Altered Perceptions

A/N: This seems to be AU Harry Potter, but any Fanfiction is. This is post Hogwarts and is indeed Harry Potter ...

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Another popup window flashed to the foreground as his search for answers on the internet continued. The computer whined out another irritating bit of music that sounded like the music they blare over department store and elevator speakers.

“Blast it!” He said angrily. With one fluid motion, the software engineering manager of MacroCorp closed the offending advertisement and the beeps and buzzes cut off. “Why is it that everywhere you go these days, a pornography ad pops up and opens twenty more windows on your desktop?!”

“Hey, Scott, calm down.” Scott Walker’s officemate said calmly. “What is it you’re looking for anyway?”

Scott turned and sighed. “It’s my fifth wedding anniversary today. I’m trying to find this particular ring that Annie was gawking over at Friedman’s Jewelers last year.”

Mike Anderson’s curious smile slipped into a sympathetic frown almost imperceptibly as his friend of three years explained what he was up to.

“Scott, you and Annie haven’t been husband and wife for the past six months.”

Scott’s face fell at the comment and he sighed quietly. “I-I know ...” He said in defeat. “I guess I’d forgotten ... I just saw her the other day, Mike. She’s looking good. I guess being single agrees with her, eh?”

Mike crossed the room and put a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Hey, I know it hasn’t been easy on you.” His face was full of concern for the depressed man in front of him. “You can’t keep denying that she’s gone, man.”

Scott nodded curtly and shut down his machine. “Listen, I’m going to skip the rest of the day, it’s only another half hour or so ...”

“Hey, why don’t we get Jim and hit Hooters tonight?” Mike said with a grin. “I hear Marcy is going to be working tonight.”

Scott laughed at the far away look that crossed his friend’s face. He’d been pining over Marcy for close to a year now, ever since the three friends had run into her during their lunch break.

“That’s ok, why don’t you and Jim enjoy yourselves.” Scott said with a laugh. “I think I’m going to head on home and read something.”

“You need to get out more.” Mike said with a hint of irritation in his voice. “You’ve turned down every invitation we’ve extended to you for the past eight months. We just don’t want to see you waste away anymore, you need to get out there and try to forget.”

Scott shook his head and sighed. “I’m not ready to go anywhere just yet. Well, maybe I’ll hit the bookstore and pick up something new since I’ve run out of any fresh reading material around my apartment.”

“Well, since you’ve clearly not gone out and gotten this yourself and tomorrow is your birthday and all ...” Mike said with a grin. “Happy birthday early!” He pulled a bag from somewhere behind his desk and handed it over.

“How many times do I have to tell you ...”

“‘You don’t have to get me anything for my birthday’ ... Yeah, yeah, I know.” Mike said as his eyes rolled into his head. “Too bad, now open the damn thing and get to reading like you planned!”

Scott smiled and reached into the decorative sack. After passing the several layers of colorful tissue, he pulled out a boxed set of books. “The Harry Potter series?” He said with a look of disdain on his face. “You know I don’t like witchcraft!”

“This isn’t like that, Scott.” Mike huffed in frustration. “Listen, it’s about a boy who ends up saving the world from an evil wizard. Not unlike the Lord of the Rings, which I have to say fifty readings of is a little bit obnoxious.”

“It’s a story about friendship and the trials of life!” Scott retorted with a laugh.

“This story is the same thing then, only set in present times.” Mike returned with a grin. “So, it should be right up there with that relic of a story Tolkien gave us.”

Scott laughed. “Ok, ok. I’ll read the blasted series!” He smiled in defeat and looked towards his friend. “Thanks for the gift.”

“No problem. Now get out of here and enjoy the weekend with your new series.”

Scott walker tucked his new books under his arm and grabbed his suit jacket as he left the room. Being department head had its privileges and one of the better perks was being able to take off early on Friday afternoon. Within a few minutes, he was down the hall and riding the express elevator to the ground floor. The security guard waved to him as he left and he quickly found his car in the parking lot.

A very uneventful drive to his apartment ensued and just after an hour passed, Scott was dressed in a particularly worn pair of sweat pants and a rumpled T-shirt. There was nothing but court shows and news on at the moment so the television remained silent. With a sideways glance to the box of books he’d just received, Scott sighed and removed the plastic wrap.

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” He read aloud. “Why is the U.S. such an idiotic country? From the description, this is definitely supposed to be about the Philosopher’s Stone.” Dreading what else was edited to suit the ignorance of the American populace, he opened the cover of the book and began to read.

Scott was unaware of the amount of time that had passed since he’d picked up the first book but he found that he was unable to put it down. “It’s not Snape, you dolts! Well, I guess that their age makes it difficult for them to see what’s really happening ...”

The birdsong that was carrying on outside was the only indication that time had indeed passed much more quickly than Scott had anticipated. He got off the couch and stretched gingerly, letting out a groan of pleasure. “Gah! I can’t believe I read the first three books already!” He straightened himself and looked appraisingly at the remaining four that still lay in their cardboard housing. “Looks like Goblet of Fire waits till later.”

With a few wobbling steps, Scott made his way to his bed in the other room and collapsed in a heap. Within minutes he was sound asleep with the thoughts of broomsticks and trolls racing through his mind.

He didn’t make a sound as he looked up the two steps that separated the sunken living room from the dining room in his small apartment. The woman in front of him was smiling seductively and with a raised hand, beckoned for him to join her.

Scott rose from his seat on the couch and walked over to his beautiful wife. His hands slid up her silk-laden sides and he could feel the soft skin under the smooth fabric of her nightgown. His hands made their way to her hips and with a groan of pleasure he pulled her into him, her arms encircling his neck as she smiled sweetly.

He looked into her deep brown eyes and watched as her long, curly, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. He smiled and inched his face to hers.

Scott snapped awake to the sound of the telephone and grumbled. “Why does the phone always ring at that point?” He cursed as he lifted the receiver.

“Scott?” The woman’s voice asked on the other end.

“Annie? Is something wrong?” He asked with concern.

“N-no ...” She replied nervously.

“Ok. What can I do for you?” His tone changed to a more business like one that caused him to grimace slightly. “Sorry, I was just taking a nap.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I woke you.” She said hurriedly. “I can talk to you later if that’s ok.”

“No, that’s fine, I’m up now.” He sighed.

“I was just wondering what you were up to tonight.” She said quietly. “I was a little lonely is all.”

“Annie, you know what today is.” He said softly. “I don’t think it’ll be a good idea for us to do anything tonight. We’d just end up right back where we were six months ago and I don’t think either of us wants to relive that pain.”

“I know you’re right, Scottie. I just wish things were different.”

“So do I, Annie, but you know that I can’t give you children and that’s what you wanted.” He rubbed his face in an attempt to clear his mind. He looked at the clock and sighed. It’s already been eight hours?

“I-I know, Scott. Well, I’ll let you go then.” Annie said quietly.

“Goodnight, Annie.” Scott replied and after she mirrored his goodbye he heard the dial tone blaring over the handset. With a sigh, he hung up the phone and crawled out of bed.

Scott found himself in front of the bathroom sink splashing cold water on his face and looking himself over in the mirror. His reddish hair was starting to show signs of gray and since he’d started shaving again, the wrinkles of old age were starting to display themselves. His piercing blue eyes roamed across his features and he couldn’t help but wonder why it felt it was the first time he’d seen himself.

In his thirty-five years of life, he’d always felt like there was something wrong with him but he could clearly recall the changes he went through as he grew into the man that was standing in his bathroom. Ignoring the pangs of low self-esteem that started to cloud his mind, Scott pulled out his toothbrush and set about his nightly routine.

A few minutes later after he had replaced his electric shaver in its cradle, he walked back to the living room and slipped on his shoes. Scott grabbed the garbage bag that he’d set next to the door earlier, grabbed his keys, and set out for the dumpster across the street. He’d just tossed the bag into the metal container when the strangest feeling came over him.

He scanned the darkness quickly as he felt the apprehension and fear build in him. Scott was never one to admit his fears but for the past five years he felt as if something were watching him from the shadows. He’d first felt the queasiness when he moved in with Annie after their wedding. He had been in the back lot looking at the stars twinkling down at him when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. That same feeling was giving him goose bumps at this very moment and with a hurried step and a desperate sense of awareness, Scott made his way back to his apartment and unlocked the door. He looked at the building across the street and glanced along the rooftop before stepping nervously through the door and locking it securely.

He didn’t bother to turn the lights on and went directly to a window. There wasn’t anyone out there and the feeling he’d just experienced died away as quickly as it had arrived. There was a clatter down the road as a small group of teenagers kicked a tin can into the gutter but nothing else moved or made any sound.

“I’ve really got to get over this fear of the dark bit ... Werewolves and vampires ... Right.” He huffed as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. If he thought he was wide awake when his ex-wife called, he was absolutely bouncing with all the extra adrenaline that was coursing through his veins now.

The television brought little solace to him and he looked to the books that were waiting for him to read them. “Goblet of Fire it is.” He said with a smile. The hours slipped by him again and by the time he realized he was hungry he realized that he’d read the fourth book and made a good dent in the fifth. Not willing to put the book away for long, Scott grabbed a T.V. dinner and after a few minutes in the microwave an empty plastic bowl was adorning his coffee table.

The sixth and seventh books went quickly the next day and he could only sit and stare at the now completed series that was sitting before him. He had to admit that the Harry Potter series was something completely different than what he’d expected and found that he longed for more.

“There’s got to be more.” He said with a sigh. Within moments he was on his computer scanning the net for any glimpse of rumors to the continuation of the series. He met dead end after dead end as interviews with the author all indicated that the seventh was the final book in the series and she was working on other projects not related to the Harry Potter line.

“Well, there is fan fiction.” He said with a grimace. Pictures of overweight, nerdy fan boys writing about how they found a way into their favorite series flitted through his mind. Invariably, the stories would involve them having sex with the oversexed heroines that ran rampant through comic books and video games.

After a few minutes, he’d come across a few promising sites and shortly thereafter was engrossed in some of the best amateur writing he’d read.

The weeks and months went by but a nagging feeling kept hounding his every thought and every move. It felt as if something was missing from the top of his spine, somewhere around the back of his neck, and he was very disconcerted. Scott knew this wasn’t anything physically wrong, but more like there was a large part of his life that he was missing.

The stress these new feelings brought to him, coupled with a large project that had just been finalized and shipped off to be implemented had drained his emotional and mental resources to the point of madness. He found himself in a vegetative state in front of his computer reading more and more fan created stories and a familiar longing overtook him.

This particular night, Scott found himself on the phone waiting for the only person he’d ever confided in to pick up, which to his relief happened on the fourth ring just as he was about to hang up.

“Hello?”

“Andrea, Hi!” Scott said with a smile plastered across his face.

“Scott? How have you been? I haven’t heard from you since you and Annie split! Why so long, Mister?!” Andrea replied with a laugh.

“I just got caught up in the whole Potter-mania thing.” He said with a laugh. “Excellent, excellent series. The books are much better than the movie as is always the case.”

“I’ll say! I still can’t believe she’s not writing anymore!”

“I know! I’ve been consoling myself with fan fiction of all things ...” He laughed at the groan on the other end of the line. “There is actually some really well written stuff out there. I read this triad of stories about Hermione having a memory charm put on her and Voldemort fooling Harry that he’d actually killed her. She was actually in the States living a lie ... That was one wonderful story ...”

“That sounds kind of weird.” Andrea said with a laugh.

“I’m not saying you should run out and read the stuff. But it’s something to keep you in the spirit.” He laughed.

“So is anything else on your mind? It can’t just be books ... God knows I’d kill you if all you did was talk about what you’d just read every time we’ve talked.”

Scott was silent for a few minutes as he mulled the possibilities over in his mind. “You know how I’d get restless and just look at a map to decide where to go next?” He asked finally.

“Yeah. Didn’t you do that when you moved to Colorado?” She asked.

“Indeed I did. You listen well.” Scott chuckled. “Well, I’m starting to feel that urge to get away again, like I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be moving away again.” She said exasperatedly. “Good lord, I need a phonebook just to hold all the different addresses you’ve lived at, not to mention the change in phone numbers!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to move right away. I’m just going to take a vacation for once.” A grin spread across his face. “And I haven’t moved around that much.”

“Ok, let me guess then, you’ve been reading Harry Potter and watching all the movies. A sudden urge to read all the fan fiction you can find ...” He could almost hear the wheels spinning in her head. “London it is.”

