Author Notes: Due to the really stressful time I had the last couple of months, I was forced to leave aside many things, including reading and writing fan fiction. So I'm really sorry for the long time I left this story abandoned *sheepish*
I got the title for this chapter from the instrumental theme "I'm Lost" composed by Alan Silvestri for Lilo & Stitch.
Chapter Two
I'm Lost
He was floating... Drifting. Like a castaway lost in the middle of the ocean. A cold, soft and pleasant sensation washed over him... He could have stayed there forever.
Wake up....
Now he was shivering, the pleasant sensation gone. It was replaced by a loud ringing in his ears and an uncomfortable shaking.
"Wake up!"
Harry opened his eyes when he felt the rough material of a dirty broom scratching his face. He saw a blurry form that might be a human face looking at him.
And then his brain slowly started functioning again.
The noise around him was almost unbearable. . . . Loud chattering and something that sounded a lot like the Hogwarts Express' engine. He couldn't see well, and realized he didn't have his glasses on. He started looking for them in the cold floor and a minute later he found them and put them on.
He blinked. One, two, three times.
He was at one of the muggle Underground's stations. In front of him, was an old man with a broom - so he had been the one who had woken him up - staring at him with an accusing look.
"This isn't the place for you vagabonds to come and take a nap," the old man grumbled, shaking him again with his broom, forcing Harry to stand up. "Go to a shelter or something."
Harry was too confused to say something. He didn't remember going to that station. . . . Heck, he didn't remember anything. . . . What had happened? He had a terrible headache and felt dizzy.
The old man muttered under his breath something about "drunks" and "young people nowadays" while he looked at Harry shaking his head. Harry walked away, still shocked, looking around. Some people were staring at him strangely. He realized he was wearing his Auror robes in a place full of muggles. Great, now he'd have the Ministry people pestering him about the precautions to take with - Why did he care about that now? He had just woken up in a place he hadn't even gone to in the first place... His mind was one foggy mess and he was worrying about his outfit and muggle security.
Nevertheless, he went to a corner, took off his robes and stayed with a pair of jeans and a blue shirt. Good thing he always wore muggle clothes underneath his wizard robes. It was very practical in this kind of situations.
He checked his watch and realized it had stopped at 12:54 pm. He didn't remember what he had been doing at that time. . . . Strangely, he barely remembered what had happened during that day at all.
What was he last thing he could recall? Ouch, what a headache.
"Excuse me," he asked a middle-age man who was about to catch the underground, "what time is it?"
"6:23," the man replied.
Harry muttered a "thank you" and exited the station. The air outside was cold and his simple shirt was not very effective against it. He looked around, trying to place where he was... Maybe he should just go to the Ministry. He needed a good cup of coffee and maybe an aspirin and then he'd think about what had happened. Maybe someone was playing a prank on him? Knowing some of the people he worked with, it wasn't such a strange theory.
Umm... the street where he was wasn't familiar. It looked like a regular London avenue, but he was sure he'd never been there before. He hadn't heard of an Underground Station with that name, either. Well, he thought, shrugging, he never used the Underground. Why should he know about its stations?
The real surprise came when he checked the street's name.
It couldn't be.
He was imagining things.
Because if that sign was right. . . . The Ministry should be a few steps from where he was. . . . Exactly where the Underground station was.
He was definitely imagining things.
He walked back to the entrance of the station and looked around. Nothing was familiar about the place-
Except for the phone booth.
Harry moved hastily towards it. It had been a long time since he had used the visitors' entrance, but he was so glad he was seeing something that he actually recognized, that in the moment he didn't think about how different the phone booth looked from the one he had used time ago.
For one, it was working.
And the booth itself was covered with papers . . . advertisements . . .hot lines, prostitutes, new vaccum cleaners and cheap flats with catchy slogans made it impossible to distinguish the glass window behind. Harry didn't spend more than two seconds looking at them, and turned to the telephone. He pressed 62442, but instead of the voice of the woman from the Ministry, he heard a recording about having the wrong number and suggesting he checked the phone book.
