Finding Our Way

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

Harry felt the spell sear his cheek as it sailed by. It ricocheted off the stone wall, and into Hermione, hitting her square in the back. Harry saw her start to fall. “No!” The scream tore from his throat as he rushed to her side, catching her before she could hit the ground. Ron was with them in an instant, helping ease Hermione to the floor. She was alive, but barely. Harry looked up to see what remained of the Order and the DA on guard, looking for the source of the spell. It had been a cheap shot. Only moments before, Voldemort was confirmed destroyed, and the remaining Death Eaters rounded up at wandpoint.

Harry looked at Ron. “Get her to St. Mungo’s. I’ll meet you there. I want to know who hit her, and with what.”

Ron nodded, and he and Hermione Disapparated.

Harry stood up, scanning the dungeon. “No one leaves until we find who cast that spell. It seemed to come up from the floor, so recheck every fallen Death Eater. Someone either fired it off before passing out, or someone’s just pretending to be out. Watch your backs!”

~~~~~~~

Upon arrival, Hermione was taken immediately to the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s, Spell Damage. The Healer now examining her looked like he couldn’t have been more than a couple of years older than Ron, yet his voice was crisp and professional. “Do you know what spell, jinx, or curse she was hit with?”

Ron shook his head without looking up from Hermione. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He had been standing only a few feet away when she was hit. He kept thinking he ought to have been more careful. He ought to have seen it coming. He ought to have done something. It all seemed so unreal. They should be celebrating right now. Instead, she was laying here before him, unconscious.

The Healer spoke as he continued his examination. “It would really help if you could tell me what hit her.” He stopped for a moment until Ron looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” his voice softened a fraction. “This is never easy, but there’s not much we can do until we know what did this.” He ran his hand through his short brown hair, his cool demeanor warming slightly. “In fact, we’re not even sure what this is.”

Hermione lay there between them, still as stone. Ron reached for her hand. He flinched when he felt her icy skin. He didn’t expect her to be so cold. “She is…?”

“Alive? Yes. Barely. She seems stable for now, but the sooner we can figure out how to treat her, the better.” He reached out his hand to Ron. “The name’s Jonas, by the way.”

Ron shook his hand. “Thanks. I’m-”

“Ron Weasley.” Jonas gave a ghost of a smile. “I know who you are, and of course who this is,” he nodded to Hermione. Jonas cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you can tell me…”

It was Ron’s turn to smile, just a bit. “The War is over. We won.” His smile faded as he looked again at Hermione. He made a helpless gesture with his hand. “It was stupid. The fighting had stopped, the Death Eaters were under control, or so we thought. Guess they thought they’d take one more of us with them.” He shook his head. “Harry’s still there right now, trying to sort this. He said he’d be here as soon as he found something.”

~~~~~~~

Harry’s frustration was growing by the second. Every Death Eater there had been confirmed captured, unconscious, or dead. Every single one of their wands had been taken and checked for the last spell cast. Nothing had turned up.

Lupin came up to Harry, touching him on the shoulder. “Go. Ron and Hermione need you. We’ll keep looking.”