“You know me oh so well, my dear.” He barked out with a laugh. “I’m working on getting my passport now but it’s taking forever.”

“Well, you know how the government likes to keep you in line ... Literally.” She retorted with a sigh. “Listen, Scott, be careful out there, ok?”

“I know, all the terrorism and such going on. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know how it went when I get over there ... I’ll get you a butterbeer from the Leaky Cauldron, how about that?”

“Oh, grow up!” She said with a laugh. “I hope you really don’t think that those places exist.”

“Nah, I know they don’t. Well, except for Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, Fizzing Whizbees, Jelly Slugs, Ice Mice ...” He admitted with a laugh.

“You know what I mean!” She laughed back.

“Of course I know what you mean, Andrea.” He said, still smiling. “I just want to get out of the country and see what’s out there. I need time away from where Annie is, you know?”

“I know.” She said softly. “Listen, John just got home so I’ve got to get going, we’re taking the kids to Knott’s Berry Farm tomorrow and it’s a pain getting them to calm down enough for the ride.”

“Give Carrie and Andy a hug and kiss from me, ok?”

“Sure thing. Oh, John is shouting ‘Hi!’”

“Hi! Back at him. Take care of yourself, Andrea.”

“You too, Scott, don’t wait so long to call again, ok?”

“I won’t, I promise.” Scott smiled softly and hung up the phone. He shook his head and looked through the mail that had just arrived. The standard assortment of bills and junk mail greeted him from the pile in his hand but a particular envelope caught his attention. It was rather thick and rigid. His heart began to race and he quickly opened the parcel to find a small, brown booklet with the official U.S. Seal on it.

“Finally!” He said with a wide smile. He grabbed his tickets and double checked the itinerary. “Just in time!” With a whoop, Scott Walker packed his bags and grinned widely as he sat in front of the computer to finish copying his favorite links to his laptop.

Eighteen hours later he found himself cruising through the air on British Airways with a map of London in front of him. Grinning like a child on Christmas morning, he pulled out a printout he’d made the night before.

“Wizarding London ...” He laughed to himself. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to run around like an idiot to see if I can find these places.” His eyes glazed over as he daydreamed of what he’d find. The travel channel had done a special a few weeks ago on the tourism in London and he had decided to follow their advice for some of the spots he planned to visit. He did hope, in that child-like belief of fairy tale adventures, that he’d find the hidden world of witches and wizards but he knew, like so many others, that he wouldn’t.

After storing everything in their proper places, he settled down for a quick nap. Scott was hoping that he’d be able to catch a few hours of sleep while in the air and the prospect of the time speeding by without him to monitor it made him smile.

Time is relative after all ... He yawned and let his eyes flutter closed. In several hours, he’d be standing in a terminal at Heathrow.

He didn’t make a sound as he looked up the two steps that separated the sunken living room from the dining room in his small apartment. The woman in front of him was smiling seductively and with a raised hand, beckoned for him to join her.

Scott rose from his seat on the couch and walked over to his beautiful wife. His hands slid up her silk-laden sides and he could feel the soft skin under the smooth fabric of her nightgown. His hands made their way to her hips and with a groan of pleasure he pulled her into him, her arms encircling his neck as she smiled sweetly.

He looked into her deep brown eyes and watched as her long, curly, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. He smiled and inched his face to hers.

Scott snapped awake at the ding that heralded a captain’s announcement.

“What is it with that dream and bells interrupting it?” Scott growled sleepily. He looked out the window and the irritation drained from his mind. The cityscape of London spread out below him and for the first time in his life he felt like he was coming home.

I’ve never been here ... He scratched his head as the curiosity these feelings brought came over him but was awakened from his thoughts by the voice of the captain.

“This is your captain speaking. We are currently on course to land at Heathrow in just a few minutes. Please return your seats to their upright positions, turn off any electronic devices, and make sure your trays are in their upright and locked positions.”

Scott smiled to himself and pulled out his carryon luggage. As promised, within a few moments, the recognizable squeal of rubber on tarmac was heard and the plane slowed down to taxiing speed.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” The captain said cheerfully over the intercom. “It’s an unusually sunny and warm day here in London. The temperature is a nice eighty degrees and the local time is one forty-five p.m.”

Scott stretched his legs as best he could and rubbed his face as he listened to the droning of the captain’s voice telling them the local weather conditions and other odds and ends. He wasn’t particularly interested in anything other than the weather and was looking forward to finding a particular stretch of buildings on Charing Cross Road. The plane settled in the appropriate gate as was announced and Scott made his way to baggage claim for his backpack.

Three hours later, he was in a taxi on his way to one of the most famous places in the Harry Potter world. He smiled goofily as he thought about the vacation he was currently embarking on and within the hour, he had paid the driver and was looking at a bookstore on the famous street.

Scott scanned over his surroundings, noting the different alleys and doorways, shops and particular assortment of people that were out and about today. Whenever he traveled abroad, he found it best to be somewhat paranoid about his fellow man and so far, this particular practice of his had worked out just fine.

He glanced past a small pub that was nestled between the bookstore and a record store. With a grumble from his stomach, he realized with a sheepish grin that he’d not had much to eat on the flight in. He hiked his backpack on his shoulder and headed straight for the inn, looking forward to a typical lunch in an English pub.

He opened the door and peered through the smoky haze that was floating through the common room. With a final adjustment of his luggage, he made his way to the bar and set his things on the floor.

“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked without looking up from the glass he was wiping.

“What’s on the menu today?”

“Ah, a Yank, eh?” Without glancing at Scott, the man behind the counter slid a menu his way.

He looked it over and smiled at the parchment that everything was written on. Come to think of it, it seemed to be hand written and not printed. “Nice ambiance.” Scott commented from behind the menu. He glanced at the name of the pub and chuckled. “The Leaky Cauldron? I was hoping to find it here.”

The bartender looked up curiously. “Aye, that’s the name of the place.”

“Well, how much for the stew and a butterbeer?” Scott asked with a laugh.

“The price is on the menu.” He got in reply.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve only got muggle money on me.” He laughed. “I haven’t been to Gringotts today for an exchange.”

“No worries. We take all types of currency here.” The bartender said with a smile as he put on his glasses.

“Alright then, one stew and a butterbeer then.” Scott raised an eyebrow at the look he was getting from the bartender. “You’ve really taken J.K. Rowling’s books to heart, haven’t you? Get a lot of fans in here?”

The bartender looked at him with wide eyes and shook his head. “Not many come in, actually.” He said quietly. “Oh, right, right. Stew and a butterbeer, coming right up.”

A moment later, a piping hot bowl of beef stew was sitting in front of him and a bottle of what could only be butterbeer was in his hands. “Well, let’s see if what she said about the taste is true.” Scott raised the bottle to his lips and grimaced in anticipation. He was shocked as the most wonderful taste he had ever experienced danced on his tongue and he had a sickly feeling that this wasn’t the first time he’d drank a butterbeer. He looked curiously at the bottle and looked up when he heard an excited voice.

“I tell you it’s him! These glasses don’t lie!” The bartender said exasperatedly.

“You’re sure?!” A familiar female’s voice replied skeptically.

“I swear it’s the truth. I’ve seen him with me own eyes!”

“Tom, I’ll be there in a few minutes, you’d better not be pulling my leg like last time.”

The man who was obviously named Tom returned to the bar and glanced at Scott.

“Your name’s Tom?” He asked quizzically. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Tom smiled at him and let out a laugh. “Aye, I’m Tom.”

Scott looked at him and smiled. This is so surreal, wait until Andrea hears about this!

There was a small pop by the door and Scott turned around at the intruding noise. He slid off his barstool in shock when he saw the woman that was standing there. Long, brown hair and deep, brown eyes. The same lips, curves, complexion, literally the same woman from his dreams.

“Hey, alright?” Tom asked as he rushed around the bar to help Scott to his feet.

“I-I’m f-fine.” He said while rubbing his thigh. Scott accepted the hand that Tom offered him but didn’t take his eyes from the woman who was now hurrying to the two men.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

Scott couldn’t explain it but her voice was like ambrosia to him. He felt a familiar heat reach his head and his heart began beating faster than he’d ever known it to.

“I-I’m fine.” He said for the second time in as many minutes. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

She smiled at him genuinely. “I haven’t met you before.” She laughed softly and Scott could have sworn that he heard bells ring in his ears at her lovely laugh.

“Sorry.” He said after a moment. “I just feel like I’ve seen you before, in a dream or something.”

The woman looked nervously to Tom and he handed her his glasses. Without hesitation she put them on and looked at Scott properly. It was his turn to be concerned as her legs gave out and she fell to the floor.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” He held out a hand to help her up but she was on her feet in an instant and pulling him into a tight hug.

“HARRY! IT’S REALLY YOU! YOU’RE HOME!” She sobbed into his shoulder to his sheer amazement.

A very shocked Scott Walker stood stiffly as the familiar yet unfamiliar woman remained latched on to him as if her life depended on it. He looked at Tom the bartender in confusion and got a shrug and a smile in response.

Harry? “Um ... Excuse me ...” He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away from him. “I think you’ve got the wrong person, miss.”

The woman sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She was still wearing the glasses and continued to inspect every inch of him.

“My name’s not Harry ... Its Scott.” He said, for some reason feeling very stupid. He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and paid the bartender for the meal. “Thanks for the meal, Tom.” He said quietly. He couldn’t take his eyes from the woman in front of him but before she could look into his, he grabbed his luggage and settled it over his shoulders. “It was ... a pleasure, I guess ... Have a good day.” He said hurriedly and went for the door.

This day cannot get any weirder ... He thought in disbelief. Scott almost got to the door when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end again. Without thinking he shot to the side of the door and glanced around the common room quickly as he reached to his left side for something.

The door banged open and three men in what could only be described as black robes stormed into the place. The woman that had called Scott Harry handed the glasses back to Tom and disappeared out the back.

“She went out the back. Com on!” The one in front said gruffly. He pulled out a long, shiny stick and ran to the back of the room. The other two brandished similar items and followed quickly.

Once they were out of the room, Tom hurried to Scott with a look of worry on his face. “You’ve got to get out of here!” He said in a harsh whisper. “Call the Knight Bus and take it to this address.” He handed Scott a folded piece of parchment and looked around quickly.

“What’s the phone number?” Scott asked as he tore open the folded paper and looked at the handwriting scrawled upon it. Scott was still reeling in disbelief at everything that had just happened. If she can make it down Knockturn Alley, she should be able to catch that unmonitored Floo ... WHAT AM I THINKING? He looked at Tom with curious panic and the bartender glanced at him incredulously.

“Just raise your wand and Stan will get you out of here.” Tom hissed impatiently.

“I don’t have a wand.” He admitted with confusion. “I’ve never owned one, let alone believed that they actually existed!”

Tom reached into his apron and pulled out a sleek shaft with a handle on one end. “Use mine. Now get out of here before they come back!”

Scott took the wand and without looking back shot into the street. The door slammed behind him as he looked around the area carefully. There were a few shadowy people looking his way and one stood up. Without a second thought, he stuck his wand in the air and immediately an ensuing bang echoed down the street. Scott was startled to see a violently purple bus screech to a halt directly in front of him.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or –”

“Stan, no time, I need to get out of here!” Scott rushed onto the bus and set his bag into a chair.

“Excuse me?” Stan asked taken back.

“No time, no time! Tom told me to have you take me here.” Scott shoved the paper into the palm of Stan’s hand and the young man’s eyes went wide.

“Ern, HIT IT!” Stan slammed himself into his seat and buckled in. The short man in the driver’s seat smiled excitedly and slammed the gear stick, at least Scott thought it was a gear stick, into the farthest forward position it could go.

Scott was thrown from his feet as the bus shot off with an acceleration that defied physics. There were several loud cracks as the scenery flashed and changed outside the windows. Another crack was heard and they looked out the window to see Charing Cross Road again.

“ERN! Ignore it! Emergency measures!” Stan shouted as the bus began to stop. There was a mass of men and women in black robes converging on the spot where the Knight Bus’ projected position was going to be when it came to a halt.

The driver pulled a switch and hit another button that caused them to disappear with another loud crack. The scenery began to change far more rapidly during their journey and Scott was finally able to pull himself into a seat.

“WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” He shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Calm down, mate.” Stan said reassuringly from his seat. He slowly got to his feet and pulled a ring from a pocket inside his robes. “Do you recognize this?” He asked cautiously.