He hung up, and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was tired. Hermione had said something about the effects of stress before. He needed to sleep. Maybe then he'd remember what had happened that day and he would figure out what was going on.
He had just opened the phone booth's door, when one of the small papers with advertisements caught his eye. He took it and peered at it closely.
Take a look at your future with Madam Luna it read. There was a picture of a woman that Harry recognized in the instant.
He hadn't seen Luna Lovegood in almost two years, but the face looking at him in that piece of paper was definitely her. There was a phone number and an address written underneath. Harry frowned. Since when Luna dedicated her life to Divination? Was this part of the prank (if that was what it was) too?
He folded the paper and saved it in his pocket, just in case.
He apparated to his flat, thinking about taking a shower and going straight to sleep.
But something was wrong.
This was most definitely not his flat.
In fact, this wasn't a flat at all.
He was standing in the middle of a parking lot. Harry scratched his head, thinking for a second that maybe he'd made some mistake while apparating. But one look at the address and he knew that wasn't it. It was as if the entire London had changed.
What the hell was going on?
* * *
Bang, bang, bang!
Hermione was ready to use a spell to open the door when it finally swung open. Ron Weasley was standing in front of her, his eyes barely opened, his hair ruffled and a sleepy and annoyed expression on his face.
"What in Heaven's name..." mumbled Ron incoherently, looking at Hermione with only one eye open.
"Is Harry home yet?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"Do you have any idea of what time it is?" Ron growled. He didn't wait for her answer. "5 in the morning. Is that a reasonable time to come banging on my door?"
Hermione shoved him away and entered in the apartment. Ron, who was still half asleep, stared at her fumbling around the three rooms of the flat he shared with Harry.
"He's not here!" Hermione exlaimed after checking Harry's room. The bed was made. . . . Harry hadn't gone home at all.
Ron had leaned his head against the door and had closed his eyes.
"RON!!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking him rudely.
"W-what!" Ron snapped, staring at her with wide eyes.
"I'm telling you that Harry's not here. He didn't come home last night. You could show at least a little concern for your friend!"
Ron yawned and rolled his eyes. "Hermione," he gruffed, "Harry's a big boy. He doesn't need you to take care of him. He probably found a nice girl and is having the time of *yawn* his life right now."
Hermione shot him a dirty look. "You're disgusting, Ron Weasley," she said, strolling to the door. "You don't get what's going on."
"The only thing I get is that I was having a wonderful dream that you interrupted only to push your obsession over Harry a little further."
Hermione stormed out of his flat, slamming the door behind him. Ron didn't miss the "prat" adjective she shot at him before doing it, though. Shaking his head, he went back to bed.
* * *
Harry sat on a bench in a small park outside Hermione's home. That park was definitely not there before. But why would he be surprised about finding a park that had never been there, when the woman who had opened the door of his best friend's flat wasn't Hermione? Why would he even waste time pondering about this new discovery when said woman had claimed that she'd lived there for five years and had never met anyone by the name of Granger?
For the first time, the idea of dark magic involved crossed his mind.
Someone had created an illusion. It had to be that. Some very powerful magic was doing this. The question now was who? Why? What for?
Harry ignored his headache, ignored the cold, and tried to focus. The last thing he remembered doing. . . . What was it? At what time had he woken up that morning? What had he done? Had he gone to the Ministry? Had something happened there?
Thinking about that only made his headache stronger, so he tried to go a little back. Yesterday. Yes, what had he done yesterday? He closed his eyes and concentrated. He remembered having lunch with Ron. Ron had invited him to the Chudley Cannon's match on Sunday. He also remembered Hermione telling him she needed to talk about something important... They had agreed to have dinner together that night. Had he met her? He couldn't remember when that asfixiating fog clouded his mind again.
If this was a dark wizard's doing, he had to be careful. What could he do? He had no idea what was going on...
Suddenly, he remembered the paper he'd put in his pocket earlier. He took it out and stared at it.
Could maybe Luna help him?
