Chapter Five
Light rushed around him, and with a force entirely magical, was thrown some distance and onto a hard floor. He wasn't sure if it was the ground, or the castle. He didn't really care.
He had felt the world topple around him, and now he laid there, his soul in tatters. He could lie there for always, he knew it. And he would have, had a soft gravelly voice not wafted past him.
"Harry..."
The voice broke his grief-induced stupor and he was on his feet, hands shaking as he balled them into fists.
"Why did you let that HAPPEN!?"
Dumbledore looked to Harry calmly, and he offered him his hand.
"You are back home, Harry. You are back where you belong."
Harry looked to Dumbledore, to his hand, putting it altogether. He ignored the hand entirely, striding forward and collapsing into the old man's arms. Any other time he would have felt completely stupid doing such a thing to Dumbledore, but as he had looked into his eyes, he'd seen a complete understanding there, a knowing. He was the only one in the world who would understand, and as such he could be the one to shoulder Harry's grief.
They stood there for a long time, Harry sobbing into his headmaster's shoulder, and when Harry felt a dull numbness instead of the aching raw pain, he stepped back, looking quite apologetic for his behaviour.
"S-sorry," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "I just - I"
"I completely understand, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "I have seen what you saw. I know the atrocities that haunt you."
Harry's mouth worked soundlessly a moment, and looking about himself, he found a chair and collapsed into it.
"It was awful... it was utterly awful..."
Dumbledore nodded, sitting down in his chair and pushing a hot cup of tea across his table towards Harry. Harry frowned.
"How- how long was I gone?"
"You were not gone any time," said Dumbledore. "The vision was only momentary. That is the cup of tea I made you a moment ago."
Harry gulped, shuddering. "I felt like I was gone two days."
Dumbledore nodded. "The Pool was built so that the participant does not lose any time. One stays as long as they need, and can leave at will."
"Then why didn't I leave when things started going wrong?" asked Harry incredulously.
"Think, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Did you really want to?"
He looked down, shaking his head shamefully. "No. I wanted to..." He felt his cheeks burning as he thought about his reasons for not wanting to leave. "I wanted to take Hermione with me. To stay with her."
"Aah... one must keep their wits about them upon entering the world of the Pool," he said. "And in every moment therein, wish to leave its secrets behind."
"That's the trick, isn't it?" asked Harry. "If you're happy with what you see, you'll stay there... you'll..."
"Wither away," supplied Dumbledore. "Or go mad."
"How could you let me risk something like that?" asked Harry, voice rising a little in panic.
Dumbledore looked over the top of his glasses, eyes twinkling. "If I told you not to look into it, I daresay you would have found a way to look into it despite my wishes. You are that sort of lad."
Guilt swept through Harry as he realised that Dumbledore was absolutely right. The thought of being able to see what life would be like with his parents would have eaten away at him until he'd gone crazy.
"This way," said Dumbledore, "I could at least advise you, supervise you, and counsel you upon your return."
Harry nodded silently. He thought about it all, hand resting on the saucer of the teacup in front of him. He took the tea, sipping it pensively, and after a moment, stared about the office. It was the same as always, the portrait subjects snoring soundly, Fawkes in the corner, watching him with keen yet gentle eyes. He looked back to Professor Dumbledore, his reason for looking into the Pool of Possibilities in the first place flooding back to him.
"My ... my vision, you called it ... I was supposed to see a world where Voldemort didn't exist... where he wasn't born!"
"And you did," said Dumbledore. As Harry looked confused, Dumbledore lifted a hand. "Let me explain. In the world you saw, bloodline purity was of the utmost importance."
"But how-"
"There was a most fragile period of time between the dissension of the Founders of Hogwarts, and their eventual expulsion of Salazar Slytherin. In that timeline, Slytherin murdered Godric Gryffindor before any dissension occurred." Dumbledore sniffed, looking down to his cup of tea a moment. "Over a disagreement about a curse, of all things." He looked back to Harry. "Because of this, his main opponent was cleared from the field, and being the most powerful wizard left at the school, Slytherin was able to run it his way, despite the protests of his peers. He influenced generations of wizards, teaching them dark magic, and slowly, those that thought like him gained important positions in wizard authorities and publications." He shrugged, clasping his hands together. "They say that history is written by the victors. It seems that it is also shaped by the victors. With Salazar's contribution, Muggles and Muggle-borns were viciously discriminated against, kept under the wizard's heel. As such, there was no need for the young Tom Riddle to turn sour and become the Lord Voldemort you and I know. He remained Riddle and with such fine heritage had no troubles becoming the Minister of Magic. So, in essence... Voldemort was never born."
"I asked the wrong question," Harry said darkly, staring at his tea. "I should have asked it differently..."