Harry swallowed and nodded, Disapparating without a word.

~~~~~~~

Hope lit Ron’s face as Harry entered Hermione’s room. Harry gave a quick shake of his head. Harry’s chest felt heavy as he watched Ron’s face fall, then he felt it seize up completely as he saw Hermione laying there, still and unconscious. “Lupin’s still looking,” Harry managed to say.

“Right.” Ron fidgeted awkwardly, his guilt heavy in his heart. “Harry, I’m-”

“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It was everybody’s fault. We were all exhausted from the fight, and giddy with it finally finished. We let down our guard at the worst possible moment, when we thought it was over. The thing is, it’s never over. There will always be dark wizards and witches out there craving power. There will always be evil. Today we stopped Voldemort, but whether it’s tomorrow, or a hundred years from tomorrow, there will be another. Moody was right, ‘Constant vigilance.’” He looked at Hermione. “This is what happens.”

Harry started to reach for Hermione’s hand, but Ron stopped him. “Wait, she’s ice cold. It scared the hell out of me. I just wanted to warn you.”

Harry nodded, tentatively taking her hand. It was very warm, almost hot. “What are you talking about? She’s burning up!”

Ron took her other hand. “Are you mad? She’s freezing!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, then each took Hermione’s other hand.

“Freezing!”

“Hot!”

Jonas entered the room. “What’s going on?”

He listened as Ron and Harry explained. “So each of you perceives something different when you touch her? Interesting.” He picked up one of Hermione’s hands. “Feels normal to me. Hmm… Harry, touch her again.”

Harry picked up her hand again. It felt extremely warm. Just as he was about to say so, something else caught his attention. Magic… He could feel something subtle, something between a tingle and buzz.

Jonas watched Harry. “What is it?”

“It’s magic,” he said. “There’s something coursing around her, or maybe through her.” He paused, as if listening to it. “I think part of it might be what’s left of the Shield charm we all cast before the fighting started.”

Jonas nodded. “I thought I felt something like that when I was examining her. I didn’t want to lift it until we knew more, just in case it was continuing to protect her from whatever did the damage.”

Harry continued looking at Hermione. “There’s something else underneath it. It feels like it’s pulling me-”

Harry… The thought fluttered weakly on the edges of his mind, Hermione’s voice a distant echo.

“Hermione!” Harry grabbed her hands with both of his.

Realization dawned on Jonas’ face as Harry began to lose consciousness. “Stop!” Jonas tried to break Harry’s hold on Hermione, but it was too late.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who’s reviewed! This is my first ever multi-chapter story, and I was so nervous when I posted that first chapter. I was afraid to check the reviews in the morning! I can’t describe how surprised and absolutely thrilled I am at the response! Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! It’s extremely appreciated!

I do hope you all enjoy this next installment – I definitely don’t want to disappoint!

~~~~~~~

Chapter 2 - A Wild and Distant Shore

Harry let himself be pulled by whatever it was surrounding Hermione. He felt himself going farther and deeper, Ron’s and Jonas’ yelling growing fainter by the second. It felt like a weird combination of the squeezing sensation of Apparating, and the yank behind the navel of a portkey.

After what seemed to Harry like a very long time, he began to see something. He felt firm earth beneath his feet. At first all he could see was a thick fog. In moments it began to clear, revealing an amazing vista opening up before him. He was standing on a high, rocky cliff, with the vastness of the ocean below. The top of the cliff was a vivid green against the bright grey of the thinning fog. The sea was the color of dull steel, with a pale beige strip of sand near the foot of the cliffs.

A storm was moving in. The wind was picking up, and the water below was churning, the waves breaking farther and farther up the shore.

Harry… where are you?

“Hermione?” He could sense she was close, but looked around and saw no one. Then, something on the sand below caught his eye. He saw her there, alone on the beach. She looked so tiny against the expanse of sand and water. He shouted her name, though he knew there was no way she could hear him over the roar of the surf and the howl of the wind.

~~~~~~~

The last thing Hermione knew, she was in the dungeon, standing between Ron and Harry. It was over, finally over! And then the oddest sensation; it was as if her body had turned to water, with her consciousness floating away on the tide. She became solid again, here on the stormy shore.

“Harry! Ron!” Her call to them came unbidden, without thought. Her voice sounded small to her ears, swallowed up by the song of the wind and waves. However, the call was not merely vocal. It sounded from her heart, echoing out in ever widening circles, waiting for an answer.

Hermione surveyed her surroundings. She seemed to be alone. After all the things she’d seen and done while helping Harry destroy the horcruxes and defeat Voldemort, her current situation didn’t perturb her much, yet. She knew there was a logical explanation for however she got wherever she was, and she was confident she would find a way back to Harry and Ron.

She searched her robes and realized her wand was gone. Not good. Now I’m beginning to worry, she thought.

She turned her back to the sea, trying to see over the top of the cliff. She was too close to the foot of the cliff, and saw nothing but jagged, vertical rock. She backed away, almost to the water’s edge, but still couldn’t quite see. She took off her shoes and socks, and hitched up her robes, taking a step backwards. She felt as though a thousand tiny knives had been plunged into her foot. She sucked in her breath at the pain, and braced herself as she took another step into the icy water.

She looked up. Almost… Her feet were becoming numb, the water now hitting her at the knees. She looked up again, her pain rewarded.

“Harry!”

She saw him standing near the edge of the cliffs, the sight of him making her heart leap. She was sure if she just waved, he was bound to see her. She held her robes with one hand, and jumped up and down, waving with the other. She couldn’t help shouting his name, even though she knew he couldn’t possibly hear her.

~~~~~~~

Harry was trying to decide how he would get down to her, when he felt that odd squeezing/pulling sensation.

