Scar of Time by Angel-Wing

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/09/2004
Last Updated: 11/02/2005
Status: Paused

One event can change the way the world turns. Harry will learn this in a very unusual way when
he founds himself in a situation he'd never imagined. In the way, he'll discover some
things about himself and the people around him. Expect mystery and surprises in this Harry/Hermione
story.




1. Secrets
----------



**Author Note:** Hi everyone! I'm back with another story. The idea for this story has
been on my head for a while and I'm finally writing it down. The first inspiration came to me
thanks to Squaresoft's RPG for Playstation, “Chrono Cross”. This story, however, has nothing to
do with the plotline of the game, so wether if you've played it or not, it doesn't really
matter. And since we are blaming, I should also thank to my Interactive Narrative class, because
during it I got important ideas for this plot that I'll tell you about when the time comes.

I really hope you'll like it. The first chapter is just an introduction, and the main plot
will only start to reveal from the second chapter.

The title of this fic was inspired by the melody composed by Yasunori Mitsuda, “Scar of Time”,
from the Chrono Cross Soundtrack.

My thanks to **Another** for beta reading this and helping me improve my english;
**Nousia** for being so nice, helpful and patient and **Psy_Girl** for her feedback,
encouragement and being a great partner.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Secrets**

Tonks stepped in the Auror Headquarters whistling happily. She waved to some of her colleagues
while she walked (and tripped) towards one specific cubicle. So what if she was nosy? She was dying
to know what had happened. And she would make sure he told her.

When she got there, she found the wizard in question leaning on his desk, his eyes closed and
his head on his crossed arms. He was breathing steadily and for a second she considered letting him
be. For a second.

“Now this is nice,” she said, after clearing her throat loudly. “Our finest Auror sleeping on
the job.”

Harry snapped his head up and looked at her dazedly. He blinked a couple of times and finally
focused on the smiling face of Tonks looking at him with a twinkle in her eyes. She had spiky cyan
hair today and her nose was a little rounder than usual. Harry, however, was too used to her
changing of appearance to be surprised anymore.

“Rough night, huh?” Tonks asked, sitting across from him without waiting for an invitation. She
kept smiling at him in an odd way and Harry found himself wondering if she was up to something more
than a small talk.

“Kinda,” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes. He stretched and sat up straight, trying to awaken
himself.

“I see,” she said, her chin on her hand. “You went out on a date, didn't you?” she raised an
eyebrow suggestively.

Harry chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I just had dinner with Hermione.”

Tonks smile grew wider. “Indeed. And you didn't sleep at all last night?”

Harry gave her a weird look. “I know you're trying to say something, but I swear I'm not
catching up.”

The smile on the woman's face disappeared in an instant. “Oh,” she said, clearly
disappointed. “You mean you just *had dinner* with Hermione?”

“That's what I said, Tonks,” Harry said, yawning. “Aren't you a little slow today?”

Tonks muttered something under her breath about the the pot and the kettle that Harry didn't
catch. He shrugged. It was futile to try to understand Tonks most of the time, and in the years he
had known her, Harry had often wondered if she was related to Luna Lovegood in any way.

He stifled another yawn. He really needed a vacation. He hadn't slept at all last night, and
not exactly because of having company. No, that wasn't it. And oddly, Tonks had been close to a
point mentioning his dinner with Hermione, because that was what had kept him up all night.

It wasn't Hermione, per se. It was more like what he *knew* she was hiding from
him.

With time, Harry had gotten used to Hermione's secrets. Well, they weren't really
*her* secrets, but they were from her job. Hermione was an Unspeakable. Harry and Hermione had
been offered to work in the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic while they were both
in their Auror Training Program. Harry had refused almost immediately. For one, he was tired of
mysteries and being cooped up in the Department of Mysteries all day investigating that creepy
stuff wasn't exactly what he wanted to do with his life. Besides, he hated that place with all
his heart after all that had happened there.