Scott looked at the ring and found himself drawn to it. The band was composed of gold, silver, platinum, and bronze threads that were woven together in a Celtic knotwork design. The ancient decoration started and ended at a golden lion's head with emerald eyes. He felt like he'd seen this ring before but couldn't place it. When he concentrated on the elusive memory his head began to spin and he felt a little faint.

“Cor!” Stan shouted. “I guess you do. Ern, toss me the medical kit!”

Scott looked at the driver who retrieved a small box from under his seat and slid it down the aisle to Stan’s feet.

“Hold on, your nose started bleeding.” Stan said soothingly. He opened the box and pulled out some gauze. “Pinch your nose with this. Blimey they did a bang up job on you ...”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked quietly while he did as he was instructed.

“That’s one bloody strong memory charm they have on you.” Stan said quickly. “Put this ring on, it’ll keep the Aurors off of you for the time being.”

Scott looked at the ring apprehensively but slowly slid it over his finger. It stopped at the middle knuckle and he watched as the ring grew in size to accommodate his finger.

“I don’t think I can handle this ...” He said woozily. He looked around at the spinning bus and slid helplessly to the floor.

“Hold on, we’ll get you into a bed ...”

Scott nodded absently as he felt his consciousness drain away. What’s happening? He felt bile rise in his throat but was feeling too weak to do anything about it. A moment later, everything was black.

“What do you mean there’s someone else in there?!” Scott yelled at his partner angrily. “I just did a sweep of the entire place. Nothing visible or invisible was left!”

“Damn it! I told you there’s someone in there!” His blonde-headed partner yelled back at him. “Now’s not the time to bring up our past! We’ve been partnered together and that’s that! Look I’ll take the top floor and make sure there aren’t any Death Eaters there, you hit the ground floor ...”

Scott pulled out his wand and muttered something under his breath and a wide, green beam shot from the tip. “One more effing sweep! We don’t have much time before that damn bomb is supposed to go off! Now get going!”

The partners ran into the building and as planned they each went their separate ways. Scott bustled into each of the separate rooms on the ground floor and stopped in the library. The green light from his wand illuminated a few footprints in front of a bookcase and there were handprints all over a particular book.

“What the? This wasn’t here before!” Scott bent and muttered a few words as his wand trailed over the footprints then did the same on the handprints. He looked at the book and sighed at the title. “Rise ... of the Dark Arts ... Death Eaters must have scratched off the ‘and Fall’ part ...” He shook his head and reached for the tome.

Be careful tonight, Love. A voice in the back of his head said with concern. I want you to come home tonight ...

“She’s right, this could be anything.” Scott doused his light and muttered another spell. The book glowed a bright orange then faded to green before going out. “Well, there isn’t a portkey glamour on it.” He observed. He moved the book and the bookcase opened to reveal a long, dark tunnel that seemed to stretch a bit farther than the house. Scott cautiously entered the stone corridor and the door slammed shut behind him.

“Damn it!” He turned around cautiously and found that he was no longer in a tunnel, but was instead in a room. There was a man tied to a chair in the center of the square area. “Who are you?”

The man struggled wildly and he shouted through the bag over his face. “MMMMPH!”

Scott’s paranoia shot to new levels as he stalked closer to the bound man. A faint light was shining on him from a small window set into the wall. He pulled off the bag and stumbled backwards. He tripped and fell into an identical chair as ropes shot from the backrest and tied him firmly in place.

“WHAT THE MMPMPHH?!” A gag snaked around his mouth as someone tied it firmly behind him. Scott could only stare in horror at his twin who seemed to be staring back at him with an equal amount of fear.

Scott turned to see who was there but a bag was shoved roughly over his head and someone belted him across the face a few times. He fought to stay awake but he fell unconscious.

“Will he be alright?” A familiar voice asked worriedly. Scott tried to move but found it difficult. “Harry? Are you awake?”

He fought to open his eyes and with a tremendous amount of effort he blinked. The amount of light that poured through his eyelids blinded him and left him dizzy where he lay. “Wh-where am I?” He asked with a thick tongue.

“You’re in a safe house.” The woman said quietly beside him. He looked down and saw that she was holding his hand. Or what he assumed was his hand, it didn’t look quite right.

“What’s wrong with my hand?” He looked up to the woman’s face and saw the one from the pub. “Who are you?”

The woman sighed and Scott could immediately tell it was one of sadness. How he could tell, he didn’t know. He suddenly realized that something else was off.

“Hello? Testing ... testing ... one – two – three ...” His free hand shot to his mouth and his eyes widened. “This isn’t my voice ...” He freed his hand and felt his face. “Where’s a mirror!” He whispered harshly.

Without looking up, the strangely familiar woman handed him a mirror. Scott took it in his hands and peered into the unfamiliar green eyes that were embedded on the man’s face that was reflected back. He wiggled his eyebrows and opened his mouth experimentally and watched the color drain from the face of his mirror ego.

“What?” He ran his fingers through his raven hair. As his bangs were pulled back his forehead was revealed and it was sporting a jagged scar that resembled a lightning bolt. “No ... You’ve got to be kidding me!” He looked at the woman and a tinge of recognition flashed in his eyes. “H-Hermione?” He asked tenuously.

She snapped her head up and her eyes found his. Scott could see the look of hope that flashed in her chocolate-brown swirls just before everything drained to a worried look of concern. “Harry? Your nose is bleeding ... Here, let me get that.” She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at his nose but the bleeding increased.

“It feels like my head is going to crack open ...” Scott said with a woozy voice. Hermione looked panicked and ran to the door.

“Quick! It’s happening again!” She yelled down the hall. The sound of several people running on tile echoed into the room and Scott’s vision blurred as they stormed up to him.

“He’s going into shock! I need the vial of ....” The rest of the conversation died out as Scott slumped back into unconsciousness.

He didn’t make a sound as he looked up the two steps that separated the sunken living room from the dining room in his small apartment. The woman in front of him was smiling seductively and with a raised hand, beckoned for him to join her.

Scott rose from his seat on the couch and walked over to his beautiful wife. His hands slid up her silk-laden sides and he could feel the soft skin under the smooth fabric of her nightgown. His hands made their way to her hips and with a groan of pleasure he pulled her into him, her arms encircling his neck as she smiled sweetly.

He looked into her deep brown eyes and watched as her long, curly, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. He smiled and inched his face to hers.

“I love you, Harry ...” She said quietly as their lips met for the first time since they’d been back.

“I love you too, Hermione.” He said huskily when he lifted her from the floor.

His lips were back on hers in a flash and the next thing he knew, the doorbell rang several times in rapid succession.

“I’m going to kill him!” Harry said angrily under his breath. “I’m not supposed to be back until tomorrow!”

“Don’t go, Harry, just stay here ...” Hermione whispered into his ear before nibbling seductively at his earlobe. His eyes rolled back into his head and a moan escaped his lips.

“POTTER! Open up! We have a break in the case!” Draco Malfoy shouted through the door. “We don’t have much time!”

Hermione’s head shot up. “They’ve got a lead?” She asked incredulously.

Harry sighed and handed her dressing gown to her. “Damn it! Why now of all times?!” He threw on his pants, strapped his wand holster to his shoulder and threw on his black cloak.

“Harry, be careful tonight, Love.” Hermione whispered to him as he pulled her into a tight hug. “I want you to come home tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Love, I’ll be back. I promise.” Harry said quietly into her hair. “If anything goes wrong ...”

“Nothing will go wrong, Harry!” Hermione said sternly.

“I know, but you need to be ready.” He said in an equally stern voice. “The emergency portkey, remember to use it!”

Hermione didn’t argue and just nodded that she understood.

“I love you, Hermione.” He said reassuringly.

“I love you too.” She said quietly and pulled him into another hug.

Harry left the bedroom and opened the door. “This had better be good, Draco, I wasn’t due to return until tomorrow ...”

“Don’t worry, Potter, this is something we can’t pass up!” Draco said with a wide smile. “We have him where we want him!”

“Fine, let’s get this over with, I have a wife I need to get home to ...” Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione and smiled with reassurance. He mouthed ‘be back soon’ then closed the door and apparated to the police box next to headquarters.

The sound of people talking suddenly washed over him like a tidal wave crashing into a mountain. His eyes fluttered open to a sea of blurry red and a speck of brown.

“You’re awake again!” Hermione leaned over the bed and looked into Scott’s eyes. “It looks like they were able to get you back to normal ...” She sighed and Scott saw the tears glistening on her cheeks when her head bowed.

“Hermione ...” He said hoarsely. “What’s happening?”

She pulled a familiar pair of glasses from her robe and slipped them onto his face. Once they were settled, the room slid into crystal clarity and the sea of red dissolved into several redheaded people.

“You’ve got a particularly nasty memory charm on you, mate!” A tall, gangly redhead said with a smile as he approached. “Took us three years just to find you, come to think of it, you found us! I knew they couldn’t keep you away from Hermione for long ...” He ruffled Scott’s hair playfully and smiled at him.

“Wait a minute ... If she’s Hermione and she keeps calling me Harry, let me guess, you’re Ron, right?” Scott smiled sarcastically. “Ok, what drugs do you people have me on?”

Hermione looked hurt and a twinge of regret flooded through him. He looked at who he guessed was Ron and winced at the anger in his eyes.

“Harry, you’ve been gone for three years. We’ve been looking for you non-stop for quite some time. Yes, I am Ron and I know the memory charm has us locked away in your head somewhere but nobody is tricking you. At least, nobody in this room ...”

“How on earth can I be Harry, I’m guessing Harry Potter because of this damned scar on my head, when he’s a fictional character in a book!” Scott was about to tighten his hands into fists to keep the anger at bay but remembered that Hermione still had his hand in hers. That touch brought him under control instantly. “My name is Scott Walker. I’m thirty-five and am in London on vacation.” He said evenly. “This has got to be a dream because I just read the entire series a few months ago ...”

“Those books aren’t fictional, Mr. Potter.” A tall, mature yet attractive blonde said from the doorway. “I should know because I used your journals to write them.”

“Aren’t you J.K. Rowling?” Scott asked with wide eyes. She nodded and smiled.

“That’s my penname, Harry.” She said with a grin. She walked to the end of the bed and as each foot hit the tile floor her features rearranged themselves and changed. By the time she was at the foot of the bed she looked completely different. The most striking feature was her violently pink hair. From the descriptions in the books, Scott suddenly realized who she was.

“Wotcher, Harry!” She said with a grin.

“Tonks? Ny ... err ... Just Tonks if the books were right ...” He stammered.

Tonks let out a hearty laugh. “I’m glad I put that in there. You know how I hate my first name!”

Scott looked at Ron then looked to Hermione. She was looking at her hands where they were folded in her lap. Scott reached out tentatively and caught her chin. He turned her face towards him and smiled apologetically.

“If what you said is true and I’ve been put under some sort of memory charm ... I’m guessing that I was transfigured or switched into my ... err ... Scott Walker’s body?”

Hermione nodded slowly and he could see the hope growing in her eyes.

“I’m assuming there are other complications, otherwise I wouldn’t keep passing out?”

Hermione cleared her throat. “Whoever did this to you didn’t want you to remember anything. Whenever the memory charm starts to degrade or you remember something, it’s killing you.” She took his hand in trembling ones of her own. “There is one person who knows memory charms well enough to remove it ...”

“No, Hermione.” Ron said adamantly. “We aren’t going to take Harry to ... to him!” The redhead began to pace next to the bed. “There has to be another way!”

Scott laughed. “Ok. From your reaction, I’d guess it was Lockhart that you were talking about ...”

Ron looked at him incredulously then softened. “Of course you wouldn’t remember the git.” Ron said evenly. “You read ... what was it, Tonks, The Chamber of Secrets?”

Tonks smiled and nodded. “I liked writing that one! My fans on the internet think that I based him on this muggle I knew. Little did they know everyone is based on someone who lived or is still alive!” She grinned at her own work then nodded for Ron to continue.

“Honestly, since we had her write these books, she’s gone spare, I tell you!” He grinned at Scott then glanced at Tonks who was laughing even more. Scott couldn’t help but laugh but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Hermione. “Well, if you read that book, you know what the git’s like.” Ron finished.

“Why did you write the books in the first place?”

Hermione looked at him and smiled. “I came up with the idea. We couldn’t find you in England and, well, I was getting desperate.”