“No!”

He found himself back in Hermione’s room, with Ron and Jonas staring at him.

“What?!” Harry looked at them angrily, and Ron was glad that looks indeed, could not kill.

“You’ve been out for at least a couple of hours, mate.” Ron looked a bit nervous. “I wasn’t about to lose you, too.”

Harry was torn between appreciation and anger. Anger won. “She’s not lost! I’d found her when you yanked me back!”

“You found her? Where is she?” Ron’s eyes lit up with hope.

“Excuse me gentlemen,” Jonas stepped in and began examining Harry. “You were just unconscious for over two hours. I need to make sure you’re ok. It wasn’t easy getting you back.” After a few moments, Jonas was satisfied Harry was fine and stepped away.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That long? It seemed like only a few minutes. That’s odd.”

“Maybe that’s part of this thing,” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “How did you bring me back?”

“It was his idea, actually,” Jonas answered, pointing to Ron.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was an ‘idea,’ exactly.” Ron stalled. “Thing is, we were rather limited. I tried to Rennervate you, but it didn’t work. Jonas dug into his healer’s bag of tricks, but no joy there either. We didn’t want to try finite incantatem on you because we didn’t want to accidentally end any Shield charm that might be left on you, along with whatever else might have been going on spell-wise.”

“So…?” Harry gestured to Ron to continue.

Ron’s ears turned faintly pink, while Jonas stifled a snort of a laugh.

“It was the darnedest thing I’d ever seen,” Jonas said, shaking his head.

“Yes, well,” Ron blew out his breath.

“Out with it already!” Harry said.

Ron was looking anywhere but at Harry. “I yelled at you.”

“What?!”

Ron, flaming with embarrassment looked at Harry. “That’s right, I yelled at you!”

Harry shook his head while opening and closing his mouth, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard.

Jonas looked at him and laughed, losing what was left of any pretense of his professional demeanor. “That’s right Harry. Ron yelled, and you came back!”

“We’d tried everything,” Ron said. “And in a fit of frustration, I yelled at you to come back. I can’t tell you how stunned I was!”

Harry thought for a moment, and seemed to regain his composure. “I thought you’d both gone barmy, but after the day we’ve had, I suppose anything is possible. The important thing is, you got me back. Thanks, mate.”

“Any time,” Ron smiled. “Most importantly, you found Hermione. How are we going to get her back?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have a better idea once I’ve talked to her. I don’t even know ‘where’ she is, exactly, or how she got there.”

“I’m going with you,” Ron said.

“Ok, let’s go then.” Harry took Hermione’s hand, indicating to Ron to do the same.

“Er, Harry?”

Harry looked up at Ron’s tone of voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t feel it. That pull thing.”

Harry could see the disappointment on his face. He thought fast. “No worries. We can probably go side-along-”

“Hold it there guys.” Jonas cut them off. “There’s no way I’m letting you both back out into the unknown. One, it’s too risky when we don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet, and two, I’ve got other people to tend to. I don’t have all day to baby sit you both.”

Harry and Ron both looked like they were about to argue, but Jonas continued. “If that wasn’t enough, we don’t have a reliable way to revive you. Yes, that yelling thing worked once – Merlin knows how or why – but that could have been some sort of fluke.”

“We need to find out what’s going on with Hermione. We can’t just leave her in this state,” Ron said.

“I’m not suggesting that,” Jonas said. “Ron, since you can’t feel whatever it is Harry can, you can stay here and watch over him and Hermione. If you can come up with a fool proof way to revive Harry, you have my full support.”

“Fair enough,” Ron said, but Harry knew Ron was disappointed.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jonas brushed past them both and left.

~~~~~~~

A/N: I got the title for this chapter from the title of a track from “The Piano” soundtrack.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who’s read and reviewed! It’s very much appreciated!

~~~~~~~

Chapter 3 – There and Back Again

“This is exactly the sort of thing we usually need Hermione to help us out with,” Ron said.

The irony was not lost on Harry. “Yeah, I know.”

Ron smacked himself in the forehead. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before.”

“What?”

“Why not try shouting at Hermione? I mean, it worked on you.”

Harry laughed half-heartedly. “Why that worked, we’ll probably never know. But it’s worth a shot.”

“On the count of three?”

Harry nodded.

“One, two, three – HERMIONE!!!”