Hermione, however, had accepted. After a lot of thinking and discussion with Harry and Ron, she
had decided to go with it. Harry had never fully understood why Hermione had agreed. But Ron had
said, *You know how she loves researching. I bet she will spend all day down there between
million**s* *of books and weird* *potions.* Harry wasn't sure that was the
reason, though, but he had been supportive nevertheless.

Hermione becoming an Unspeakable meant that all her work would be a secret, even for them, her
best friends. Harry wasn't too fond of the idea of someone close to him doing things he
wouldn't know about, but if this was what she wanted, he would have to accept it. So, there was
an unspoken pact between them. Neither Harry nor Ron ever asked anything to Hermione about her job,
except for “how is it going?” and she would always answer with a curt “fine, thank you.”

The secrecy hadn't really been an obstacle in their friendship. It was quite impossible, in
Harry's opinion, to go through all the things they had and then drift apart. If anything, Ron
and Hermione were the most important people in his life, and they would always be. He had been
scared at first of leaving school and not seeing them every day, but considering he shared a flat
with Ron and Hermione dropped by almost every day to make sure they kept the place clean and they
ate *decent* food, as she called it, that closeness hadn't been lost.

But the previous night, something had been different and he had sensed it. Hermione had sent him
a message in the morning asking him to meet her for dinner because she had to tell him something.
Harry had been thinking about what could it be all day and hadn't even waited to sit down at
that restaurant before asking her what was wrong. She had smiled slightly and asked why he thought
it was something bad. But Harry's experience in life had taught him to always be prepared for
the worse.

They had made some small talk at first. Hermione was avoiding the main subject and Harry had
done his best to hold back his impatience. She was really nervous, and kept avoiding his eyes. By
the time they were finishing the main course, Harry was really worried. He was pretty sure it had
something to do with her job. Had she discovered something? Was she in danger? She obviously needed
his help.

That was what had been going through Harry's head while Hermione picked on her food talking
about some new book she had read. Finally, he had pressed her to tell him what was going on. And
the look she had given him.... There was fear in those eyes. Inexplicable fear. And before he knew
what was going on, she had stormed out of the restaurant, leaving him confused and alone.

He had tried to contact her later, but he hadn't been able to. He had even pondered going to
her house, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. So, he had spent all night building up theories
about his friend's strange behavior. He was expecting to catch her sometime during the day in
the Ministry, although it wouldn't be easy, since Hermione always stayed inside the Department
of Mysteries and Harry, like most of the staff of the Ministry, wasn't allowed to go down
there.

“...And that's when I realized I was pregnant...”

“What?” Harry went back to reality in less than a second when he heard those words coming from
Tonks's mouth. “You're pregnant?” he stuttered, looking at his fellow Auror with widened
eyes.

“No,” Tonks said, laughing. “I was just trying to catch your attention. You spaced out for a
couple of minutes. Thinking about something...or *someone* special?” she asked, leaning
forward on his desk.

“Yes, I was, actually,” Harry said. He had been thinking about Hermione and she *was*
special, although not in the tone he knew Tonks was asking. “Have you seen Hermione?”

Tonks grinned. “No.... You know she rarely comes up here. Did something happen with her
yesterday?” she asked, looking at her nails and acting casually.

“I don't know,” Harry replied. “I have the feeling she's hiding something from me.”

Tonks smirked, but didn't say anything.

“Hey, Tonks, do you know what Hermione has been working on lately?”

“You know I don't, Harry. Unspeakables' stuff is kept only inside the Department of
Mysteries. Why do you ask?”

Harry was thoughtful. “I know she was trying to tell me something yesterday. I'm sure it has
to do with her job. Something she discovered, maybe. She looked really worried.”

Tonks looked at him with a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “You've got to be kidding me,
Harry. You really think Hermione wanted to talk to you about her *work*?”

“What else could be making her so anxious? She was really nervous and in the end ran away
without saying a thing!” Harry explained, worriedly. Thinking about it, Hermione had been acting
weird for a while. She always seemed to be wanting to tell him something and finally decided
against it. He felt really stupid not to have realized it before. “I know that something *is*
going on.”