“I knew you had written journals of everything you’d done. It was part of your therapy after the war.” Tonks continued. “Most of those who were involved went through the same thing. Well, when Hermione told me about her plan, I offered to write the books and assume the guise of one Joanne Kathleen Rowling. It was hard going at first, but we eventually got published.”

Hermione looked at the confused look on Scott’s face and continued. “I thought that if you were out there somewhere and couldn’t talk to us, due to a memory charm or some other reason, that the subtle hints about our relationship would trigger a memory or an urge to come back home.”

“So, everyone who pointed out that Harry and Hermione were going to get together were right from the get go ...” Scott smiled at the sneakiness of the plan. “When I read the books I could tell that there was something missing and I needed to find it. I decided to visit here to get away from things ... little did I know that I’d be the center of attention again.”

Hermione winced. “I know you don’t like to be the center of attention, Harry, but that’s the only way we knew how to send word to you without knowing where you were. Even Hedwig couldn’t find you ...”

Scott sat for a moment and thought intently on the current situation and everything he was just told. He looked to the three people around his bed then cleared his throat. “What are the risks?”

Ron’s jaw dropped to his chest and his ears went deadly red. “You’re actually CONSIDERING this load of bollocks?”

“Ron ...” Scott said calmly. “If I am truly Harry Potter, how can I continue to think of myself as Scott Walker? I mean, I have another man’s memories swimming in my head. Aside from a few dreams that I’ve had it seems for all intents and purposes that I am Scott Walker and will never be Harry Potter.” He looked from the redhead to Hermione. “What are the risks?” He reiterated.

“Perhaps I could tell you.” A man from the side of the room said with a wide, sparkling smile. Scott knew immediately who the purple robed man was and also knew that he didn’t like the way the fancy boy was leaning against the wall.

“I assume that you’re Lockhart?” He said dryly.

Lockhart’s smile went down a grade or two on the brightness meter but he didn’t lose it entirely. “Got it in one! It seems that you do remember me, even if the recognition only comes from my portrayal in Miss Tonks’ books.”

“What are the risks then?” Scott asked evenly. “I’d like to have who I was back in my head where it belongs without having to die to do it.”

“The risks are rather minimal.” Lockhart said with a serious face. Gone was the dashing man who apparently did win Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award and in his place was a clinical wizard with a specialty in memory charms. “The worst that could happen would be a complete erasure of your mind. No memories at all. That has to be instigated purposely, however, and I value my life more than clearing your mind of any incriminating evidence.

“A minor difficulty could be the sophistication of the charm whoever did this placed on you. In attempting to remove it, the modifications they’ve made to kill you gradually may kill you instantly. I won’t be the only one working on restoring your hidden memories, it will take my talents, many potions, and most likely several counter-curses.”

Hermione nodded at each point, watching Gilderoy like a hawk during his entire explanation. When he’d finished, she seemed satisfied and smiled at Scott. “That’s about it. Though he left out the legilimency probing to see just how much you’ve remembered before we start on anything that may be time delayed ...”

The other redheads in the room had slowly made themselves known as they encircled the bed. Each of them smiled and waved to him as he took in their faces.

“This is a bit much to wrap my mind around ...” Scott said with a sigh. “Do we have enough time for me to think about this for a bit?”

“The house is unplottable and as soon as anyone leaves, the information is wiped from their mind.” Ron said with a smile. “It’s one of your more brilliant ideas during the war. I tell you, it saved a lot of people.”

“To answer your question, we’ll be safe here for quite some time. The Ministry has only been able to find one of the houses we placed these wards on and that was by sheer luck.” Hermione added with a smile. She moved a certain way and looked at him peculiarly and Scott had the strangest feeling that there were literally thousands of safe houses like this one that were still hidden from even the wizarding world. He nodded curtly and looked to his hands.

“Give me a day or two to mull everything over.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but this is quite the psychedelic ride I’m being put on and I want to make sure that I’m not hallucinating or dreaming.”

He looked around the sea of faces and saw that each of them, save Lockhart who was trying desperately to find a way out of the room, agreed.

“We’ll be just outside.” Ron said with a smile and he stood to leave. “You heard him, let’s give him some space. We can talk to Harry when he’s himself again.”

Hermione stood to leave as well, but Scott took her hand. “Please don’t go, Hermione ...” She looked at him and smiled nervously but nodded and sat back down. After a few minutes everyone was out of the room and the door was closed. Hermione sat in silence for some time while Scott looked around the room, examining himself in the wall mirror, and feeling for his balance in this strangely familiar body he now occupied. He turned to Hermione and sat on the bed in front of her.

“Show me some magic?” He asked excitedly.

“What?” She looked at him startled by the sudden question.

“As far as I know, I’ve never seen magic.” He said with a smile. “I know it sounds like a strange request ...”

Hermione shook her head and smiled. “No, I understand.” She pulled her wand from her purse and motioned towards one of the pillows on the bed. “WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA.” She said in a clear voice and with a flick and a swish of her wand the pillow rose from the bed, seemingly of its own volition.

Scott stared at it in wonder and awe. “Wow.” He whispered as he reached for and caught the pillow. He pulled it from the air and tossed it back to the head of the bed. “That is really something!” He said with a grin.

Hermione shrugged. “We learned it our first year at Hogwarts.” She said with a slight smile.

Scott nodded as he slid back into the bed. “So Hogwarts does exist ...” He said with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Remember what I said when we first ... ah ... when we met at the Leaky Cauldron?”

Hermione nodded. “You asked if you knew me then mentioned you may have seen me in a dream ...”

Scott smiled. “That’s right. I do remember you from a dream and if this is all really happening, it could very well be a memory.”

Hermione perked up and nodded for him to continue. He looked into her excited eyes and recognized that hopeful look she’d displayed earlier.

“Tell me about the night we got back from our honeymoon.” He said cautiously. His paranoia was still running on high and he wanted to make sure that this was indeed the woman from his dreams.

“You remembered that we’re married?” She asked with a smile but it smile faded when he shook his head.

“I don’t remember that specifically. I do know that the woman in my dreams was my wife. Please tell me about that night.” He prompted again.

Hermione cleared her throat and wiped a tear from her eye. “We were home for only a few hours ... I surprised you with that black, silk nighty that you’ve always liked ... We were going to the bedroom when Draco showed up with a lead to a case you were on ... That’s the last I saw of you.” She looked at him with a hurt and angry look in her eyes. “You said you’d be right back!” She yelled at him as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d have to use the emergency portkey, but when they showed up I had to ...”

Scott knew, without a doubt, that he was indeed Harry Potter after what Hermione told him. “I’m sorry.” He said as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know this was going to happen ... I’ve had a few dreams and you just confirmed them as memories, Hermione.

“I remember that first night back, holding you, kissing you, and most of all, I knew I loved you. Draco rang the doorbell as we were on our way to the bedroom and said something along the lines of ‘we have him where we want him’ ... There’s another dream where he and I are arguing and we went back into this building to look for someone that Draco said was still in there. I told him that there wasn’t anyone but I found footprints and handprints on the floor and a bookcase. Someone had scratched out the words ‘and Fall’ from ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.’ I remembered your warning about being careful and made sure there wasn’t a portkey attached to the book, and there wasn’t. I moved it and the bookcase opened to a tunnel. I guess there was something there that moved me somewhere else because I ended up in a square room instead of that corridor I’d seen. I found someone who looked like me bound and gagged in a chair and I fell back into another. Someone gagged me and put a bag over my head. I don’t remember anything else other than a few punches ... The night back in our flat has been a recurring dream for years ...” He finished quietly.

Hermione had listened intently the entire time he was explaining his dreams. When he’d finished she nodded and her facial expression changed from hurt to analysis mode. Harry watched her think over everything before she looked back to him.

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember anything else.” He said softly.

“Don’t apologize, Harry.” Hermione said with a small smile. “We can get you back to normal eventually.” She placed a hand on his and he laced his fingers with hers subconsciously. Hermione looked down and smiled a bit wider. “That building you were scanning was a muggle office building.” She explained quietly. “There was a bomb and a radical religious cult claimed they had planted and activated it. Draco barely made it out alive. He spent the following two years in the burn ward at St. Mungo’s.” She smiled sadly. “They never found your body. Everything was frantic for the first two years, but when Draco was released from the hospital everything changed. The Auror squad became a paramilitary branch of the Ministry and they now wear all black robes. You saw them at the Cauldron two weeks ago.”

“TWO WEEKS?!” Harry’s eyes went wide. “It’s been two weeks since I’ve gotten here?”

Hermione nodded. “It wasn’t easy with the memory charm and the counter to that bit of transfiguration they put on you.”

Harry buried his face in his hands. “I just lost my job! I worked so damned hard to get there after Annie and I divorced ...”

“What? Who’s Annie?” Hermione asked somewhat tersely.

Harry sighed. “Five years ago I married a woman named Annette Storer. Things were fine at first but with the recurring dreams and lack of children, she left me after four and a half years. I was putting myself through college and had finally gotten a job in New York when she handed me the papers ...”

He looked to Hermione whose eyes were closed and saying something under her breath. Her face was very red and he could easily feel the anger pouring from her.

“Hermione, please, don’t be mad ... I didn’t know ...”

“I’m not angry with you, Harry.” She said evenly. “I’m upset, yes, but you didn’t know ... I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.”

“I think there’s a line for that.” He said with a slight chuckle. “If it means anything, Annie and I grew apart because of the first dream I described to you. I knew I felt a deeper connection with the unknown woman than I did with my wife and everything sort of fell apart ...”

“That wasn’t your life, Harry.” Hermione said comfortingly. “Your life is here, with me.” She looked like she wanted to hug him and his willpower was weak when it came to the woman of his dreams. He opened his arms and without a moment of contemplation, Hermione had hers around him. He marveled at just how right the embrace felt and he looked down at the woman in his arms.

“I don’t want to risk my death by remembering much more.” He said in a daze. “I really don’t think I can control myself for much longer. Tell Lockhart that we need to start now. I want my memories back, every single one.”

She looked into his determined eyes and smiled hopefully. “Do you really want to tell him now? Can’t we wait just a few more minutes?” Hermione’s eyes pleaded with him to kiss and hold her but he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“If I kiss you now, it could trigger a memory that could be the end of my life. I don’t want to die not know everything about you.” He winced at the pained expression in her eyes and sighed. “I want to remember, Hermione. I don’t need a memory charm removed to know that I love you but I do want to remember our wedding and growing up without having to worry about keeling over ...”

The hurt in her eyes almost disappeared but not fully. Harry knew that it would take time to heal from the years that he’d missed but that healing couldn’t start until the threat of death just by remembering the touch of his wife’s lips was removed. She nodded and went to the door. After a few moments, Ron, Hermione, and Gilderoy were back in the room.

“This might hurt a bit.” Lockhart said warningly. “We’re going to give you a sleeping draught so that I can work without you screaming and lashing at me.”

Hermione handed him a clay vial and after the briefest of misgivings looking into her eyes told him it would be safe, that he’d be safe and that she and Ron would be there to protect him. Without breaking eye contact, he downed the liquid in one gulp and handed the vial back. He settled into his pillows and looked around expectantly.

“So, when is this sleeping draught ... supposed ... to ... work ...” The potion worked its magic and Harry felt himself slip into a warm, dreamless slumber.

“My head feels like an elephant tap danced on it ...” Harry said groggily into the inky blackness of his room. He heard someone breathing close by and tried to focus his eyes to see who it was. It took him a few minutes to realize that he needed glasses and patted around the bedside table before closing his fingers around the legendary frames that belonged to him. He slipped them gingerly upon the bridge of his nose and opened his eyes to a crystal clear room, still shrouded in darkness, but the faint light streaming from the star-filled sky outside the window provided enough to see the details that were hidden in his nearsighted, sleepy stupor.

Sitting in a chair and bent over to the side of the bed was none other than his dream girl, Hermione. Her bushy brown hair cascaded around her face like delicate silk and Harry marveled at her untroubled, serene face as she slept, blissfully unaware that he’d awoken.

Being the first, real quiet time he’d had since arriving in London some two weeks ago, Harry decided it would be best to review all that had happened since. His memories were still filled with those of Scott Walker's and whether this person truly existed was speculative at best, but it didn’t explain the dream, or memory, he’d had while he was unconscious. Sitting in the chair across from him in that dream was probably the real Scott and if he was right, someone had transfigured him to look like the American. The memory transfer probably happened sometime afterwards and included everything up until his abduction.