“What the…!” Jonas rushed into the room. He looked at Ron and Harry, then at an unresponsive Hermione. “Next time gentlemen, either a heads up, or a silencing charm would be appreciated.”

Harry and Ron looked sheepish, and disappointed.

“You two get an ‘E’ for effort, at least. I’m kind of embarrassed I didn’t think of trying that myself. Have there been any changes?” Jonas began checking over Hermione.

Harry answered. “Not that we can tell. As soon as we figure out a way to revive me, I’m going to go back. Ron thought we might as well give yelling a shot first.”

Ron shrugged.

Jonas finished examining Hermione and looked at Ron and Harry. “It didn’t hurt anything. Besides, you never know. I’m guessing it didn’t work because of the spell she is under. When my shift is over, I’m going to do some research and see if I can find anything useful. In the meantime, she seems to be about the same. Get me right away if you make any headway. Just tap that symbol on the wall above the bed with your wand,” he pointed to the St. Mungo’s symbol of the crossed wand and bone, with a glowing “J” over the center. “The ‘J’ means I’m on call. I’ll be back in a while to check on things.”

Harry looked at the symbol, something occurring to him. He called to Jonas as he was almost out the door. “Jonas, wait a minute. I’ve got a question.”

Jonas stopped and turned around. “Shoot.”

Harry pointed to the glowing “J” on the wall. “How does that work? What happens when a wand touches it?”

A slow grin widened over Jonas’ face. “Good one!”

Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Jonas. “Good what?”

“When the ‘J’ is touched with a wand, it sends a signal to a small medal I wear on a leather thong around my neck.” Jonas pulled the medal out from under his robes, showing it to Harry and Ron. On one side was a mini-version of the same seal that was on the wall; on the other was a cross with equal, but staggered arms.

“It’s St. Brigid’s Cross. St. Brigid is the patron saint of healers. A Muggle saint,” Jonas added. “We get to pick pretty much whatever we want for the back of the medal, to personalize it.” He gestured to the symbol on the wall. “Go ahead, one of you touch it.”

Ron pulled out his wand and tapped the symbol. Jonas’ medal began to glow a soft blue, and emitted a very faint hum.

Jonas held out his medal. “Here, feel it.”

Harry reached for the medal. Not only was it very warm, but it also was vibrating. “Wow,” he said, impressed.

Jonas spoke as Ron took his turn feeling the medal. “Light, heat, sound, vibration, pretty much all the senses are covered, except for scent.” Ron gave Jonas an odd look as Jonas explained. “Some of the female healers tried to charm them into smelling like perfume or flowers, which was ok for a little while. Unfortunately, a male patient had an allergic reaction to one of the scents, and was covered in a rather amusing floral pattern for days.” Jonas laughed. “After that, no scents allowed!”

Ron and Harry grinned.

“So you think we can use something like this as a system to get Harry back?” Ron asked.

“Exactly. It’s a fairly simple charm,” Jonas said.

“Reminds me of the DA coins,” Ron said after Jonas explained the charm.

“That’s what I thought when Jonas showed us that symbol,” Harry said.

A short while later, Jonas had given Ron and Harry a “blank” set of on-call medals. Not long after that, they had charmed them to not only alert Harry after he’d been out two hours, but also to act as a mini-portkey to bring him back.

“I see one small hitch with these,” Ron said, looking at his medal.

“What’s that?” asked Harry.

“Well, your body is here. It’s just your mind that goes wherever Hermione is. How do we know the medal will go with you?”

Jonas said, “That’s a good question.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said. “But when I’m there, I’m not starkers. My robes are there, so I just figured this would be, too.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Ron said. “Are you ready?”

Harry nodded, then slipped the medal over his head, and tucked it under his robes.

“I’ll be back in two hours to check on all three of you,” Jonas said.

Harry pulled up a chair next to Hermione (“No sense in being uncomfortable,” Ron had pointed out.), then took her hand.

“I’ll be here, mate.”