Tonks looked like she was torn between bursting out laughing or kicking Harry. She let out a
long hiss that Harry didn't hear. He was too deep in his own cavilations.

“I'm going to talk to Remus,” Harry said, standing up from his desk.

“What for?”

“He has to know something. He is Hermione's boss.”

Before she could say anything else to him, Harry had fled towards the elevator.

* * *

“I made a complete *fool* out of myself,” Hermione said, sighing with her head in her
hands.

Ginny smiled at her sympathetically. “I'm sure it wasn't *that* bad.”

“I. Stormed. Out. Of. The. Restaurant,” Hermione growled. “Could it be worse than that?” Ginny
didn't say anything. “God, what must he be thinking now.... He probably already figured it out!
How am I going to face him?”

“Calm down, Hermione,” Ginny said, calling the waiter to ask for another cup of coffee.
“It's not as if it's the end of the world.”

Hermione covered her face with her hands and let out a whimper. She was really embarrassed. She
had completely lost her courage when she was about to spill to Harry that she had feelings for him.
She could have at least made up something. But no, she *had* to run away like some drama queen
and just make everything worse.

“Look,” Ginny said in a practical tone. “Now that you've reached this point, all you have to
do is tell him how you feel. It will be better than him thinking you are nuts.”

Hermione shook her head. “No way. I'm not going to tell him, Ginny.”

“But why?” the younger woman asked, frowning. “You were determined to do it.”

“You and Tonks caught me flying low when I accepted to do it,” Hermione argued. “Now I'm
back to my senses and understand that it was a stupid idea in the first place. It would only ruin
our friendship.”

“If you don't tell him, you might be ruining your chance to have something mo—”

“No, Gin,” Hermione cut her off. “Besides, Harry is like an open book when it comes to liking
someone. If he returned my feelings, I'd be able to notice. But be honest, have you ever seen
him acting weird with me?”

Ginny thought for a moment. “No,” she said slowly. “But that doesn't mean...don't give
me that `I'm-always-right' look, Hermione. Harry is a man, and worse, he is
*Ron's* friend. That makes him very thick *and* blind. I'm sure that deep down,
he's head over heels for you... He's just in denial.”

“I've said my last word about this,” Hermione said sternly. “Harry and I will remain as good
friends and nothing more.”

Ginny sighed. She knew how stubborn her friend could be. “But how will you explain your weird
behavior? He must be thinking you're losing your mind, which I don't think is that far from
the truth.”

Hermione glared at her. “I'll figure something out. Oh, blast.”

“What?” Ginny asked, looking at Hermione pulling out her wand from her pocket. It was glowing of
a faint blue color.

“Call from work,” Hermione said grabbing her purse and leaving a few Galleons on the table.

“I thought you had the morning off.”

“I did, but you know how this is. Bye Ginny, I'll call you later.”

Ginny watched her friend leave. Actually, she had no idea how *this* was, but had grown
used to Hermione's mysterious schedules when work was concerned. She took another sip of her
coffee and pondered. She and Tonks would need another strategy to get through Hermione's thick
head.

* * *

“Come in,” Lupin said when he heard the knock on his door. He was scanning through some papers
when Harry came in and closed the door behind him. “Hi Harry,” he said, smiling at him. “It's
not an everyday thing that you come down here to visit an old friend.”

“You say it as if we never see each other, when it's quite the opposite,” Harry said,
sitting in front of Lupin.

“Then this isn't a courtesy visit. What is it, Harry?”

Harry peered at his friend for a moment. Remus had become the Head of the Department of
Mysteries and the visible face of the people who worked there after Voldemort's death. He had
earned a lot of respect thanks to his work during the Second War and the new Minister had decided
to trust him with that job. It had been Remus who had offered Harry and Hermione to join the
Unspeakables' Team two years ago.

“I need your help,” Harry said finally, watching his reactions carefully.

“Sure, anything you need,” Remus said, leaving his papers aside and focusing on Harry.

“I *must* know what Hermione's working on.”