Three years ago he remembered waking in a muggle hospital in Colorado Springs with no memory of how he had gotten there but apparently the story was a mugging along Old Colorado Boulevard. It struck him as funny when he had his wallet and money still on him. The last memory before that was loitering around the local air port waiting for his flight to Greece, boarding the plane, and landing in Athens. The branch office picked him up and everything went fuzzy after that.

Returning to the resurfaced memories, he realized that the woman in his dreams was indeed Hermione. They’d just returned from their honeymoon and he was recalled to the office by none other than Draco Malfoy. If the books were any indication of what he was supposed to have experienced then Malfoy had been a Death Eater at one point. He would have to see the journals that Tonks, a.k.a. J.K. Rowling, used to write them.

The second memory must have happened later that day or evening. Malfoy was bound and determined that there was someone still in the building and there was a bomb scare of some type associated with the investigation. The book rang out in his mind.

The RISE of the Dark Arts? The modified title echoed in his mind. “Hmm, according to the books, Voldemort was defeated ...” He said absently to himself. The sleeping form of Hermione shuddered awake at his voice and she looked up excitedly.

“Harry? You’re awake?” She reached for his cheek with a trembling hand. “D-Do you remember anything else?”

Harry smiled at her and pressed his hand over hers then shook his head. “Nothing yet.” He whispered quietly. “Though I have to say I could never get that image of you in that silk, black nighty out of my head.”

Her eyes sparkled and the slightest smile spread across her lips. “I should hope not, Mr. Potter.” She said teasingly. “It looks like we’ll have to run another examination to see if Lockhart was able to do anything ...”

“That might be a good idea.” He sighed as he pulled her hand from his face and clasped it between both of his. “I believe that I’m Harry Potter but I still have all of the memories of Scott Walker running rampant in my head ...”

“I’ll be back with one of the healers and we’ll see what we can find out.” She said reassuringly as she stood from her chair. Hermione looked into his eyes and smiled softly. The contours of her face, the wrinkle between her eyebrows, the way her lip trembled, and the soft, sparkling light in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. The strongest was that he could trust her with his life because she loved him. The second was relief that they’d found each other once again.

Harry didn’t have his memories of how they were able to read one another so well but it seemed as if the ability was never truly taken away. He smiled in return and let her know that his love for her had never wavered.

With the silent exchange finished, she turned to the door and called for someone. Within moments, a woman in what Harry thought could only be the wizarding world equivalent to scrubs stepped into the room. Her long red hair was tied back into a ponytail and she smiled at him as she turned on the lights.

“I understand that your memories still haven’t returned so I’ll introduce myself.” She offered her hand and smiled brightly. “I’m Susan Boots, you would have known me as Susan Bones before you disappeared.”

Harry took her hand and smiled as he remembered her name from the books. “I remember both surnames from what I’ve read, sorry that it’s not from personal experience.”

She laughed as she retrieved her wand. “It’s perfectly fine, Harry. I’m sure we’ll get all of that back soon enough.” She raised her wand over his head and looked into his eyes intensely. “I’m going to run a diagnostic charm. It won’t hurt but I need to maintain eye contact with you during the process. It will only take a few moments so please try not to blink.” Harry nodded and blinked a few times to moisten his eyes before she spoke the incantation and tapped the top of his head gingerly. A few moments later she smiled and broke contact. “There we are.” She looked over the image that had floated in front of him and nodded as she poked a few areas with her wand.

“That doesn’t look normal.” Hermione said as she watched the magical display update with each prodding.

“Susan, I don’t remember the majority of my wizarding experience, but that black splotch here doesn’t look healthy to me ...” Harry said as he pointed at an area of the display that was hidden from the healer.

Susan spun the display so she could examine what he’d indicated and sighed. “Well, there is good news, bad news, and troubling news. Which do you want first?”

Hermione slumped in the chair and stared at the display with wide eyes. “I can’t believe anyone would do that ...” She said in disbelief.

Harry looked between the two women and rubbed his eyes. “Let’s hit the troubling bit first.”

Susan cleared her throat after conjuring another chair for her to sit in. “That black spot you found is a barrier charm. Usually, it’s placed on convicts who are sentenced to life as muggles. It cuts off all wizarding magical abilities and essentially cuts them off from the wizarding world.”

Harry nodded. “That doesn’t explain why I was able to use Tom’s wand to summon the Knight Bus, let alone find the Leaky Cauldron ...”

“I don’t think the person who put this on you really knew the extent of your powers, Harry.” Hermione said with a shaky voice. “It might only be powerful enough to keep you from casting spells ...”

“Or if it’s been modified to kill me if I do, but the hex could have been sufficiently weak to allow me to sense the wizarding world.” Harry finished. That explains all the feelings of being watched ... He added mentally.

“There are counter-curses for this particular spell, but it has to be analyzed and researched before we have the proper anti-charm to remove it.” Susan said with a sigh. “That could take weeks ...”

“What’s the bad news then?” He asked with determination in his voice.

“You see this green area here that covers the majority of the diagnostic?” She spun the display so they could see how far the colored area she indicated extended.

“That’s quite a chunk of space.” Harry said wide eyed. “Let me guess, the memory charm?”

“Got it in one.” Susan said with a smile. “It’s still in place but much more stable than when I first examined you.”

“That means Lockhart didn’t do a damn thing!” Hermione burst out angrily. “Just wait until I get my hands on that git!” Harry reached for her hand and as soon as he made contact she calmed.

“There’s no use getting angry about it now. Ron did say that he wasn’t reliable.” Harry said reassuringly. “What’s the good news?” He asked while still looking at Hermione.

“The good news? You won’t die if you remember anything further.” Susan said with a smile. “Lockhart removed that part of the curse perfectly but I believe the memory charm might just be too powerful for him to work with.”

“If it’s too powerful for Lockhart then we’re talking someone with a lot of power.” Hermione said as her face slipped into her analysis mode.

“Or a legilimency practitioner.” Harry said matter-of-factly.

Hermione’s head snapped up to look to him. “Why would you say that?”

Harry shrugged. “Just something I read from the books and a few theories on the Internet. Legilimency and Occlumency deal with the mind, right?” Hermione and Susan both nodded. “What if the person who put this memory charm on me used legilimency while they performed it?”

“I’m not sure how that could affect a memory charm ...” Susan said thoughtfully.

“It’s possible that a sequence of memories could have been used as a key of sorts to lock his memory away.” Hermione’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “I’ll have to research the idea, but it’s possible.”

“A combination lock and no telling what memories were used as the key ...” Harry sighed and looked at the display in front of him. “Or if they’re even my memories ...”

“What do you mean?” Susan asked with a startled expression.

“Occlumency and Legilimency allow the practitioners to view the memories of the reader or target respectively.” Hermione explained in her usual encyclopedic manner that she was famous for during her attendance at Hogwarts. “If the one or ones responsible for placing these charms on Harry forced him to view their thoughts during the casting process, they could use those thoughts as the combination to unlock Harry’s memories.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” Harry asked as the diagnostic faded from view.

“Regaining your memories, even with a memory charm of this magnitude will happen naturally.” Susan explained with the practice of a medical professional relaying comforting news to her patient. “You’ve already proven that it’s possible with the dreams you’ve had. Given enough time, you’ll remember everything.”

“How long until I can leave, or can I?” Harry asked, afraid to hear the answer. He didn’t want to be cooped up in some safe house like Anne Frank described in her diary.

“There have been some changes since you disappeared, Harry.” Hermione explained cautiously. “The wizarding world isn’t anything like what it used to be.”

“I’ve read the books, how much different were they from what it’s really like?”

“Oh, they were spot on, really.” Susan said with a smile. “Tonks did a wonderful job of transcribing your journals into them.”

“How many people know about my journals and that they were used to write these books?” Harry said, looking between the two women expectantly.

“Not many.” Hermione admitted. “The Weasleys, except Percy and Ginny, Susan, Dumbledore, Hagrid, and myself. We kept it to the members of the Order that could be trusted.”

“The Order of the Phoenix? What happened to the other members? What about the D.A.?” Harry asked quizzically. “I read about them, I don’t remember them ...”

“The old Order died when Fletcher turned on us after you disappeared.” Hermione said sadly. “We still don’t know why his allegiance changed but as soon as he did, Moody, Tonks, and Shacklebolt were sacked by Fudge. Malfoy filled the power void and the Auror division became the militant right hand to the Minister.

“Things degenerated from then on. Several supporters of muggle rights disappeared and were found dead months later. New laws were passed that supported pure-bloods and made anyone of less stature second-class citizens.” Hermione took a deep breath and looked to the floor. “They began sending muggle-born wizards and witches to training camps ... Harry, it seemed like World War II was starting all over again ...”

His mind was reeling at the news. “Concentration camps? Don’t tell me that gas chambers were employed!” He felt his anger start to rise as he processed what this could mean.

“No, nobody has died yet.” Susan said with a wan smile. “There have been a few that were released, but they’ve changed ... Almost as if they were inducted into the Death Eaters or another type of organization.”

Hermione nodded her agreement. “Justin Finch-Fletchley was one of the ones that made it out. He went into Auror training immediately afterwards and should be finishing his training in a few months if the old training schedule hasn’t changed.”

“You’ve been able to stay hidden ...” Harry said quietly as one of his dreams entered his mind. “The emergency portkey?” He asked as he looked to Hermione.

She nodded. “A week after you disappeared, a squad of the new Auror Division arrived at our flat. The only thing that went through my mind was the emergency portkey when I saw how they were acting.” She smiled slightly before continuing. “I had left it in my coat pocket in case I needed it while I was away from home and when they pulled their wands on me, I activated it.” She squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Next time, tell me how many jumps it takes you on. I was ready to vomit after the seventh teleportation!”

Harry flinched. “I don’t remember setting that charm, but I’m sorry ...” He grinned apologetically and shifted slightly in the bed. “I assume I had that set so it would be difficult to trace where the portkey ultimately exited ...”

“It was impossible to trace the path. I know, I tried.” Hermione said with a laugh. “It deposited me in Hogsmeade, close enough to Hogwarts so that I could warn the others. It didn’t take long after notifying Albus, Hagrid, and Minerva before the first of them showed up. It was brilliant of you to use the map as the portkey because we were able to safely exit the castle undetected. The stash of invisibility cloaks you left in the tunnel helped as well.”

“Was I paranoid or something?” Harry asked with a shake of his head.

“It gets much better.” Susan said with a grin. “Nobody but Gringotts, you, and Hermione knew just how much money you had in your family vault and trust ...”

“As soon as you disappeared, there were several protocols that went into effect at the bank. All of our money transferred to a different vault along with the activation of several Fidelius Charms.” Hermione continued. “Houses and flats all over the U.K. and in several other countries became unplottable and you were the only secret keeper. The only way we knew about them was a piece of parchment that Hedwig delivered to me when we arrived at Grimmauld Place.”

“I would think that Grimmauld Place would have been rendered unsafe when Mundungus ... Wait, Dumbledore was the secret keeper for Sirius’ house ... Fletcher couldn’t have told anyone.”

Hermione nodded. “They still can’t find it, but we can’t stay in one place for too long, the activity tends to draw Aurors to the area and they start patrolling the streets looking for anyone. The new Order rings are what keep us hidden from them when we need to.”

Harry looked at the intricate, knotwork ring and smiled at its location. “I didn’t notice that I put it on where my wedding ring used to be.”

“That was your wedding band, Harry.” Hermione said with a smile. She held up her hand and the female version of his ring was firmly in place where her wedding band should be. “I never took it off ... I refused to believe that you were dead.” She smiled at him lovingly and it was all he could do to keep from pulling her into a hug.

Harry winked at Hermione and turned to Susan. “I’m starting to feel a bit tired ...” He said with a yawn then looked at Hermione.

She yawned as well and grinned at him. “Yawns are contagious!”

He laughed and smiled apologetically at Susan. “I need to get some sleep, could you make sure nobody disturbs me?”

Susan looked at the couple and smiled. “I’ll leave you two to get some rest then.” She stood and her chair disappeared. “I’ll let the others know that you’re fine, so far, and I’ll get to work on that research. We need to find out how to remove that blocking charm, there’s no telling what will happen if you try to cast a spell with it in place.” She smiled again and left the room. Voices could be heard from the hall and Hermione made sure the door was firmly locked.

“I think the bed might need a resizing?” Harry asked with a mischievous grin.

Hermione returned the expression and with a wave of her wand, the bed doubled in size. “Are you sure about this?” She asked cautiously. “There’s so much you don’t remember ...”