* * *
Hermione thought her day couldn't get any worse when she entered her office. There were her workmates, Terry and Pamela Rogers with a grim face looking at...
"Percy? What are you doing here?"
Percy Weasley turned around to acknowledge her. He had been looking at the stuff that was in the shelves and writing down in a piece of parchment. Percy worked in another department, Hermione couldn't understand why was he in the Department of Mysteries and acting as if he owned the place.
"Good morning Hermione. Do you always arrive at this time to work?" he asked, looking at his watch. "A little late, don't you think?"
Hermione glared at him. "What do you want?" she asked, leaving her purse on her desk and taking off her cloak.
"Where is Harry?" Percy asked in return.
"You have no permission to be down here," Hermione protested, looking at Terry and Pamela, who shrugged helplessly.
"As a matter of fact, I do," Percy said, standing straight. "I've been appointed by the Minister to personally investigate the stealing of information and violation of security inside the building."
Hermione was barely able to held back a groan. The last thing she needed was Percy Weasley wandering down there. "Congratulations," she said, trying to sound polite.
"Thank you. Where's Harry Potter?" Percy asked again, a smug expression on his face.
"How should I know? He doesn't work here. You're in the wrong Department. You see, he's an Auror."
Percy wasn't impressed by Hermione's sarcasm. "He didn't come to work today. He hasn't been seen since yesterday, around noon. He didn't attend the meeting at five. . . . It's as if the earth swallowed him."
Hermione did her best to remain calm. "I've no idea where he is."
"You are his best friend," Percy pressed. "If his boss and his partner don't know what happened to him, I can only think of you and Ron."
"That doesn't mean we have to know everything he does," Hermione said, turning her back at him.
Percy looked at her for a while without saying anything. He wrote a few things in his parchment and then cleared his throat.
"Harry entered in the Department of Mysteries yesterday around 12:30."
Hermione swirled around. "How do you know that?"
"I have a witness."
"Who?"
Percy looked at his notes. "Sophie Briskin," he read.
Hermione snorted. "Then it's probably a lie," she said. Sophie was a trainee in the Department of Mysteries and she had dated Harry for a short while some time ago. The relationship had ended in bad terms and Sophie seemed to be determined to pester Harry as much as possible.
"It's not," a girl with short blonde hair said, appearing at the doorway. "I saw him with these two eyes."
"Really," Hermione said, looking at her with annoyance. "You're just a trainee, Sophie. You don't have access to many areas inside the Deparment of Mysteries. Mind telling us where you saw him?"
Sophie sneered. "I was heading here from Lupin's office and I saw him standing in the entrance. He was about to open the door to come inside the Department."
"Did you actually see him going in?" Hermione asked.
"No," Sophie said, after a short pause. "I turned around, I didn't want him to see me. You know that we aren't the best of friends."
"Then you don't know for sure that he came inside," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "And if you know that the Department of Mysteries is off limits to anyone who doesn't work here, why didn't you say something?"
"I'll ask the questions here, Hermione," Percy said, cutting off Sophie before she had the chance to reply.
Hermione's temper was escaping her control. The fact was she had the horrible feeling that Harry had indeed entered in the Department of Mysteries, probably looking for her to confront her about the veil issue. Maybe he'd gotten lost inside? It wasn't hard to lose your way with so many doors. . . . But they had already seacrhed everywhere while looking for the Intruder, and Harry wasn't inside. She felt like slapping the arrogant arsehole that was now standing in front of her, but decided it wouldn't be very helpful in this situation and counted mentally up to ten.
"Percy," Terry chirped in, noticing Hermione's face, "how could Harry've come inside? The door's locked, and I'm sure he doesn't have a key nor the necessary ID..."
"Harry has been inside the Department of Mysteries before," Percy answered, looking at Terry. "You think I don't know how that door works? If you've been able to open it once, it will open for you again, no matter how many charms it has."
"Percy, what exactly are you implying here? That Harry's the Intruder?" Pamela asked.