Remus stared at Harry in silence for two long minutes. “You know I can't tell you that.”
Harry frowned and Remus sighed. “Harry, you're perfectly aware of this department's
policies. You know too much about what we do here already. I can't comment about what my agents
do...”

“I'm not asking about your agents! This is about Hermione,” Harry said. “I don't care
about secrecy.... I don't give a damn about what you do down here and you know it. But I have
to know, because she's been acting really weird all week.... She's involved in something
strange, and I think she needs my help.”

Lupin raised his eyebrows and gave him a look of surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I know her. Something's going on. And she can't tell me what it is. You must know, you
are her boss.” Remus looked away and shook his head. “Please, Remus.”

“Harry, I don't know where this comes from, but I assure that Hermione isn't...,” he
trailed off and fell silent. Harry noticed he had just remembered something.

“What? Tell me!”

Remus avoided Harry's eyes. “I can't. You're not supposed to know....”

Harry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Hermione's my best friend. If something
is happening to her, I need to know. She's always on the verge of telling me what it is, and
then panics.” He leaned forward on the desk. “You know I wouldn't be asking you this if it
wasn't serious.”

Lupin hesitated and Harry saw his ray of hope. He had to break Remus's resolution and he
knew exactly which button to push.

“If it was the other way around—if it was—Tonks,” he pronounced the name casually and Remus
turned his head to look at him in the instant, “the one who was in trouble, wouldn't you want
to know what has her like that? And if I was the only one who could tell you, being her partner and
all...I would.”

“What does Tonks have to do with this? She's just a friend,” Remus stuttered, blushing.

“So is Hermione,” Harry said with a small smile. “Tonks was just an example.”

“Aurors' work is not classified.”

“Remus, you know what my point is.” The older man looked at him with a helpless look. “Please. I
need to know.”

A long pause followed. Harry waited with baited breath while Remus stood up and paced in his
office, rubbing his chin.

“Are you sure that there's a problem with Hermione?” Harry nodded. “It can only be....” He
sat down again and looked at Harry. “You must swear you won't tell anyone about this. Much less
Hermione. She'll kill me if she knows I've told you.”

“I swear,” Harry said, concerned. So he had been right after all. There *was* something
going on.

Remus let out a sigh. “Hermione has been investigating something since she joined the team.
Actually, that was her condition to join. That we'd let her invest some of her time in this
investigation. We agreed. After all, a long time ago, another Unspeakable had been interested in it
and left the research unfinished.” He made a pause and grabbed a quill from his desk. “A week
ago...she found something in that investigation. I'm not sure what it is, she said she
couldn't say yet....”

“You're babbling,” Harry cut him off. His mind was trying to absorb what Lupin was telling
him, but he still didn't know the most important thing. “What is she investigating?”

Remus looked at Harry for a moment before answering.

“The veil.”

* * *

“I'm sorry for calling you during your morning off, Hermione. But there's an
emergency.”

Hermione hung her cloak and looked at Terry Boot who had come to greet her in the entrance of
the Department of Mysteries. He was wearing the midnight blue outfit that was the only kind of
clothes allowed down there and he looked very nervous.

Terry had joined the team along with Hermione when Harry had declined the offer. He had accepted
immediately and with time, Hermione had found a suitable partner in him. He was smart and hard
working, and really nice to make it better.

“What's wrong?” She asked, following Terry through the doors that led them to their
offices.

“The intruder has been detected again,” Terry explained, opening a door and holding it for
Hermione. “We think this time he, or she, is still around.”

`The intruder' was someone that had been stealing vital information from the Ministry for
some time now. Whomever he was, he was driving everyone crazy. No one knew how he got in or out,
but the truth was, he seemed to know what he was doing. His favorite place seemed to be the
Department of Mysteries and all the Unspeakables and Aurors were doing their best to catch him. But
so far, they didn't have any clues.

“Did anyone inform Kingsley?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. We've been called to a meeting at 5 in the Aurors' Headquearters.”