Harry took her hand and directed her into the now empty space beside him. “What I don’t remember, I’ll have to relearn.” He said with a smile. “I do know we are married and I know we’ve kissed at least once or twice ...” His eyes twinkled at her laugh. “I don’t know if I’m the right man for you still, with these memories I have you only existed in a dream ... I do know that I Love you, Hermione ... I think that’s why things didn’t work when I was Scott ...” His face screwed up for a moment. “Was I actually born on July thirty-first?”

Hermione nodded. “In nineteen-eighty.” She said quietly.

“Hold on, I’m not thirty-five?” He asked incredulously.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “You’re twenty-six.”

“This is going to take some getting used to.” He said with a grin. “If I’ve only been gone for three years, that means ... I never slept with Annie, I never really married her ...” His eyes lit up at the realization.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Hermione said with a frown as she rolled to her side so she could face him. “Just what happened?”

He told her what he remembered from three years ago, his first memories after waking in the hospital and the ones before his missing time. Harry described his relationship with his ex-wife and how she’d grown distant from him after he’d been released from the hospital. There wasn’t much to tell when it came to the marriage with Annie, she’d divorced him six months later and he moved to New York.

Hermione seemed relieved at what he’d told her and as he retold all that happened during the past three years of living another man’s life, she had repositioned herself so her head was on his chest, her arm was around his midsection, and her top leg was resting on his thigh. Somewhere during the retelling, Harry noticed that her breathing had become slow and even and he looked down to see her sleeping face once again. He smiled to himself and kissed the top of her head, which seemed vaguely familiar along with the scent of her hair, and he pulled the blankets up over the two of them. He whispered, “Goodnight,” before his own eyes betrayed him and his lead-weighted eyelids hid her angelic visage from him.

Harry looked at the clock above his monitor and smiled brightly before shutting down the latest project the technical director at MacroCorp had assigned him.

“Hey, Harry, tonight’s the big night, isn’t it?” Mike asked with a grin from his desk behind him. “Are you taking Annie to that Sting concert she’s been raving about?”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “She’s been wanting to go for the past six months! I thought we could make it a weekend getaway, you know, a bed and breakfast after the concert ...”

Mike laughed at the dreamy look in his friend’s eyes. “Well, do everything I’d do and everything else I wouldn’t!”

“Are you thinking about my wife in some perverted manner, Mike?” Harry grinned evilly as he stood from his desk.

“What sane man wouldn’t? She’s a knockout! But your knockout ...” Mike laughed again. “Have a good weekend, man, I’ll see you Monday for our presentation.”

Harry clapped his friend on the back and soon found himself in the parking lot looking for his ride. A few moments later, the Thestral driven carriage pulled up and He stepped into the compartment, occupying the only available seat.

“Who do you think the new professor is this year?” A strange blonde said in a sing-song voice across from him. He looked at her outfit in confusion wondering why she was wearing a bottle cap necklace.

“As long as it isn’t Professor Toad from last year.” Ron said with a huff next to her. “I can’t believe they actually let a frog teach at school!”

“Why not, Ronald?” The blonde girl asked in a somewhat dreamy fashion. “They let a werewolf teach the class two years ago, why not a toad?”

“She was an amphibian, of course, but why do I have to keep reminding you that she was not just a toad or simply a frog. Have you never heard of Bullywogs?” Hermione piped in next to Harry. He jumped slightly at her voice but relaxed when she set her hand on his arm. “It was such a terrible thing that she did to you, Harry, I’m surprised that you didn’t notify the headmaster straight away ...”

“What?” Harry stuttered in confusion. “I-I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Annie will help you remember when we get to the school, Harry.” The blonde said again as a smile spread across her lips. “I can’t believe that you two got married already ...”

“Why did you leave me for her, Harry?” Hermione asked in a hurt voice. “What did I do? D-Didn’t you mean it when you said you loved me? Why did you leave me? I was waiting at home and you broke your promise, you said you’d be back ...” Tears were forming in her eyes and Harry looked at her in confusion.

“I-I don’t remember marrying you, Hermione, I’m sorry ...” He said as comfortingly as he could. “I-I know I love you, but I’m married to Annie now ...”

“Mate, how could you say something like that to your wife!” Ron growled from across the carriage. “I think you should leave, she’s suffered enough ...”

“Ron, wait, I honestly don’t remember!” Harry pleaded as Ron took him by the scruff of his shirt and tugged him towards the door.

“Why don’t you walk the rest of the way, you’re not wanted here!” Ron said angrily and shoved Harry to the muddy ground outside.

Harry watched the carriage pull away and he heard the laughter of his best friends echo from the slowly shrinking buggy. “WAIT!” He shouted and ran after them. He slipped and slid in the muddy road when a strange feeling overcame him. He looked at the ground and his eyes went wide as the spillover started to freeze. Without thinking he pulled his wand from his suit and pointed it at a dark figure. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” He shouted at the top of his lungs.

The expected appearance of his father did not happen as he doubled over in pain. “What’s happening ...” He gasped through gritted teeth as the dark figures floated closer and closer.

“HARRY, CALM DOWN!” Hermione was holding him down in the bed as his struggles woke him up. “Harry, you’re having a nightmare ... It’s ok, I’m here ...” She whispered to him lovingly as his eyesight reasserted itself.

He was covered in cold, clammy sweat and his breathing was labored. Harry nodded quietly and lay back into his pillows as he wiped away a stream of tears with trembling hands.

“What time is it?” He croaked as he looked into her startled eyes.

“It’s late, around two or so.” She whispered quietly. “It took me almost a half hour to wake you ...”

“I was having the strangest dream.” He whispered hoarsely. Harry furrowed his brow and tried to remember what was happening. The tendrils of ether that dreams are made of had already loosened their tentative hold on his conscious mind and he shook his head. “I just remember a carriage ride with you, Ron, and a blonde girl.” He explained softly. “Then Ron threw me from the carriage ...”

“Was it being pulled by a Thestral?” Hermione offered along with a glass of water. She frowned at his confusion and sat beside him. “Thestrals are magical horses, like Pegasi.” She explained while smoothing down his unruly hair. “They’re invisible unless you’ve seen someone die ...”

Harry nodded. “They’re black and wizards think their omens of bad luck.” He finished. Hermione smiled and nodded. “I remember books five, six, and the Fantastic Creatures book.” He explained. “I don’t remember ever seeing one ...”

“Your memory is coming back, somewhat.” Hermione said with a slight smile. “That’s a good sign. The blonde that you saw in your dream is Luna Weasley. Actually she was Luna Lovegood then.”

“She and Ron?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione nodded. “Two years after we graduated Ron and Luna were married.” She explained with a smile. “It was a beautiful wedding.”

Harry shivered and pulled the blanket back over him. “Any chance we can turn the air conditioning down a notch?” He asked as he watched his breath appear before him.

Hermione looked at him strangely. “There’s no air conditioning ...” She shot out of the bed and ripped the blankets off of him. “QUICK! We have to get out!” She grabbed her bag and his luggage after pulling him from the warm folds of the blankets. She ran to the door of the room and pulled out her wand. “Take your bags, I need to be flexible.”

Harry did as he was told and quickly slipped his shoes on and his backpack over his shoulders. “What’s happening?”

“You’ve read the books.” Hermione hissed as she shook Ron awake.

Harry’s face dropped. “Dementors?” He whispered in disbelief. “They actually exist ...”

“DEMENTORS?!” Ron shot out of his chair and began waking everyone. “CODE RED! We need to vacate! Emergency portkeys only!”

The chill in the air began to grow and Harry turned to the raspy, rattling breath he heard behind him. Hermione pushed him against the doorjamb and flicked her wand towards the looming figure. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” She bellowed at the top of her lungs and a shining, silver otter shot from the end and barreled into the chest of the intruder. There was a low hum as her Patronus burned a deep, smoking hole into the Dementor’s body. A moment later, the shriveled, ashen husk of some creature was crumbling to the floor.

“We don’t have much time!” Hermione pulled a pocket watch from her purse and glanced at the hands. “Everyone but Ron, you, and I are out! We need to get to the portkey!”

Ron barreled down the stairs with a sock that was in dire need of darning. “I’ve got it!” He said with a heaving gasp of air. “Grab it, quick!”

Without a word, Hermione and Harry both took hold of the wool and cotton garment that had seen better days. There was a tingling sensation behind his navel that felt oddly familiar and he was suddenly pulled forward into a gust of wind and color. They landed hard in a pile of gravel when he felt the tug again and was suddenly waist deep in water. He yanked his laptop out of the lake just as the portkey activated again. He felt Hermione bouncing against his shoulder this time as they fell over onto the soft, springy ground of a moor.

“What a ride!” Harry said while he attempted to keep his head from spinning. “So that’s what portkey travel feels like?”

Ron groaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “Harry, when you get your memory back, I’m going to ask you why the bloody hell you put so many jumps in one portkey.”

“One jump is traceable.” Harry said as he stood and offered his help to Hermione. “Each successive jump scatters the portkey signature so it becomes untraceable.”

“Bloody hell!” Ron said as his eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t remember anything!”

“I don’t, it just came to me ...” Harry said as he rubbed his temple.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione asked nervously as Ron scouted the area.

“Just a headache ...” He said queasily. “I don’t think it’s going to get any better.”

Hermione waved her wand over his head and frowned. “I don’t understand ... You haven’t been using any magic ...”

“I think I tried to cast a Patronus Charm in my dream.” He whispered as the pain increased. “C-Could that have had an effect?” He sniffed a few times and wiped his nose and looked up at Hermione’s gasp. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re bleeding again.” She said hurriedly. “Quick, take off your knapsack! I put some potions in there in case something happened!”

Harry did as he was instructed and nearly fell to his knees in the process. “I guess they wanted to kill me off if I remembered or if I attempted magic.” He said hollowly. He felt flushed and shivers began to race up and down his spine.

“You need to drink this, Harry, not too fast or you’ll vomit!” Hermione pressed a small vial in his hands and he brought it to his lips gingerly.

“UGH! What is this stuff?” He grimaced suddenly and watched helplessly as the world began to spin around him. After a few more sips, he’d drained the entire contents of the stone jar and handed it back to his wife.

“Susan brewed a batch of healing draught before she left.” Hermione explained as she replaced the vial in his backpack. “She used what we found in your medical scan to pinpoint the proper potion. It reverses the effect of the blocking charm should something trigger it. How’s your nose?”

Harry experimentally wiped at his nose and found the bleeding had stopped. “No more blood.” He said as he gently shook his head. “The dizziness is there, but not as bad.”

“We should have a few minutes for you to rest before we can portkey to the next safe house.” She explained while scanning the darkness.

“Can you scan for Ron magically?” Harry asked quietly. “We should get under cover as quickly as we can.”

Hermione looked at him strangely then muttered a spell. A green light shined out of it and she slowly turned in a circle. “He’s not here.” She said quietly.

“Is he out of range?”

Hermione shook her head. “Unless he can run two kilometers in the span of a few minutes ... He shouldn’t be out of range.”

Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and he glanced quickly around. “Someone’s here.” He whispered hoarsely. Hermione spun around again then nervously looked to the sky.

“H-Harry?” She whispered in a small, panicked voice.

He was shrugging his bag over his shoulders and scooping up his luggage when she backed into him. “I don’t think it’s safe here.” He said quietly as the feeling intensified. “I’ve never felt safe outside in the dark ...”

“T-The moon is full and we’re on the moors ...” She said in a terrified squeak.

“Do you have the portkey?” Harry hissed to her desperately. Hermione began fumbling in her bag and pulled out an old, broken eggbeater. “How long till it activates?”

“I don’t know.” She whimpered as she turned to face him.

Harry opened his mouth to say something when a low, angry growl echoed in the darkness beyond his range of vision. The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck felt like a thousand needles stuck in his overly sensitive skin. “Werewolf?” He asked in a childlike voice, not believing he actually said the word.

Hermione nodded in a barley perceptive motion. “Grab. The. Portkey.” She whispered as a snort echoed in the darkness.

Harry slowly reached for the inconspicuous traveling device when the beast let loose an agonizingly frightening howl. Terror filled Harry’s body like ice water gushing through his veins and without thinking he grabbed Hermione’s wrist as well as the portkey and pulled her into a desperate run.

The slow, even grunts of something large followed after them immediately and Harry pushed his wife in front of him. “RUN!” He shouted at her as they both picked up speed.