"You said it, not me," Percy said, writing something down. "So, Hermione, you won't tell me where Harry is?"
"I already told you, I have no idea. I haven't seen him or spoken to him since Tuesday's night," Hermione answered. "Do you want me to write it down for you?"
Percy glared at her. "I find that hard to believe," he said.
"What I find hard to believe is that Minister Bones appointed such an overbearing pighead for this investigation," Hermione snapped, leaving the office furiously.
* * *
Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the wooden door. He waited a couple of seconds until the door opened slightly. He caught the glimpse of an eye looking at him warily.
"Um, hello," Harry said. "Is this Madam Luna's . . . er, house?"
"We're closed," a female voice said, and shut the door.
Harry knocked again.
"I really need to talk to Luna, please," he said, when the same eye peered at him.
"Then come back tomorrow."
This time, though, Harry stopped the door before it was closed. "I won't take long, I promise. It's very important."
After a brief hesitation, the door finally opened enough to let him go inside. Harry let out a sigh of relief and stepped in the small house. He was now standing in a living room with colorful couches that looked a little ragged. In the center, there was a round table with a crystal ball in the middle. He was instantly reminded of Professor Trelawney's classroom and grimaced involuntarily. Thank God, at least it didn't smell like it.
"Well, what do you want?"
Harry turned around and saw that the woman who had opened the door was, without any doubt, Luna Lovegood. She looked different from the last time he'd seen her. Her hair was longer, and she looked thinner and with an unhealthy air around her. She was staring at him blankly.
"Luna? It's me, Harry," he said.
She stared at him. "Harry?" Harry nodded, feeling more at ease, until she spoke again. "I don't know any Harry."
Harry couldn't believe she'd forgotten about him. "You don't remember me?"
"I think you're mistaking me for someone else, I've never seen you before..."
"No, that can't be. You are Luna Lovegood, aren't you?"
Luna's face turned paler than a paper sheet. "How do you know my last name?"
Harry laughed nervously. She was clearly teasing him. "I went with you to Hogwarts..."
Luna's eyes widened. "Hogwarts?" She peered at him warily. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a swift move she grabbed something from a small table near the door. Harry though at first it was her wand, but he was surprised to see what it looked like a kitchen knife.
"Luna? What are you doing?" Harry asked, but she held the knife in front of her, protectively.
"Don't come any closer! You're one of them, aren't you?"
"One of . . . who?" Harry asked, confused.
"You can't fool me!" Luna yelled and backed away violently, tripping with the table. A vase with a red rose fell to the floor and shattered.
Harry took out his wand to clean the mess and that was when Luna totally lost it. With a strained yell she launched at him, and if Harry hadn't move from her way, she would've certainly stabbed him. She fell forward to the floor with a thud.
"What the hell are you doing!?" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at the knife and making it vanish. Gosh, she's really lost her mind, he thought, walking to her and helping her to stand up.
"Stay away from me," Luna said weakly. "I haven't done anything. I swear."
"What are you saying? I don't understand..." Harry said, taken aback. Maybe she'd gone nuts for real this time. He remembered Ron had made a bet that Loony would end up in a mental ward in St. Mungo's before she turned 25. . . . Or had her memory been erased? "Why are you so scared? I'm not going to hurt you."
"I haven't done anything," she repeated. "I haven't used magic. Death Eaters have no business in my house!"
"Death Eater?" Harry asked, more confused than before. "Death Eaters have been gone for a long time, Luna. They disappeared along with Voldemort, remember?"
Obviously she didn't, because she looked even more scared. Harry decided to use another strategy.
"Maybe you were right and I'm wrong," he said. "I must've mistaken you with someone I knew..."
Luna had now her back to the wall. "No. You mentioned my last name. No one knows that. No one knows I'm a Lovegood."
Harry sighed helplessly. What was he going to do? He was trapped in the middle of this strange illusion. . . . Luna was the only connection to the world he knew.
"Look," Harry said, taking two steps back with his hands up. "I'm going to leave my wand here," he said, placing it on the table, and then moving away. "I just want you to listen to me. That's all I ask."