Hermione paled. “A meeting...are the Aurors going to be there?” she asked, trying to sound
casual.

“Yes,” Terry replied, not noticing her tone. “We need to work all together to catch this
person.”

“Is there any way I could skip the meeting?” she asked, rubbing her forehead. “I have a lot of
work to do.”

Terry gave her a look. “You know that's impossible. Besides, what could be more important
than this? You were the one telling Lupin that we'd need the Aurors' help to deal with
this.”

Great. The last thing she needed now was running into Harry and having to endure his questioning
gaze about her actions lately. She'd have to make something up, quickly. She hated lying,
especially to him, but there wasn't any other choice.

* * *

Harry paced furiously in front of his desk. He was aware he was attracting stares from his work
mates, but he didn't care.

Hermione had been investigating that damned veil all this time and she hadn't told him
anything about it. Why was she interested in it? Remus said she had established that investigation
as a condition to join the Unspeakables. That meant that she had been fixed on the veil for at
least two and a half years. Probably more, knowing Hermione. But never ever had she said anything
about the veil to him. Not even when Sirius had—

What had she found out? Now he knew it had to be something really important. That was what
she'd been trying to tell him. If she was willing to break the stupid secrecy, it had to be
something huge. Something that would interest him.

In the back of his mind, he kept wondering if it had anything to do with Sirius. He knew it was
stupid; his godfather had been gone for eight years... Harry had taken a long time to accept his
death and he didn't want the doubts and questions to surface again.

He needed to talk to Hermione.

“Harry, what are you doing? You're leaving a hole in the floor.”

Harry jumped slightly when he heard Ron's voice. He considered for half a second asking him
if he knew anything about this... But he quickly realized that, if Hermione hadn't told him,
she couldn't have told Ron either. Besides, his male best friend wasn't good at keeping
secrets from him.

Harry turned to look at him with his brow furrowed. Ron had realized after his O.W.L.s that the
Auror life wasn't for him and was now working in the Ministry, in the Department of Magical
Games and Sports. His job consisted in organizing the Quidditch season, and that included free
invitations to every single game. Ron was one of the few people Harry knew that actually got up in
the morning happy that another day of work was starting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, his mind still on that blasted veil.

“I was wondering if you wanted to grab something for lunch,” Ron said, looking at Harry
strangely. “Is everything alright?”

Harry didn't answer. “I have something to do,” he said briskly and walked towards the
elevator.

Ron looked at him with a confusion evident in his face. Tonks, who was sitting at her desk next
to Harry's, smirked.

“Harry's one strange bloke, isn't he?” she commented.

Ron could only nod.

* * *

Harry knew he wasn't supposed to be there. But if he'd gone inside when he wasn't
even working at the Ministry, it couldn't be *that* terrible if he popped inside for a
couple of minutes. After all, he just wanted to find Hermione. He needed to talk to her. He was
surer than ever that she had discovered something, and he couldn't wait until later.

Taking a deep breath in front of the dark door, he tried opening it. He found it weird that it
was unlocked, but he wasn't sure how the security was down there, after all. And who cared? It
made all this easier for him.

Looking around, he realized he hadn't forgotten any detail of the Department of Mysteries.
He sometimes still visited that place in his dreams and wasn't happy to be back. He was hoping
he'd find Hermione quickly and get out.

So many doors. Which one was the one? This was stupid. He would get lost inside the Department
of Mysteries because he couldn't control himself. He knew one of them had to lead to the
offices. What would he do when he got there? They would probably throw a fit because he was inside
without permission. Not to mention Remus would chop his head off.

He followed his instincts and opened one.

Subconscious is a powerful thing. He had gotten himself in the room that had the veil in the
middle... The Death Chamber, they called it? He was about to close the door to pick another one,
when he felt the sudden need to go inside and examine it closely.

He still remembered those voices he had heard... Knowing he would be in trouble for this, but
realizing he didn't care much, he walked up to it. He couldn't help but shudder as he took
in its form and remembered....

“What are you doing here?”