A new sensation flowed over him this time and a split second before he saw the red light flare to life in front of him he tackled Hermione to the cushiony floor of the moor. He heard a yelp as the light hit the werewolf square in the chest and another as a blue hit it from the side. The beast stood on its hind legs and howled in rage as a yellow blast shot from Hermione’s wand into its sensitive eyes. With a growl it bounded back into the darkness, leaving the two of them alone, surrounded by unknown wizards.

“Are you two ok?” An old man said from the front. Hermione spun her wand at the noise and Harry turned to see who was stalking in from their flank.

He heard Hermione sigh in relief and he spun to face the old wizard.

“Harry Potter?” He said in quiet shock before stumbling into a seated position. “Is it really you?” The old man raised his trembling hand towards the couple and Hermione let out a short laugh of relief.

“He’s back ... He came back?” An elderly woman stumbled into view from where the blue light had come. “Harry Potter?”

“Albus, Minerva, we don’t have much time before the werewolf returns.” Hermione said excitedly. “I didn’t know the portkey brought us here!”

Harry glanced at the two then back where the lycanthrope had retreated. “Minerva? Albus? Then, was that ...”

“Remus, yes.” The old man said quickly. “He doesn’t give up so easily when he’s in this form, come, we don’t have much time before he’s restored and out for our blood.”

Hermione took his hand and pulled Harry along with the surprisingly brisk pace that the elderly witch and wizard were keeping. “Where are we going?”

“A place safer than Hogwarts.” Hermione said with a dazzling smile. “I’ve only apparated here, I didn’t know it was surrounded by moors.”

“Safer than Hogwarts?”

“Just watch and see.” She said with a smile.

Harry watched their guides as they skirted around a large bog, each one heading in a different direction but Hermione kept walking directly towards the murky waters. “Hermione, shouldn’t we be following them?” He asked concernedly as they drew closer to the shore.

“I am. Just watch, Harry, I can’t divulge the secret seeing as I’m not its keeper, but I can pull you along with me.” She didn’t stop and Harry watched as the bog suddenly disappeared to reveal a moat and a large castle.

“What the hell?” He looked around in confusion as Hermione slowed her pace a bit.

“We still don’t have much time, Harry, Remus can see through the disillusionment charm. He can’t, however, cross the moat.” She stopped in front of their guides and Harry’s awestruck gaze landed on the elderly couple.

“It’s been so long, Harry.” Albus said with a smile. “Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Harry said quietly as he watched the look of hope pool in the old man’s eyes. “Albus ... As in Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts?” Harry asked quietly.

The old man nodded. “And I’m sure you remember Professor McGonagall?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t remember much of anything ...”

At the surprised frowns, Hermione smiled quickly. “Strong memory charm and a blocking spell.” She explained. “We should be getting inside if we don’t want to be ripped to shreds ...”

“Right, right ...” Albus looked at Harry concernedly and turned to the castle wall. He whispered something that Harry didn’t quite hear and the drawbridge slowly lowered itself across the watery barricade.

Somewhere in the distance, Remus howled at the moon. Harry pushed Hermione in front of him and the four rushed to the safety of the hidden fortress. Once they were across, the large, metallic door was pulled swiftly into its resting place with a loud clang.

Harry glanced around the large courtyard and walked slowly alongside Hermione as they continued onto the main grounds towards the central keep. The castle was everything that He had dreamed or remembered seeing. There were hundreds of three story houses lining the inner walls, five towering spires reached into the sky in front of him, and lights were glittered from hundreds of windows.

They walked up the marble staircase to the main keep and continued to a large set of double doors. Embossed in gold was a large, calligraphic ‘P’ surrounded on both sides by rearing, golden gryphons. Harry’s eyes went wide as the doors opened and four long tables with an even longer one across the far wall came into view.

Seated at those tables were hundreds of children from very young to near manhood. They all stopped what they were doing and looked up at the four travelers as they entered the room. Silence fell when every set of eyes fell upon Harry and whispers began echoing through the air like a swarm of insects.

Hermione pulled Harry along with her to the front table. There were several people sitting in front of golden plates, their food forgotten and their mouths hanging open in shock at the sight before them. One rather large man, larger than any human had the right to be stood suddenly and a look of profound relief could be seen in his beetle-like eyes.

“’Arry?” He whispered as if he’d just woken from a dream.

Harry looked at the large man before him and nodded with as much surprise as the one to ask his name. Hermione stopped the tall man from rushing down the steps with a look and what could only be described as a half-giant sat reluctantly in his chair.

Dumbledore reached the center of the table and raised his hands. “I believe the tide in this war has finally turned.” He said with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes. “It seems our own, Mr. Potter has returned to us!” The room erupted with cheers and Harry began to feel very small. He looked around the room nervously and backed into Hermione.

The old wizard stepped down from the raised platform and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Welcome to the secret training grounds of the liberation front.” Albus said with a smile.

Hermione noticed Harry’s reaction to the cheering crowd almost immediately though Dumbledore appeared to be ignorant of the fear that had begun to shine in Harry’s wide, emerald eyes.

“Albus, now’s not a good time,” she whispered imploringly, gesturing with her eyes to her shell shocked husband. “I’m going to take him to our quarters...”

Dumbledore looked upon Harry with a saddened expression clouding the twinkles that had nearly quadrupled at the sudden return of his long-lost friend. “Very well, take him away quickly,” he said in a hurried whisper. “The spells they’ve used on him are far more insidious than I expected.”

Hermione nodded and gently took Harry’s arm in her hands. “Come, Love, let’s get some privacy...”

Harry could only nod dumbly as the blood in his face continued to drain away, leaving him with a deathly white complexion. As the two of them hurried away, the cheers died down to a low rumbling of astonishment.

“Where’s he going?!” a young boy yelled incredulously. “He can help get me mam back!”

“Or my brother!” an older girl shouted angrily.

“SILENCE!” Dumbledore’s voice broke against the wave of sudden anger that had sprung forth from the once cheering and happy voices. “You will all please finish your evening feast! All will be answered in time!” he bellowed in the same commanding voice that triggered something deep within Harry’s mind.

“Troll?” Harry whispered in a terrified voice. “A Troll in the dungeon...”

“Shh,” Hermione cooed as they turned down another corridor. “That was long ago, Love, the castle is warded against them...”

Harry didn’t know what was happening to him; his world seemed to be slipping away. If he was really Harry Potter, how could he have withstood the crowds that cheered him on during Quidditch matches? How was he able to function at any of the Tri-Wizard Tournament tasks? If the books were really from his journals, how could he truly be the hero that saved them all from Voldemort?

“Hermione and Harry Potter,” Hermione spoke in a clear voice. Harry thought she’d stepped three feet shy of sane when he realized she’d spoken to a bare stretch of wall.

He jumped when said wall pursed its rocky lips and spoke in a gravelly voice. “Welcome home, Mr. Potter,” it said in what could only be the most cheerful voice a stone wall could emit. Then it opened wide, its lower lip sinking beneath the floor and its gray teeth elongated into a door. A large knob appeared and Hermione turned it with the familiarity of a woman holding her child. Harry stared in awe as she pulled him into the gaping maw of an archway and into the most luxuriously decorated room he’d ever seen.

“Welcome home, Love,” Hermione said with tears welling in her eyes and a wide, beaming smile dominating her beautiful face.

Harry had recovered enough from his initial shock in the Great Hall and, with hands that were still trembling, turned and pulled Hermione into a desperate hug.

“Are you ok now?” she asked softly, beginning to rub his back in soothing circles. “Why didn’t you tell me you suffered from Enochlophobia?”

“What? You mean my fear of crowds?” Harry asked with a shuddering breath, not wanting to give up the warmth the woman in his arms provided. Annie never made me feel like this... he thought sadly before shaking his head...

“You never had it before, could it have been implanted?” Hermione asked aloud as she led Harry to a sofa that sat in front of a roaring fire. She absently set her bag on the floor next to the end table and Harry set his luggage close by as well.

He sat with a grateful sigh and watched as Hermione gracefully took her seat next to him on the plush furnishing. As his eyes scanned her lithe form, he finally stopped at her face. Her rosy lips were pursed and her eyes had taken on a special gleam. Instant recognition sparked in his mind at the sight of Hermione’s ‘analysis face,’ the one where she was trying to piece clues together.

She turned to him and smiled almost immediately. Her eyes roamed his face hungrily, taking in every curve, color, and hair. Hermione lifted her hand to his cheek with a maddening slowness and Harry could feel the trembling, chilled fingers gently caress his face.

Harry’s eyes closed as a sigh escaped his lips and his much warmer hand covered that of his wife’s.

“I’ve missed you...” she whispered as her voice hitched at the onset of a sob.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long...” he replied as his eyes fluttered opened, revealing the woman before him as no longer the specter that haunted his dreams for so long. “I’ve always felt that something was missing... I never thought I would find that piece again...”

The anguished relief that was welling within her suddenly exploded as Hermione rushed into his inviting arms. The empty spot at the back of Harry’s head seemed nearly filled, his soul feeling more complete than he had ever felt in his life. Within seconds, he found himself desperately trying to devour her lips as a hunger he’d only dreamt of suddenly overcame him.

“Harry, it’s been so long...” Hermione panted madly in his ear as he made short work of her long, graceful neck. “I’ve needed you so badly...”

Harry pulled back to regard Hermione’s face. “I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” she whispered softly, her finger darting to his soft lips. “No more apologies, Love...”

“No more apologies,” he breathed huskily as his lips covered hers once again. Within moments, his shirt was discarded on the floor and Hermione was divested of hers as well. With one fluid motion, Harry had her in his arms and he began a stumbled walk towards the bedroom just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Bloody hell,” Harry hissed in frustration.

Hermione sighed in defeat as she motioned for him to let her down. He did so with hesitation, but the soft look on her face quelled any anger at the interruption. The two of them retrieved their discarded clothing and donned the garments hastily.

Hermione brushed her hair out of her face and smoothed her blouse before approaching the door. “Yes?” she asked tentatively.

“Hermione, it’s me,” Ron’s muffled voice wafted from the other side of the portal.

She looked back at Harry quickly before letting their redheaded friend into the room. “Where did you go?!” Hermione asked in both anger and relief. “When you left to scout the area and I scanned for you, you didn’t show up!”

“Remus almost got me,” Ron admitted with a breath of relief. “I had to apparate or Luna would’ve lost a husband.”

“YOU APPARATED OUTSIDE THE WARDS?!” Hermione screeched. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!”

“Tonks intercepted the apparation report before it hit the duplicating memo!” Ron shot back quickly, trying to calm the enraged woman before she went completely spare.

“It’s lucky for you that she was at the Ministry, Ron...” Hermione said with a glare.

“Hermione, Love, calm down,” Harry said soothingly and set his hands gently on her shoulders. “It’s in the past, everything’s ok for now...”

“That’s right, Hermione,” Ron said apologetically. “If I didn’t have to apparate, I wouldn’t have.”

“I-I know,” Hermione said with a resigned sigh, her anger having ebbed from her body through Harry’s contact. She reached up and took his hand in hers before slumping back into his arms. “I’m sorry, Ron...”

“Don’t apologize, Hermione,” Ron said with a slight grin. “I wasn’t thinking and should have found another way...”

“Where did you apparate to?” Harry asked quickly, trying to change the subject to something more palatable to soothe the tension in the air.

“Diagon Alley,” Ron said with a shrug. “From there I used my Order ring to get back to the castle. I had to wait for a few Aurors to pass by first. I don’t think I’ll get used to the number of hops this ring puts you through...” Ron shook his head then slumped on the sofa as if he owned the place, not noticing the incredulous stares of both Harry and Hermione. “So, have you remembered anything else?”

Harry sighed inwardly and looked to his wife who was sharing the same thought he was. “Only bits and pieces from the night I disappeared... and a brief memory of Luna,” he admitted, purposely leaving out any great detail. “I still have all of my... Scott’s memories in my head though.”

Ron nodded, absorbing the information and saying nothing for a few moments. “Nothing else then?”

Harry shook his head and sighed. “I really wish I could...”

“I know, mate,” Ron said with a frustrated sigh. “When I get my hands on Lockhart, I’m going to rip him to shreds this time!”

“He removed part of the charm,” Hermione said from Harry’s side. “Every time Harry would remember something, the charm began killing him... If Lockhart hadn’t done what he did, I don’t think Harry would have been with us much longer...”