She stared at him in silence. Finally, she nodded uncertainly. "Okay."
He wasn't sure where to start. Was there a way to explain what was happening to him that sounded slightly coherent?
"I woke up a few hours ago in a place I don't remember going to. Suddenly the whole world around me has changed. . . . My house is gone, my friends are gone, all the people and places I know have disappeared. I don't even recognize London anymore. I have no bloody idea what's going on, and you're the only person I could find thanks to this," he said, showing her the advertisement. Luna didn't look at the piece of paper, her eyes were fixed on him with an unreadable expression. "And now it turns that you have no idea who I am! Tell me, is this a joke? Because if it is, it's gone too far, I'm actually getting scared."
A long silence filled the room, until Luna spoke again.
"You're from there," she said, as if she had just understood something very important.
"From where?"
"You're from the other side."
Harry stared at her with raised eyebrows. "What side? What are you talking about?"
"I'm going to make some tea," she said. Her tone had changed completely. "Sit down, please."
It's not the time to sit down and have tea, Harry thought, but did as he was told. He stared at her dumbfounded when she stepped in the kitchen. He sat down in front of the table with the glass ball, rubbing his temples. He'd never been in a situation so ridiculously frightening before.
Luna came back a few minutes later with two cups of tea. She gave one to Harry and sat down in front of him. He realized she didn't seem scared anymore... She was just staring at him with curiosity.
"You said your name was...?"
"Harry," he said, in a wary tone.
"Harry," she repeated, nodding. "Well Harry, I can't be one hundred per cent sure, but it seems to me that you somehow managed to cross into this dimension."
Harry stared at her as if she had spoken in a different language. "Say again?"
"I think that the reason you're so lost is because you're not from this world. . . . You must be from the parallel dimension."
Harry waited two minutes for her to explain what she meant, but Luna didn't add anything else, and sipped her tea, looking at him with genuine interest.
"When you say . . . parallel dimension," Harry did his best to keep a neutral tone, "you are referring to what, exactly?"
Luna looked at him in a way that reminded Harry of the times they spent together at Hogwarts, just before she started telling him about one of those rare and non-existant creatures she loved.
"I guess it's not strange that you don't know what I'm talking about. After all, it's not common knowledge..." she moved a little closer to him. "The fact is, Harry, that there's more than one world." He arched an eyebrow. "Two worlds that have a common basis, but with not the same developements... Like playing two different games of wizard chess with the same set. Things here haven't happened as in where you come from. That's why you haven't been able to recognize some places and find people-"
"So... You're not the Luna Lovegood I've met," Harry interrupted.
"That's correct," Luna said, nodding.
"And there's another Harry Potter here, living a completely different life from the one I have."
"Probably."
"Right," Harry said, interrupting her abruptly. He stood up and left the cup of tea, still full, on the table. "I think I should leave."
"Wait," Luna grabbing his arm to make him stop and then letting him go quickly as if she had touched something very hot. "Why?"
Harry turned to look at her sternly. "Of all the incoherences I've heard from you since I met you, this is by far the most ridiculous one." Luna tried to protest, but Harry had already opened the door. "I already know that all this, including you, is part of some illusion, and as soon as I find out who's behind it, he'll wish he'd never been born."
He had already reached the street when Luna called his name. He turned around again and she tossed his wand at him.
"If you decide to open your mind and listen to what I have to say, come and visit me again," she said, before closing the door.
* * *
Hermione was positively fuming when she reached the elevator. She knew she shouldn't have snapped like that, but hearing Percy's arrogant assumptions about Harry being involved in the stealings had been more than what she was willing to take. Especially when Harry had vanished without any notice.
Before she could push the button to call the elevator, the doors opened and Ron came out.
"Oh Hermione," he said, looking relieved when he saw her. "Lucky to find you here... I thought I'd have to go inside there to look for you," he said pointing at the closed door of the Department of Mysteries with a grimace. It was no secret that Ron didn't like that place and avoided the whole floor as much as he could.