Harry jumped and turned around. He sighed in relief when he saw who had spoken. “Oh, it's
you,” he said. “I'm—I was just looking for Hermione. What are *you* doing here?”

A pause. “I needed to check something.”

“Well, I'm going now,” Harry said, but didn't move. He needed to look at the veil one
more time.

Oh, what a mistake.

At first, he didn't realize what had happened. As he turned around, he felt something
hitting him on the back... A spell. He didn't have time to react and fell forward, right into
the veil, disappearing from sight.

* * *

Hermione waited until it was 5 sharp to head to the Auror Headquarters. In that way, she
wouldn't have time to chat with Harry before the meeting started. And she could always say that
she had something to do to get out quickly once it was over.

Although Unspeakables' identities were restricted to most wizards and witches, Aurors had
access to most of them because they usually had to work together. Like now. When Hermione entered
the Headquarters, a few Aurors waved at her. Remus and Kingsley greeted her with a small nod and
Hermione went directly to the the farthest corner, avoiding to look anywhere in case she met
Harry's stare.

When she sat down, Kingsley started talking.

“You all know why you're here. The intruder has been wandering the Ministry again. This
time, he took some important files from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Remus has
also noticed some confidential material has disappeared from his office as well. I'm sure you
realize how serious this situation is.”

“It means one of two things,” Remus continued. “Our security system is so inefficient that
anyone can violate it, or...” he looked at the group of Aurors and Unspeakables listening carefully
to him, “we have a traitor among us.”

Everyone started talking at the same time. Kingsley asked for order raising his arms.

“Are you suggesting that one of us is stealing information?” asked one Auror named Robert
Frelt.

“We don't want to suspect anyone. We trust all of you...,” Remus started.

“This person obviously knows the Ministry well. He or she knows how we work, where we keep the
important stuff.... And he probably has free access to everywhere,” explained Kingsley, not
sounding very happy about it.

“Could it be that there's more than one person?” asked Pamela Rogers, who worked in the same
division as Hermione. “I can hardly believe that just one man—”

“Or woman,” Frelt said.

“Or woman,” Pamela repeated, glaring at him, “can do this by himself.”

“That's a possibility,” Remus said.

Hermione had half her mind on the meeting. She was looking for Harry. But she couldn't see
him. Sure, there was a lot of people in there, but she had always been able to spot Harry quickly
in a crowd. He was hard to miss after all. Where was he?

“Are you okay? You look distracted,” Terry whispered in her ear.

“I'm fine,” Hermione said. Harry would never miss a meeting like that. What if he was
avoiding her? That was absurd. He was probably dying to ask her about last night.

Kingsley and Remus spent one hour explaining the new security system they would use from now on.
Basically they would take turns to patrol in the Ministry Levels, especially the Department of
Mysteries, Department of Law Enforcement and the Administration offices. Once the meeting was over,
Hermione and Terry commented that if, indeed the intruder was among them, the new security system
wouldn't work very well.

“Are you sure you're fine?” Terry asked, looking at her worriedly. “You're pale.” He
noticed that Hermione was looking around franctically while everyone stood up and grabbed their
cloaks.

“It's just that...” Hermione walked towards the Aurors' cubicles and her eyes went to
look at Harry's desk. His cloak was still hanging there...

“What?” Terry asked, following her gaze.

“Harry wasn't at the meeting.”

“How do you know? There were too much people in that room, Hermione.”

“I just know. But where could he be? He must've had a really good reason to skip it...”

Terry shrugged. “You know Harry. He's always running around.”

This was her chance. Harry wasn't around, she could go home and avoid him for another day
until she thought of a good excuse for her behavior. But she couldn't shrug off that
uneasiness. Somehow she had the feeling that something was wrong. And it was a very familiar
feeling she hadn't felt in a long time, and wasn't missing at all.

“Hermione!”

Tonks was walking towards her between the group of wizards that were heading outside the
Headquarters. Terry took the chance to wave goodbye to Hermione and left with the rest of the
group.

“Hi Tonks,” Hermione said, still thinking about Harry's absence.