Ron was the last thing Harry saw before letting himself be pulled to Hermione.

~~~~~~~

Hermione thought she saw Harry disappear. A long moment later, he was at her side on the shore. His sudden appearance made her jump. She laughed with relief. “Harry! Apparating next to me like that scared the life out of me!”

“Hermione! Can you hear me?”

“What do you mean? I’m right in front of you!”

Harry tried again, “Hermione!” She was still, except for the wind whipping her unruly hair around her face. She stood as if transfixed, her eyes seemingly focused on some point far out to sea. “It’s me, Harry!”

“I know it is, you prat!” She said it playfully, but concern was edging her voice. “Why are you acting so weirdly?” Harry seemed to just stare at her, through her. “What’s going on? Can’t you hear me?”

Harry waved his hands in front of her face, hoping to at least make her blink. Nothing. Harry sighed, trying to think what to do next.

She watched as he waved his arms around. “Harry, you’ve got to hear me! I don’t know where this is, or how to get out.”

Harry reached out to touch her shoulder, but his hand went right through her.

Hermione gasped. She saw Harry’s hand go through thin air, but felt as though something incredibly hot had passed through her shoulder. What the…? She thought, grabbing her shoulder. “Harry, what’s going on?”

Harry was disappointed, but somehow not surprised. “Hermione, if there’s any way you can hear me, I need you to let me know. Blink, move, say something, anything!”

Hermione yelled as loudly as she could, “Harry!” but he just stood there, waiting. “You can’t hear me, can you?”

Harry watched her closely, but didn’t see or hear any indication she’d heard him. “Hermione, I hope you can hear me somehow. You need to know, your body is back at St. Mungo’s. You’re unconscious.”

Hermione looked down, and patted herself all over. She felt just as real and solid as ever. Odd, she thought. The sand under her feet felt real, as did the icy water when she had stepped into it earlier. “Harry, I feel solid,” she said, still hoping he’d hear her.

“I’m here to try to bring you back,” Harry continued. Just then, Harry felt his medal start to warm and vibrate. “No! Not yet!”

Hermione watched, puzzled, as Harry pulled a small, glowing and humming medal from under his robes. Moments later, he disappeared. Her frustration coursed through her, an almost physical force. “No! Harry!”

Harry felt himself being pulled back to his body, but not before Hermione’s voice rang through his head, calling his name.

~~~~~~~

Harry lifted his head. He felt as though he were suddenly made out of lead.

“You don’t look so good,” Ron said. “What happened?”

Harry wanted to throw or break something in frustration, but every bit of him felt completely drained. “I need more time! It seems like only a few minutes there.”

Jonas began examining Harry. “This seems to be taking a toll on you, Harry. I don’t think you should try that again until you’ve had some food and some rest. Otherwise, you seem ok.”

“On the bright side, the medals seem to work,” said Ron.

Harry shook his head. “She can’t hear me.” Saying it out loud somehow made it worse. “I can hear her, but it’s just flashes.” The weight of the day came crashing down on him. It didn’t seem possible that only a few hours ago he was facing down Voldemort in an epic battle. Now he was facing a different sort of battle. “I can hear her call my name.” With that, he felt the last of his strength leave him. He laid his head down on Hermione’s bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Harry had vague recollections of barely waking enough to sip some tea and take a couple of bites of toast. He was now completely awake, and saw he was in one of the bedrooms at the Burrow. Ginny appeared a few moments later, carrying a tray laden with a pot of tea, and a full English breakfast. The savory smell of bacon, eggs, beans, and tomatoes filled the room. Harry’s stomach growled loudly as he sat up in bed.

Ginny smiled. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” She set down the tray in front of Harry.

Harry smiled back. Then he remembered Hermione.

Ginny saw the shift on his face. “She’s the same. I’m sorry Harry.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Harry asked.

“A couple of days.” Ginny sat down on the edge of his bed. “My parents and I showed up not long after you passed out. Ron and the rest of us got you back here.”

“Thank you.” As hard as the last several months had been, Harry realized it felt good to be taken care of. “Do her parents know?”

Ginny nodded. “Mum and dad got word to them. They’re with her now.”

“That’s good.” Harry took a sip of tea, the strong liquid warming him.

Ginny picked up a piece of toast, buttered it, and handed it to Harry. “The Wizarding world’s gone mad. With Voldemort gone, the Ministry has been swamped. The celebrating has gotten pretty out of hand, with Obliviators working around the clock on damage control. Then there are Death Eaters trying to take advantage of the chaos, and of course some of them are bucking for Voldemort’s position as head evil person.”

Harry shook his head as he attacked his breakfast. He was ravenous. “Has the Order made any headway on who or what got Hermione?” he managed around mouthfuls.

Ginny shook her head. “Not that they would tell me much, anyway. But from what Ron’s said, they haven’t had much luck.”