"You couldn't have entered anyway," Hermione said, passing by him and stepping inside the elevator. Ron didn't think about it twice and followed her.
"Where're you going?" he asked.
"To the Department of Law Enforcement," she said, pushing the button of the second floor and leaning against the wall.
"You're wasting your time, I was just there and Harry hasn't shown up. Tonks told me his stuff is still on his desk and today's owl mail hasn't been touched..."
"I figured that much," Hermione said. "I'm going to talk to your dad."
Arthur Weasley had become the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement when Amelia Bones had become the new Minister of Magic. It had been around the same time that Remus had been placed in charge of the Department of Mysteries.
"Then I'm going too. Maybe then one of you will be able to explain to me what the hell is going on. First, you wake me up when the sun hasn't even come out yet looking for Harry; then my dear brother Percy shows up while I'm trying to have breakfast to ask a bunch of silly questions about -what else? - Harry's whereabouts."
"He was at your place?" Hermione asked, standing straight. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth, that I haven't seen Harry since yesterday. He didn't believe me when I told him I didn't have a bloody clue of where he was last night or where he might be now." Ron shook his head. "Geez, is that strange that an adult, single guy like Harry spends the night out of his home without telling everyone or asking permission?"
Hermione looked at Ron with narrowed eyes and then sighed. "Percy thinks Harry might be the one who has been stealing information from the Ministry."
Ron laughed. "Give it to my brother to come up with something so stupid..." he trailed off when he noticed Hermione's expression. "You don't believe that, do you?"
"Of course not, Ron!" Hermione said, looking at him in disbilief. "But it's not just a crazy theory of Percy. Harry didn't show up at the meeting aurors and unspeakables had yesterday, and while we were there, someone broke into the Department of Mysteries. They already suspect that the culprit works at the Ministry, and by the look of Kingsley's face, I'm sure he thinks it might even be an auror or an unspeakable. . . . Now we all have an alibi, except for Harry."
"But that's absurd," Ron said. "I'm sure that Harry had a good reason to skip that meeting."
"Yes, the problem is he's not here to explain it."
The elevator made a halt and Ron and Hermione stepped in the Department of Law Enforcement.
"I don't understand why you're so worried," Ron said. "I mean, this is obviously a misunderstanding, and as soon as Harry shows up..."
Hermione grabbed Ron's arm before he could say anything else and led him to a secluded corner where she was sure no one would hear them.
"Harry was seen in the Department of Mysteries yesterday," she explained quickly. "That's why Percy is suspicious. He's seen at the crime scene just before the Intruder came in and then disappears without a trace..."
"But he's Harry Potter!" Ron protested. "No one would believe that he'd do something like that. Besides, he was probably down there looking for you. . . . Now that I remember, last time I saw him he was acting kinda weird. . . . He said he needed to talk to you and went to the elevator."
Hermione already knew that Harry would want to talk to her about what Remus had told him. She had been in her office all day until the meeting... Why hadn't he gone there at all? If it was true he'd gone inside the Department of Mysteries...
"What could've happened?" Ron said, interrupting her thoughts. "It's not like Harry to leave without telling anyone. Not even when he'd been in the middle of some big case he's left us uninformed."
"I've no idea," Hermione said, although she had the dreadful feeling that it had to do with the veil. "Come on, let's see if we can convince Mr. Weasley to intercede and get Percy off our backs."
* * *
Harry had hoped the cool air would clear his ideas, but obviously it hadn't helped at all.
Why is it so hard to believe? A little voice inside him asked. It's not as if you're not used to strange things going on around you.Starting by the fact you are a wizard.
Yes, but two worlds? That was too much! He sighed and leaned against a tree. He hadn't been able to get rid of that annoying headache and he felt lost and powerless, like he hadn't feel in ages. He didn't know where he was or what was going on... Hell, he didn't even know if all this was real or he had finally lost his mind.
He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He'd been walking randomly... The surroundings were familiar. He started walking slowly. If he wasn't mistaken, he was very close to the Granger's house, the one where Hermione had spent her childhood and where her parents still lived.
