her veins like fire from the devil's very cauldron.
Harry felt that same vile serpent's terrible, cold stare stab into his eyes like needles of flaming ice. His body seized in a paralysis bordering on death, painless, but the more fearsome for that. Staring out through sightless eyes, his lips unable to voice the scream of horror reverberating in his chill, enmarbled heart, Harry shuddered from the depths of his soul and wept tears that would not, could not, escape.
Moment by moment, eternity by eternity, the sands that were Harry Potter and Hermione Granger sifted. Two souls interwove in a manner indescribable and inconceivable. In this magical crucible, no remotest corner was hid, no deepest fear nor buried pain unrevealed. Each saw the other in stark relief, in sharpness to slice flesh and pierce heart and soul. And through it all the two clung one to the other. There was no consideration of retreat, no withholding, no hesitation. As each soul-wound was opened, it was as quickly closed by the healing balm of pure, flawless love.
And as suddenly as it began, it was over. The pain was no more. It was replaced by gentle waves that caressed Harry's mind and heart. If the essence of love could be given corporeal form, it would feel like this, Harry thought. The sensation flowed through him, imbuing him with an all-enveloping feeling of contentment such as he had never known.
But no, that was not true. He had known such a feeling, more times than he could count. It was the feeling that came over him every time he held Hermione in his arms. But those blissful moments had been a mere shadow of the feeling permeating him now. For they were embracing now on a level beyond the worldly and the physical. They were One now. He knew it with a certainty beyond reason and understanding. His soul and Hermione's were one and the same, inseparable, for all time.
With a sudden burst of soundless fury, the mist surrounding Harry exploded with the force of a supernova. Blackness descended upon the instant, total, engulfing Night.
Harry's eyes snapped open. He blinked, shook his head, but despite his best efforts to bring his surroundings into focus, he beheld only an indistinct blur. A wave of dizziness passed over him, and he sank to his knees, thence to all fours. His outspread hands encountered cool, damp stone. He drew a long breath, lifted his head. A soft, pulsing light throbbed not ten feet in front of him. Its source was a crystal the size of a dragon's egg which sat upon a pedestal of wrought gold. Runes and symbols were etched into the soft metal, as well as tiny figures, all of which seemed to dance to the rhythmic heartbeat of the Soul Crystal's ethereal light.
Rising to his knees, Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His glasses once more back in place, he stood up, his brain pulsing distractingly in time to the silent throb of the Crystal. A voice in the back of his mind screamed. WHERE WAS HERMIONE? His heart skipped a beat. Had he been guilty of the arrogance of which Snape had always been so ready to accuse him? Was his triumph premature, his journey yet unfulfilled? No. He was not mistaken. All doubt had been left behind in the Corridor. He knew this with unshakable certainty. But again he asked himself: Where was Hermione?
A sudden thought struck him. Where was the candle whose beckoning light he had followed unerringly to this place of magic and wonder? As if jerked by an invisible cord, his head snapped upwards. The candle was hovering above and before him at the edge of the vaulted ceiling, its flickering light sending shadows capering across the mosaic of the ancient stones. Harry got the uncanny impression that it was waiting for him. Even as he thought this, the flame pulsed brightly for a moment, as if acknowledging his scrutiny. Slowly, smoothly, the candle began to move, swinging around the Soul Crystal like a satellite orbiting its parent star. As he had done since journey's beginning, Harry followed. As his bare feet slid across the smooth stones, his concentration upon the flame of his candle was so intense that it was several seconds before he noticed a second flame approaching his own. His heart leaped.
"Hermione."
A figure appeared around the edge of the Soul Crystal, face glowing dimly in the magical twilight under a crown of bushy brown hair. Following her own candle, Hermione glided forward, the eagerness on her face implying that she would have broken into a run had she not felt compelled, even as Harry, to maintain the pace set by her magical herald.
Though all doubt was cold, dead ash in his mind and heart, Harry yet wondered that there had been as yet no tangible sign that he and Hermione had indeed been Joined. As the space between bride and groom slowly closed, their candles drifted inexorably one toward the other until they hovered less than a hand's breadth apart. The scene held for a moment, then the candles slowly inclined, tilting toward each other as if bowing. Ultimately, the tips touched, the two flames now burning as one. As Harry and Hermione looked on with faces radiant from more than the Chamber's magical illumination, the bodies of the two candles slid together as if the wax of which they were composed were liquid and not solid. A moment later, a single candle hovered between the two lovers, its flame growing brighter by the moment, as if striving to equal the glow of love suffusing the faces of the man and woman who were, now and forever, Joined.
The flame of the unified candle now cast a circle of golden radiance upon the stone floor. Acting as with a single thought, Harry and Hermione stepped into that enchanted circle, the candle hovering directly above them. Harry held out his hands, felt Hermione's soft touch as their fingers curled and locked with gentle yet unbreakable fastness. Their eyes met, sharing an embrace that ran to the depths of their souls.
"We did it, love," Harry said in a throaty whisper. "Looks like we're stuck with each other. What do you say, then? Shall we have a bash?"
"Ready when you are, lover," Hermione beamed.
As their linked hands exchanged a squeeze of promise and hope, the flame hovering above them expanded, leaping out to
envelop the Joined couple in a magical, engulfing embrace. An instant later, the stone confines of the Soul Chamber lay
empty save for the pulsing Crystal at its heart.