Disappointment began to dull Harry’s appetite. He put down his fork. “Where is Ron?”

“You really ought to keep eating. You need the strength. You look like you’ve been locked up at the Dursley’s for months.”

Harry glared at her, but took a bite of his eggs.

“Ron’s with Hermione. He figured one of you ought to be there,” said Ginny.

“I need to get back to her.”

“We all figured you’d say that.” Ginny got up. “Mum washed your robes. They’re hanging up in the wardrobe.”

Harry suddenly realized he was in pajamas. “How… who…?”

Ginny flashed him a wicked grin.

At Harry’s shocked look she said, “It was either me, or Fred and George. Now would you really want the two of them changing your clothes?”

As Harry gaped, Ginny laughed. “Relax. It was mum, and she did it with magic. Your dignity is quite intact.”

Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

~~~~~~~

Harry arrived at Hermione’s room and found it empty. His heart leapt into his throat. A short, plump witch popped out of the next room. She patted Harry on the arm and said, “They’ve moved her, love. She’s in the Janus Thickey ward.”

Harry’s heart slid from his throat to his stomach. “Thank you.”

Only Ron was with Hermione when Harry reached her bed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in quite a while. Ron held one of Hermione’s hands in his, gently stroking it.

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“They moved her here last night,” Ron said. “They don’t think-” his voice caught in his throat.

“They’re wrong! I know she’s in there, and there’s got to be a way to bring her back. We’ll find it!”

Ron nodded.

“Where are Hermione’s parents? Ginny said they’ve been here.”

“They had to go back to their home to get some things. They’ll be back.”

“Did Jonas find anything?” asked Harry.

“He hasn’t had a lot of time in between his shifts,” Ron said. “He’s been looking through books for things that separate people from their bodies, to try and figure out ways to put her back. Unfortunately, there’s a lot on ways to take someone out, but not much on how to put them back.”

“We’ll do it, Ron. We will.”

Ron went on as if Harry hadn’t spoken. “She’s still icy.” He looked down at his hands on hers. “Bet she’s still warm to you.”

“What?”

“Take her hand, Harry. Tell me. What do you feel?”

Harry looked at Ron, thinking he was losing it a bit, and who could blame him? He took Hermione’s free hand, and it was still quite warm. He saw Ron watching him.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what that’s about. It probably doesn’t mean anything,” Harry said.

Ron looked down at Hermione, still stroking her hand. “Why is it you hear her, and I don’t?”

“I don’t know. It’s probably got something to do with the spell-”

Ron interrupted him. “I was going to tell her, Harry. If we made it through, I was going to tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Harry was beginning to feel a bit exasperated.

“I love her.”

~~~~~~~

A/N: Yep, the chapter title is a JRR Tolkien reference! (Just for fun.)

A/N: Hello! My apologies for taking so long to update. Real Life has been rearing its ugly head. I’ve also had a cold for the last week and a half, which didn’t help matters. This chapter took on a life of its own, and I wanted to make sure I was happy with it before posting. I do hope it’s worth the wait!

Thank you to everyone who has read this far, and special thanks to everyone who’s reviewed! Without further ado…

Chapter 4 – While You Were Sleeping

Her frustration was almost a physical thing. Hermione felt as though it was torn out of her as she yelled Harry’s name. She sank down to the cool sand, her head in her hands, the incoming storm overhead. She felt the grains of sand sifting through her toes, and the wind, thick with humidity and ocean mist, slapping against her skin. Unconscious? she thought. Harry had said her body was at St. Mungo’s. She looked at the restless waves pounding the shore, and the towering cliffs looming above. She listened to the deep rumble of distant thunder, and the cries of seagulls looking for shelter. With the scent of sea and ozone in the air, she found it difficult to believe her body was elsewhere. She found it difficult to believe, in fact, that what seemed like a few minutes ago, she had just witnessed Voldemort’s defeat and the end of one of the most horrific wars in Wizarding history.