He had tried many other places already, and in none of them he'd found what there was supposed to be in there. Why should it be any different with the Granger's house? Still, he was just a few blocks away, it was worth a try, even if it was to get a clue of what was happening. It wasn't as if he had anywhere to go, after all.
He walked faster now towards the address, expecting to find a Beauty Salon or maybe a Child's Day Care... His heart skipped a beat when he found himself standing in front of a white house he'd seen many times before. He stared at it, almost afraid that it was some sort of mirage, or some cruel joke of whoever was behind this.
He moved to the front door and knocked twice. After a while, it was obvious that no one was home. He rubbed his neck, wondering if he should wait for someone to arrive. He felt ridiculous putting so much hope into this...
"Are you looking for someone?"
Harry whirled around and saw an old lady looking at him from the street. She was carrying a plastic bag with groceries.
"Do you live here?" he asked, holding his breath.
The lady moved closer, peering at him with a penetrating gaze. "Who are you?"
"I'm . . . looking for the Grangers," he said finally. In the woman's face he saw no sign of recognition. She was still staring at him with a blank face and Harry felt all his hopes leaving him. "They used to live here," he added. "Maybe they moved."
"No, they didn't," the woman said, and Harry felt a violent throb in his stomach. "The Grangers died, I'm afraid."
"Died?" Harry repeated in a weak voice. His knees felt weak and he leaned against the door, breathing with difficulty. "H-how?"
"Oh, it was a long time ago," the woman said, looking at him with pity. "A strange illness, I believe. It was a very sad event. They were such a lovely family." She made a pause. "I'm sorry. Were you a friend?"
Harry had a hard time finding his voice. "Yeah. A friend of their daughter, Hermione..."
The lady's eyes widened slightly. "Did you say Hermione?" When Harry nodded, she smiled. "She still lives here," the woman said, and Harry's head snapped to look at her with anxious intensity.
"Hermione lives here?" he asked with urgency.
The woman nodded. "I reckon she's still at work," she said, looking at her watch. "I could give you the address, if you want."
* * *
Hermione's eyes were fixed on the lazy swinging of the veil, her fingers absent mindly rubbing the cover of an old and wasted leather book. The Death Chamber was cold, and she didn't have her cloak on, but at the minute, she didn't mind.
Had she made a mistake in not telling Harry anything about what she was investigating?
But she had promised. She couldn't betray her trust...
Where could Harry be? Or more important, why had he disappeared without telling anyone? Had he even been at this Chamber, wondering what was it that she was hiding from him about the veil?
"Hermione..."
Hermione turned to see Terry looking at her from the door.
"Terry, you're not supposed to be here..." she said, grabbing the leather book tighter and finally moving away from the veil. Not everyone in the Department of Mysteries had access to the Death Chamber.
"I know," Terry said. "I was looking for you. Remus wants to see you, he said I could find you here." He looked at the veil for a brief second and shuddered. "It's scary, don't you think?"
Hermione nodded. Even after all the time she had spent there, she still couldn't get rid of the feeling of uneasiness she'd felt the first time she'd seen it, when they had been there during her fifth year of Hogwarts.
"What do you think is behind that thing?" Terry asked with quivering voice once Hermione had come out and closed the door behind her.
Hermione only shook her head, not able to give him a straight answer. Terry, as almost everyone who worked in the Department of Mysteries, seemed terrified of the strange veil, which was regarded as a death omen.
One day, she would find out herself the answer to Terry's question, and would know for sure what was behind the veil.
* * *
Harry had been standing outside the building for about an hour. He was freezing and it was pretty dark already. Was Hermione really in there? It was a tall, modern building, not very London-like. There were two guards outside who checked people's IDs before letting them in or out. In the entrance, written in round silver letters, Harry could read LMRI, but he had no idea what that could mean.