Tonks looked around and then lowered her voice. “I heard you chickened out last night.”

“Who told you that?” Hermione asked.

“Harry.”

“Harry said I chickened out?”

Tonks laughed. “No. He said you wanted to tell him something but had stormed out of the
restaurant and left him very worried.”

Hermione bit her lip. “I couldn't help it.... He was staring at me—What did he think about
it? He probably saw right through me....”

“Of course not, Harry is not very assertive when it comes to women.” She let out a sigh. “He
thinks something happened to you related to your job.”

Hermione didn't know if she should feel relieved or frustrated. She was certainly feeling a
mix of both. “Really?”

Tonks nodded. “By the way, why didn't he come to the meeting?”

“I thought you'd know,” Hermione said anxiously.

“No. I saw him this morning...we talked. He wanted to know what was going on with you,” Tonks
said thoughtfully. “He asked me if I knew what you were working in. Of course I didn't, and
then he said he'd talk to Remus and stormed to the elevator.”

Hermione was surprised. “He went to see Remus?”

“Yes. I told you he was worried about you,” Tonks said giving Hermione an amused look. Then he
came back...he was acting really strange. He started pacing, and when Ron came to look for him, he
suddenly said he needed to do something and left. I haven't seen him since then.”

While she knew she should be happy that Harry hadn't realized what she really wanted to tell
him, Hermione was now more worried than before. Where had he gone? She told herself to calm down.
This maybe didn't have to do with her at all. Maybe, Harry had been hinted about one of the
cases he was working on. Should she ask Kingsley? She looked up and saw him discussing something
with Remus in the corner.

“Kingsley will kill Harry for not coming today,” Tonks commented, looking at her boss and Remus
too. “He told him this morning that it was very important he attended.” She frowned. “What could
have possibly made Harry miss the meeting?”

Hermione was wondering the same. Everyone had left now, except for Tonks, Kingley, Remus and
her. She took a deep breath and approached the two men.

“Hermione,” Kingsley said when he saw her coming, “do you know where Harry is?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Hermione answered.

“You mean you haven't talked to him today?” Remus chirped in.

Hermione shook her head. “No. But he must've had something really important to do if he
missed the meeting.”

“He better have had,” growled Kingley, grabbing his files and going out of the room.

“I'd probably should be going too,” Tonks said, stretching. “I can't wait to see what
excuse Harry will come up with,” she said. “Are you coming?” she asked to Remus and Hermione.

“In a minute,” Remus said. Hermione realized he wanted to talk to her alone and stayed as
well.

Tonks shrugged and left them alone.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Hermione asked. “His things are still on his desk....”

“I have no idea...,” he answered. She gazed at him.

“Tonks said he'd gone to talk to you this morning.”

“Um, yeah, he did.”

“About what?”

Remus crossed his arms. “About you. He was worried. He said something was troubling you and you
were trying to ask for his help. He asked me to tell him what were you working on...is everything
alright, Hermione?”

She groaned. Harry always got everything wrong! “Everything's fine. I think Harry
misunderstood me.” She didn't feel like explaining why he might be confused. But Remus was
still looking at her, doubt clear in his eyes. “Remus, if something was going on with my work
you'd be the first one to know. You're the only one that knows what I'm working in!
You're the only one I've told about my discovery,” she said, not noticing the way he
averted his eyes when she said that. “What did you tell him?”

Remus was about to answer when Hermione pulled out her wand. It was glowing blue.

They exchanged a look and hurried to Level 9, where the Department of Mysteries was located.

* * *

“He's been here again!”

“Calm down, Terry,” Remus said, looking around. The small laboratory that Terry Boot shared with
Hermione and a couple of Unspeakables was a complete mess. Potions were spilled on the floor, mixed
with papers and strange ingredients.

“Be careful with what you touch,” Hermione said, waving her wand to clean something.

“He must've gotten inside when we were in the meeting,” Terry said. He looked very upset.
“The report I was working on has disappeared, not to mention a lot of very expensive and rare
specimens—” He took a deep breath. “What about your things, Hermione?”