"No, Harry," said Dumbledore. "There is no right question. Life takes the path it will for reasons we do not understand. It is unwise to try to make sense of it, for you will go mad. Many have before." He leant forward, meeting Harry's sad gaze, narrowing his eyes so that they twinkled. "Know that you follow the best course it can manage, and that there are blessings around you that you haven't counted for being distracted by your curses."
Damn it. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have ignored all the good things? How come it took that God-awful vision in the Pool of Possibilities for him to understand what Dumbledore was saying? He felt like an utter idiot, but at the same time he felt so very lucky and charmed that he couldn't bear to think about it any longer without wallowing in it. Harry's heart thumped thickly in his chest, and he jumped to his feet, nodding.
"You're - you're right." He gulped, glancing to the Pool, and then back to Dumbledore. "Thanks for letting me see my parents."
Dumbledore smiled warmly, nodding.
Without another word Harry raced from the room, bound and determined to find his most treasured blessing of all.
~~*~~
He was halfway down the corridor from the Entrance Hall to Gryffindor Tower when someone bowled into him, propelled forward even harder by a bag almost splitting with books. He staggered, bumping into the wall, while the person whose limbs he was tangled in growled lightly.
"Oh for heaven's sakes, watch where you're- Harry!"
Dear God, she looked so incredibly beautiful. Her skin was soft and pink and warm looking, her eyes bright, her hair wild, her body strong and unhurt. He grabbed her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her with all his worth.
"Harry!" she cried, gurgling a little at the force of his embrace, "What are you-"
He leant back, taking a look at her surprised face, and laughing, he hugged her again, sighing happily.
"You are the most wonderful human being in the entire world, and I love you so much," he sighed.
She wriggled out of his arms, frowning and gasping at him. "Harry! Are you all right?!" She put her hand on his brow, then on his cheeks and neck, and satisfied that he wasn't running a fever, sniffed about him.
Harry let her do this, smiling blissfully at the attention.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked. "You didn't turn up for Potions, Snape is furious!"
"Dumbledore will cover for me," he said. "I was..." His smile drifted away, and he leant against the wall behind him, sighing. "I was upset about Sirius."
Her mouth dropped open, and she sighed softly. She tilted her head, putting a hand on his shoulder, saying nothing.
"We'll go somewhere," he said, wrapping his hands around the one on her shoulder. "I'll tell you about -- well... it'll take a while to explain."
Hermione nodded, frowning a little in curiosity. "All right."
~~*~~
It was very early autumn, and summer had been lingering as if unwilling to leave the rough tumbling highlands. The days had been warm, but the nights had been increasingly chilly. A soft thick woolen blanket lay beneath them, and they both wore warm cloaks and wrapped themselves in blankets, looking back at Hogwarts blinking warmly across the lake. Their chilly aerie amongst the shoulders of the mountains hugging the lake was a place Harry had come to often to think, and he would have gotten in trouble for such a thing except for the fact that it was just inside Hogwarts' magical boundaries. His beloved broom lay nearby, as did their wands and a plate of pumpkin pasties and mince pies from Dobby, who had refused to let them go wandering off from a direction other than the Great Hall for their dinner without a good meal to take with them. (The little elf popped up at the most unfortunate, or perhaps in this case fortunate, times). On a rock in front of them was perched a lantern, and a soft warm orange glow lit the scene, stretching over and around them like an embrace.
Harry huddled to Hermione, both of them trying to keep warm inside their blankets, and he told her about his inability to face Snape, about Dumbledore seeing him on the steps and inviting him into his office, about the Pool of Possibilities and all that took place in the magical world within. It was hard to tell her what happened after the match, and he deliberately skipped over any romantic moments between himself and the other Hermione. He didn't want her to learn of his feelings in such a way.
A chill wind whipped about them, and they both shuddered, huddling like little penguins. He grimaced in the cold, and he lifted his arm, wrapping it tightly around her. She settled to him, a blush in her cheeks (from the cold or the proximity, he didn't care which), and he went on.
"They left me there with you, and you uhm," He frowned, trying to clear the soreness from his throat. "You didn't make it."
Hermione breathed the softest, "Oh..."
He nodded. There was a solemn silence for a moment, and Harry pulled his arms tighter around her, nuzzling into the nape of her neck and sighing deeply. He felt her hand run over his head, down to the arm around her, and she clutched it. He looked up, meeting her eyes.
"When you... when you died I felt like everything inside me died." He shuddered a sigh, feeling his eyes prick with tears. "I couldn't breathe... I didn't even want to live."
Hermione's brows tilted, tears welling in her own brown eyes. "Harry..."
"I don't ever want to feel that again... ever." He let out an aching sigh, closing his eyes tightly and leaning his forehead against hers.
They stayed like that a moment, until Hermione wound about, wrapping her arms about him and leaning her head on his shoulder, settling to his form, tangling her legs amongst his under their blankets. It was a warm, tight and secure embrace, and Harry savoured each moment as the first and last.