With a flick of his wand, Harry cast a warming spell on him. He was secluded in a dark spot that let him have a good view of the people who came out of the building, but prevented the guards to notice him. Harry knew that with his Auror training he was perfectly capable of doing a better spy job and get inside the building, but his situation was bad enough as it was, and he didn't want to risk himself further until he figured out what was going on.
Eyeing the building again, he pondered about everything that had happened since he had woken up in that underground station. It bothered him not being able to remember what had happened before that. His memory was perfect up to the point when he had arranged to meet Hermione for dinner. Every time he tried to recall the events after that, his head started throbbing painfully. What was he doing now in that place, anyway? He knew perfectly well that Hermione didn't work in LMRI, whatever that was. It had to be someone else. But what were the odds that there was another woman named Hermione Granger living in that house? This had to be part of that illusion he had been sucked into or... He refused to consider what Luna had said as a possibility.
He was ready to wait all night if necessary, but he had to see this Hermione. It was the only way he...
His thoughts were forgotten when he saw her coming out. Harry moved closer to get a better look at her. She had just came out of the door, and after showing something to one of the guards, she waved goodbye and started walking in the direction where he was.
There was no doubt it was Hermione. As he saw her coming closer, he recognized her face, her eyes, her expression. However, there were a few things that weren't the same. Her hair was shorter, and she had it tied in a tight bread. The way she moved was also different. She walked faster, and her head hung low, avoiding to look in the eye at the people that walked past her in the street.
Harry stood in the middle of the sidewalk, motionless. He was staring at her intently, praying that since she was coming closer she'd look up at him, hoping por some sort of signal of recognition in her eyes. When Hermione reached him, she shifted her eyes until her brown eyes met with his. It was such a brief moment, that went almost unnoticed. She averted his gaze and continued her way, walking past him and leaving him standing there.
Just like two strangers crossing ways.
That woman wasn't his best friend, he realized. He felt a sharp pain in the pit of the stomach. He had already knew in the bottom of his heart that this would happen, why was he so disappointed? He turned around to look at her once again, just when she was turning in the corner, disappearing from his sight.
It was in that moment when he really considered what Luna had told him as a reality. It was crazy, he knew it, but. . . . It was just to real to be an illusion.
He started walking slowly. He didn't know where he was heading, his feet weren't connected to his brain anymore. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare and laugh about it until tears came out.
But Harry had never been too good to avoid reality, so he couldn't help to start thinking about what he was going to do. He hadn't a bloody clue! Should he go back to Luna's house and listen to everything she had to say? Hearing her wouldn't hurt and it was better than just wander around the city.
He didn't know for how long he'd been walking, but it had to be past 9 pm. He halted when he heard a noise behind him. When he turned around, he didn't see anything. He started walking again, this time alert to his surroundings. He sensed that someone was watching him, and gripped his wand inside his pocket, slowing his pace. He turned around in the corner, getting in an alleway. He was sure he was being followed.
When he heard the noise again, he whirled around and drew his wand, ready for action, but he only saw the dirty, dark alley ahead. He didn't have enough time to wonder, though, when he felt a sharp pain in the back of the head and everything went black.
* * *
"What are we going to do with him?"
Harry could hear the voices vaguely, with a weird echo resoundng in his ears.
"I don't know."
"I think we should kill him."
His head felt about to explode and his whole body ached as if he had been ran over by a train.
"But we're not sure if he's an enemy."
Harry tried to focus and the voices started to get clearer.
"Oh please, he has a wand. He's one of them."
"And he was spying on the girl."
He definitely knew that voice. Harry made an effort to open his eyes.
"Okay, you kill him."
He finally managed to lift his eyelids. All he could see were blurry shadows. At first, he thought it was because he had been hit on the head, but then realized he didn't have his glasses on.
"Shouldn't we inform him first? What if he wants to interrogate him?"
Harry squinted his eyes. He could see three outlines above him. They didn't seem to notice he was awake.
"You want to take him there? Are you bloody mad? What if he's got reinforcements near?"
There was no mistake. Recognizing that voice anywhere, Harry lifted his head slowly and looked at the person who was in front of him.
"Ron?"
* * *