“I still can't say,” she answered frowning. “I'll have to check everything to know what
is missing.”

“You should probably wait until tomorrow,” Remus said. “I'll send the team to examine
everything...look for fingerprints and any clue that might help us to know who is behind this.”

* * *

It was past midnight when her fireplace turned on. Hermione was sitting in front of it and
jumped. She had been waiting for news of Harry (she had tried calling his apartment but neither he
nor Ron were home) and she almost broke her cup of coffee when she kneeled in front of it to see
who was calling.

It wasn't Harry. It was Remus Lupin.

“Oh, hi,” Hermione said, barely hiding her disappointment.

“I'm sorry for calling at this time,” he apologized, looking grim. “You weren't asleep,
were you?”

“No. Did something happened at the Department? Did you find anything?”

“They are still working on that,” Remus said. “I hope nothing about your investigation was
lost.”

“Don't worry. I keep that stuff in a very secure place,” she said. “So, if you're not
calling about that...,” her eyes widened. “Is it about Harry? What happened to him?”

“You still haven't been able to contact him?” Remus asked, biting his lip.

Hermione shook her head. “Don't you think this is strange? He just disappeared...I'm
really worried, Remus. I should be looking for him.”

Lupin sighed. “I need to confess something.”

She looked at him curiously.

“When Harry came to me this morning...I kinda told him about...your investigation.”

“*What?!*”

Remus looked at her with a fearful look. Hermione didn't bother to hide her anger.

“You told him that I was investigating the veil?” he nodded slowly. “You swore you wouldn't,
Remus!” she exclaimed. “Do you realize what this means?”

“Harry said something was going on with you. I thought it could only be—”

Hermione grabbed her head with both hands. “He must have gone crazy. Harry wasn't supposed
to know about that!”

“Well, in all honesty I don't know either,” Remus said quietly. “You've never told me
what's going on with that veil. You didn't say why you wanted to investigate it, you have
never shared any of your theories with me and you kept to yourself whatever it is that you
discovered about it.”

“There's a reason why I'm not telling you!” Hermione said, glaring at him. “What did
Harry say?”

“He was shocked. He said he needed to think. I thought he would go immediately to see you and
ask you about it.”

“He must have thought it has something to do with Sirius,” Hermione muttered, more to herself
than to him.

“Does it?”

“Sirius is dead, Remus,” she said slowly. “We've needed a long time to accept all that
happened in those two years of the Second War and I don't need old ghosts resurfacing and
coming to hunt Harry again.”

“I'm really sorry, Hermione,” he said after a while. “I know I shouldn't have told him.
But he was desperate. He really thought you were in trouble. I got worried too.”

Hermione only nodded and rubbed her eyes.

“Where do you think he might be?” Remus interrupted her thoughts. “At first I thought he'd
go to the Department of Mysteries, to look for you or at the veil. But we would know by now...”

“Do you know what worries me, Remus? Not only that Harry must have freaked out about the veil.
Not only that I'm sure he is now thinking that I'm hiding something vital from him,
probably hating me for it and who knows what million other stupid things are coming to his head...
He is probably now a suspect. They'll think he might be the one stealing information.”

Remus realized Hermione was right. Harry hadn't gone to the meeting. And someone had entered
in the Department of Mysteries while they were up there. Harry was probably the only Auror that
knew that Department well. And he had records of stealing information before, although it had been
during the war against Voldemort.

“Harry is clean. You and I know it, Hermione.”

“Of course we do, but what about the rest?”

“You think they'll blame him? He's a symbol for the wizarding world,” Remus said, in a
not so confident way. “Don't worry, I'll vouch for him and I'm sure Kingsley will
too... But we are moving too ahead. We should focus on finding him and talking to him first.”

Hermione nodded and said goodbye. Great. Just great. She would now have to explain to Harry
about the veil. And she didn't want to think what he would want to do when he found out what
was behind it.

* * *

-->



2. I'm Lost
-----------

**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?”

* * *