He tilted his head, a frown creasing his brows. "Hermione..."
"Hmm?"
He shifted a little to meet her eyes. "W-would you have done that?"
She frowned. "Done what?"
"What the other Hermione did."
Her frown cleared and licked her lips, swallowing nervously. "Yes."
His eyes fell shut, and he sighed deeply. "Promise me you won't."
"I can't, Harry," she said, tightening her arms around him.
He shook his head, fighting the tears in his eyes, a fear rising in him that he'd feel that pain all over again.
"I couldn't take it if I lost you," he said, gazing at the vista before him. "I couldn't - I think I'd go mad."
"Hey..."
He looked to her, and she snuggled closer, eyeing him.
"Did it ever occur to you that I feel the same way?"
His cheeks flushed, her brown eyes glinting in a way entirely unmistakable. He had barely slid a hand to her shoulder and she'd already leant in, parting her lips ever-so-slightly. He tilted his head, pulling her to him and taking her lips in his, sighing deeply in relief, in utter joy and delirium that she wasn't gone, that she was in his arms and it was the same Hermione he'd always adored. She tilted her head underneath him, opening her lips, searing a promise with her caresses that she wasn't going to abandon him, ever.
He returned that promise with his own lips, and in the little heaven they had in that second, wrapped up in blankets on a blustery Scottish hilltop, everything was perfect. For a time, their life paths had found a beautiful moment to rest together.
~~*~~
Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the past day and visions within his mind a blur. He knew he wouldn't sleep well, however, unless one last loose string was tied off and snipped accordingly. He waited patiently, knowing Ron was busy studying with Lavender this evening. The redhead had been worried about Harry too, but Harry had left word for him and said he'd meet him later.
It was later and Harry missed the silly bastard.
After a little while longer of waiting, Ron stomped into the room with his usual laddish air, his eyes popping wider as he saw Harry lying on the bed.
"Hey! I was dead worried about you! You all right?"
Harry nodded, and this time around when he explained things, his heart didn't ache so much, for the memories of Hermione in the here and now warmed and comforted him more than anything else could. As he finished, Ron sat there, mouth hanging open, shock on his face.
"I... I was awful!"
"It wasn't your fault," said Harry. "I mean... if Salazar Slytherin practically shaped the culture
of the Wizarding World as we knew it, then it's just obvious that people would be like that, even the good
people... right? I mean... you get angry at the Death Eaters and that lot. You wouldn't hex them without a second
thought."
Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah but I wouldn't be cruel - I wouldn't want to kill them."
"You would if they were threatening the world you knew," said Harry. "I was doing that. I mean, if it were this world, I may as well have been publicly claiming my belief in Voldemort's ideas."
Flinching a little, Ron nodded. "Yeah... I guess so. I dunno. It still bothers me."
"Hey..." Harry smacked him fondly on the shoulder. "As long as you're a good person here and now,
it doesn't matter what happens in some wonky reality made up in a silver bowl, does it?"
Ron wrung his lips, looking doubtful.
"Would you betray me, Ron? Would you leave me to die?"
Ron met Harry's eyes and shook his head. "No. Never."
"Then it's not an issue," said Harry, and he smiled. "Okay?"
"Yeah..."
Walking about his bed, Ron began to get ready for sleep. He frowned as he got changed for bed, and as he climbed into his covers, he looked over to Harry, who was already settled down and ready to drift off.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
He frowned. "If you lived all that... Me being an arsehole and Hermione hating you and... and then not hating you and dying in your arms... how can you be so calm now?"
Harry rolled over to look at Ron. "It still hurts but... it's like waking up from a bad dream, you know? And I know that things are different here. We're stronger than them, Ron, because we care about each other. I've got Hermione and she's not going anywhere. And I've got you too."
Ron nodded, and a warm smile drifted sleepily across his features. "Well... I'm glad you're 'back' mate. Here's to tomorrow, eh?" Smiling broadly, he rolled over, settling down to sleep.
Harry smiled faintly, rolling onto his back and gazing at the ceiling. He missed Sirius more than words could say, but unlike all the other times when he thought about it, the feelings of rage and the futility of life did not accompany the memories. He still felt cheated, still wondered if it could all possibly true, yet at the same time he had hope that not everything would be so bleak. After all he had seen he had the strange sensation that for him, things were actually on a pretty good footing. It was madness, as he knew he'd felt like the world had fallen down about his ears and abandoned him for months, but thinking about the world he was in, the friends he had, the girl he loved... it wasn't so bad. Sure, there were some pretty heavy things to deal with. He knew now, however, that with all his blessings behind him, he could deal with it. It was a world that deserved nothing less than his best efforts to preserve it.
He rolled over, closed his eyes and remembered warm kisses on a windy Scottish night.
Finally, after two months of pain, he looked forward to tomorrow.
~~*~~