“But why this elaborate cover-up?” Harry asked suddenly. “Why hide me in the States when they could have just killed me outright? Why block my memory and my ability to use magic by killing me if I remembered anything or attempted a spell?!”

Ron looked Harry square in the eyes, his own wide and holding a look of disbelief. “They used a blocking charm on you?” his voice echoed dryly in the semi-dark room.

Harry and Hermione nodded in chorus. “Even if I try to do something in my sleep...” Harry said evenly. “I dreamt I was casting the Patronus charm before the Dementor attack and shortly after that I started having the same problems I did with the memory charm.”

Ron looked to Hermione, the two of them sharing a silent word while Harry looked on. He knew what they were saying and he cleared his throat. “I’m right here,” he said dryly.

His wife and his best mate turned to him with guilty looks on their faces and it was Hermione who responded first.

“I’m sorry, Love,” she said as she went to his side and wrapped him in her arms. “Ron has been helping us for so long, it’s become second nature to talk with glances like you and I did...”

“Do,” Harry corrected quietly. “I know what you were saying and it won’t come to that, the counter is being researched, isn’t it?”

Ron sighed in relief. “It was caught on the diagnostic then?” When Harry and Hermione both nodded a smile spread across Ron’s lips. “That should make things easier... I wouldn’t want to try to blindly counter that curse...”

“You better leave that to the charms experts,” Hermione said with a snort of laughter. “I don’t want a repeat of seventh year!”

Ron laughed heartily and shook his head. “I can still remember the look on Neville’s face...” Ron’s voice trailed off and a troubled look settled in his eyes, all laughter in the room dying down.

“What happened?” Harry asked quietly, suddenly feeling like a third wheel in a group of people who shared far more than he could hope to.

“Neville,” Hermione sniffed. “Poor Ginny...”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Harry said softly. “Why doesn’t Ginny know about the journals? Surely she’s read the books? Weren’t we close at one point?”

Hermione looked into Harry with haunted eyes. “You were... but she and Neville—”

“She’s in St. Mungo’s,” Ron said sullenly. “So is Neville... Some curse that he’d taken trying to save a newly found Muggle-born set of twins... The family was able to get here safely with a Portkey, but Neville hasn’t woken up yet, they don’t know what to do at the hospital...” Ron stopped as his voice broke and he wiped away a set of tears that started cascading over the stubble on his cheeks.

“He... he and Ginny had just gotten married,” Hermione said softly. “When she found out about the curse and his condition... she had a nervous breakdown and doesn’t even recognize her family anymore...” Hermione held onto Harry as tightly as she could. “She couldn’t know because that’s when we’d finally gotten the books published.”

A tear had slipped from Harry’s eye at the news. He couldn’t remember the two friends he’d supposedly had during his life before he’d been abducted but it hurt all the same.

“Ron, do you have a room here?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Ron said after a moment.

“Is Luna there?” Harry asked without inflection in his voice.

“She is,” Ron said, a spark of realization floating along with his words. “I’ll see you two in the morning, I need to be with my wife,” he whispered after he’d gotten to his feet. “It’s good to have you back, mate,” Ron said with a brotherly hug then left the room silently.

When the door was closed firmly behind their friend, Harry looked to the woman in his arms. Her shaking shoulders had finally come to a halt and he lifted her face to his.

“Close your eyes, Love,” he whispered quietly. Without protest, Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed and Harry bent to kiss her tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered even as her arms tightened around his neck.

“I love you too,” she choked out and kissed him more passionately.

They both decided to ignore any further visitors as they stripped off their clothes and staggered back to their bedroom, finding it difficult to walk while still holding one another as if they’d both vanish.

The smirk on Sirius’ face fell away as the curse hit him in the chest. Harry strained against strong, unseen arms as he watched his godfather fall backwards in a perfect arc and past the veil into the darkness beyond.

He kicked and screamed as he tried to follow after, to pull Sirius back through the gateway but Remus kept him held fast to watch helplessly as his godfather left his life for the last time.

“SSSSIIIIIIIIRIIIIIUU—“

“—UUUSSSSS!” Harry sat bolt upright, startling the already teary-eyed Hermione that had been shaking him by the shoulders in an attempt to wake him.

“Harry! It’s ok,” she said quickly, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “It’s ok...”

He looked around the room in confusion and panic, wondering why everything was blurry. When Hermione held him to her, his senses returned. “Th-that was a... a dream, right? Th-that was just a dream...”

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry...” Hermione said sadly as she cradled his naked form to hers.

“That was a memory then, wasn’t it?” Harry said softly, returning her embrace. An overwhelming sense of sadness overcame him as the scene played itself in his head once again. “Tonks was thorough, wasn’t she?” Harry whispered into her bushy brown hair. Tears were leaving warm trails down his cheeks even as the voice of a young boy’s began echoing in his head. It was my fault that he died! it cried over and over, full of remorse. Harry recognized it as his fifteen year-old voice.

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” Hermione whispered as she smoothed his hair, her warm breath floating across his ear. “It wasn’t your fault...”

“I-I know...” Harry said hoarsely, having a hard time swallowing the ball of guilt that was welling in his throat. A sudden thought occurred to him and he ran his hand over a very faint scar that lay across Hermione’s midsection.

“That wound was healed a long time ago, Love,” Hermione cooed again in the same voice she’d been using to calm and reassure him.

“I need to read my journals,” he said softly.

“I know,” Hermione whispered in return, kissing him tenderly on the lips and stroking his sweat and tear soaked cheek. “Tonks is bringing them and your pensieve later this week when she can get away from the Literature Faire in Edinburgh.”

“I have a pensieve as well?” Harry asked in surprise.

“It helped you so much after the war,” Hermione whispered lovingly as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I can still remember how storing just a few of your memories in it helped you sleep. After you’d had time to examine them from a different perspective, you split them all, leaving copies in the pensieve.”

“Did I leave all my memories there?” he asked with a slight bit of hope woven in his voice.

“No, you didn’t,” Hermione sighed sadly. “If you had, we could have overridden the memory charm,” she explained as she cradled his head to her breasts and felt his arms slip around her waist. “You pulled every dark memory you’d ever had and studied them... I hadn’t seen you so at peace with yourself before then, Love...” Hermione kissed the top of his head gently then continued running her fingers through his hair.

“It’s a start,” Harry said sleepily from his comfortable position.

“Please take your time sorting through them...” Hermione cautioned. “There’s a lot there that will open old wounds and you’d worked so hard to heal them...”

“Love... about Neville—”

“I’ve done as much research as I could with our limited library,” Hermione said softly. “All I know is it’s somehow connected to the same phenomena as the Dementor’s kiss. There’s no known cure...”

Harry nodded slowly as a yawn escaped his lips.

“Sleep, Love, I’ll be right here,” Hermione whispered as if her breath were but a zephyr. In her arms, Harry felt warm and safe even as unconsciousness descended upon him the tendrils that nightmares extend couldn’t reach him.

Harry woke to the sound of chanting outside his bedroom window. Not the shouting of one person, but the combined efforts of several hundred. He immediately noted that the woman he loved, his wife Hermione, was still cradling him to her. Harry tried not to wake her, but his eyelashes flicked across her bare breast and she started awake.

“Hmm? Harry, are you ok?” she asked sleepily then immediately snapped to full cohesiveness.

“I’m fine, Love,” Harry said quietly as he stretched then placed an arm around her waist with the other propping his head to better see her. “How did you sleep?”

“I’ve not slept so soundly since after we were married,” she said with a satisfied smile spreading ever so slowly across her rosy lips. “I’ve missed you so much...”

“I know,” Harry said with a gentle kiss. “I’m home now...”

“And I’m not letting you leave me again!” Hermione said with a wicked smile.

Harry grinned in return when the sounds that had woken him rained in from the window once again. “What’s going on outside?” Harry asked curiously, glancing at the paned glass.

“Training,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Everyone that we could save or that wanted to fight against the new government is learning the ways of the Auror, Unspeakable, and Healer as a preliminary requirement.”

“All three professions?” Harry said with a shock. “That’s a hell of a lot of information they have to take in, not to mention the basics!”

“Its necessary,” Hermione said with a sigh. “As soon as the sorting hat determines that a new witch or wizard has been born or discovered, an envoy is sent to escort them here,” she explained quietly. “Especially Muggle-born children... though there’ve been a few leaks about whom we’re trying to save; that’s how Neville was caught unawares...”

Harry nodded quietly, mulling over the other questions that had come to him the previous night. “The castle...?”

“Yours,” Hermione said with a slight smile. “One of the contingencies you’d planned... I didn’t even know it existed until Hedwig delivered her message. It was hell trying to find her with that blasted disillusionment charm on her...”

Harry’s eyes widened yet again. “We own a castle?” he asked incredulously.

“Technically, it’s yours...” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “We’re married but you’re the lord of the place, it seems the inheritance charms were created well before women could own property...”

“So, I’m guessing the instructions I left were to use it as a new base—”

“Partly,” Hermione interrupted with a smile. “There are literally thousands of safe houses that are scattered across the globe. I always wondered what you were up to on your missions abroad...” she said with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, when we realized how dangerous the new laws the Ministry put into effect were, we decided to move the school here.”

“What about Hogwarts?” Harry asked inquisitively. “What about all the students before?”

“It was during break,” Hermione explained softly. “It was the first time that there weren’t any students in the castle so it wasn’t difficult to evacuate. With the Ministry’s approval, the Aurors were able to slip past the wards on the grounds and storm the castle. They found it empty and we couldn’t take enough with us...

“After that, Albus set his agenda into motion,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’re not the only paranoid wizard out there, Harry... apparently he’d planned for this possibility. Envoys were sent out secretly to contact all the families and students to warn them. Seamus and Dean were instrumental in getting the word out to many of the Muggle-born witches and wizards. Minerva and the other professors, save Snape, were all able to contact the rest.”

“Snape? What was he doing?”

“We don’t know,” Hermione admitted with a frown. “Apparently he’d been on a mission for Albus... We still haven’t heard from him. When Hedwig caught up with us and we’d discovered what was happening,” she continued, “we started sending people to safe houses. Just after that, Mundungus turned on us and Justin was captured along with several Muggle-born and their families. Kingsley killed Dung not long afterwards and went into hiding with Moody.

“Your letter revealed the castle and it accepted me as temporary steward while you were away. Albus, Minerva, Ron and I decided it was the best place to hide everyone. You don’t know the scope of protective wards and charms on this place...” she smiled sheepishly and laughed. “Well, I guess you did know at one point...”

“So that’s when you decided to train everyone?” Harry asked with a slight smile.

“Not long afterwards,” Hermione conceded. “Remus volunteered to roam the moors each full moon to keep the legend going and the people out... The Ministry doesn’t care about werewolves anymore... It’s almost as if Voldemort were in charge.”

Harry frowned at that statement. “But I thought I’d destroyed him... The books—”

“You did... We did,” Hermione said confidently. “It was a terrible fight and I’d almost lost both you and Ron that day... But you’ll see that soon enough,” she added in a whisper. “I’m not sure what happened at the Ministry. I do know that Draco had somehow helped our side towards the end by killing his own father...” Harry nodded that he’d read about that in the final book. “But I think something snapped in him that day... He disappeared for quite some time before becoming an Auror. Nobody knows where he went...”

Harry buried his face in Hermione’s hair and drank of her sweet scent. He felt her arms tighten around him once again and he reciprocated her embrace willingly. They lay in each other’s arms for some time before Harry pulled away to kiss her slowly.

“I think we need to move Ginny and Neville here,” he said quietly. “Before you say no, I think it would be safer for the two of them if they were among friends and family. It’s already started to help me... I can’t use magic, but I’m going to break this memory charm if it’s the last thing I do...”

“I agree with you, Love,” Hermione said with a smile. “The problem is getting them out of St. Mungo’s... Ginny could easily go by Order ring, but Neville could die during transportation...”

“What about Susan? Could she get him out? Say, if she were to take him to a specialist?” Harry asked quizzically.

“You’ve gotten sneakier,” Hermione said with a twinkle in her eyes. “I suppose she could, she’s his mediwizard... She’s also Ginny’s.”

“Well, we have a plan, let’s see if we can get the others to agree with it,” Harry said with a smile as Hermione slid closer to him.

A seductive smile spread across her lips as she gently pushed him to his back then straddled him. “We have some time before anyone is free from lessons,” she purred as his hands cupped her cheeks and brought her down for a long, passionate kiss.