A surge of the rising tide came close enough to nip at Hermione’s toes. She realized before doing anything else, she needed to find shelter from the storm. Her initial survey of the shoreline wasn’t promising. She was almost literally between a rock and a hard place, with the water closing in in front of her, and the cliffs darkly forbidding behind. She jogged a hundred yards or so to her right, only to round a corner and find the water already meeting the cliffs. She ran back the way she came, fighting the panic that threatened to rise with the tide. Come on! she thought. There’s got to be something! If only I had my wand…

She knew it was most likely impossible for her to climb the cliffs to the top, but unless she wanted to be beaten against the rocks when the tide came in, she didn’t see what choice she had. She began to look for the most likely place to start climbing, when something caught her eye. There was a cleft in the rocks she hadn’t seen before. It looked high enough so the water wouldn’t reach it, but not so high she couldn’t make her way up. She thanked the powers that be, slipped on her shoes and socks, and began to climb.

It wasn’t easy. By the time she reached the cleft, she was bruised and bloody, having slipped on the damp rocks, scraping herself multiple times during her climb. She looked down to see the water had reached the cliffs. The cleft in the rock opened into a small cave. She pulled herself just inside, leaning against it and catching her breath. The howl of the wind, the roar of the surf, and the boom of thunder were nearly deafening. A flash of lightening temporarily blinded her. Hermione shut her eyes against it all, the chaos outside a reflection of the thoughts and emotions she felt within. There were so many questions swirling around her head, each battling for her attention. There were equally as many emotions. One thing at a time, she told herself.

Hermione wondered where Harry and Ron were. At that moment, a particularly spectacular chain of lightening shattered the black sky, followed immediately by an eruption of thunder that shook the cliff.

~~~~~~~

“I love her.”

Ron’s tone left no room for misunderstanding.

Harry was dumbstruck.

Ron gave a mirthless laugh. “The joke’s on me though, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“No, of course not. You don’t even see it! Why do you think she’s warm to you but cold to me? Why do you think you can hear her, but I don’t?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know! But we’re going to get her back, and you can tell her then.”

“You’re thick, Harry. Can’t you see she’s already chosen you?”

“She hasn’t chosen anything, Ron!”

“I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that you chucked my sister to go after the woman I love, or that the woman I love, loves you.”

“You know damn well I didn’t ‘chuck’ Ginny! And I’ve never gone after Hermione!” Harry tried to calm himself. He knew Ron was sleep deprived, and exhausted with worry over Hermione. However, Ron’s words stung. “Romance was the last thing on my mind these last months. All I wanted was to finish Voldemort, and keep my friends safe. I didn’t think about what would come next.”

Ron snorted. “Of course not. That’s just it. You don’t think. You’ve got that saving-people-thing, where you jump right in and worry about it later.”

Harry felt his temper rising, in spite of his efforts not to let it. “That ‘saving-people-thing,’ has saved you more than once, and you never complained then!”

“This goes way beyond that! You love her! You’re doing this because you love her!”

“You know what? You’re right!” Harry shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re right, I love her! And you, too! You stupid, thick-headed, idiotic prat! If it were you lying here, I’d do the same!”

Ron’s voice quieted. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

Harry slowly unclenched his fists, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “I thought it went without saying.”

“Yeah mate. You’re right.” He looked at Hermione’s unconscious form. “I’ve been by her side and yours, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~~~~~

The wind and rain had let up a bit. Hermione eased her head outside the opening in the rock and ventured a look around. The storm seemed to be on its way out, with the occasional rumble of thunder increasingly distant. The sky was overcast, but light was coming back into the sky. She looked down to see the beach still beneath the tide. It would be a while yet before she could go anywhere.

Hermione realized she had no idea how long she’d been there. I’d love to know where “here” is!, she thought. She was having difficulty getting a feel for the passage of time. She also realized she was neither hungry, nor thirsty. She thought she should at least feel thirsty after the hard climb up the cliff. She thought again of Harry telling her she was unconscious. Well, it makes about as much sense as anything else. She sat down on the floor of the cave, and inspected her arms and legs. She saw multiple minor cuts, and the beginnings of what would probably be some spectacular bruises.

She thought of how she’d often have dreams that were so vivid, she didn’t realize they were dreams until she awoke. Maybe it’s something like that, she thought. She also thought that if this weren’t real, she ought to be able to control things somehow. She always thought it would be great to be able to control her dreams, but she’d never been able to. No matter how hard she tried, she’d always forget she was dreaming, and forget to try. I haven’t forgotten, this time! She looked at a small cut on her arm that was still bleeding just a bit, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She imagined clear, unbroken skin where the cut was. She thought she felt a faint tingling sensation where the cut was. She nervously cracked one eye open. Success! She smiled, thrilled to finally feel some sort of control over her situation. Energized, she closed her eyes and set to work on the rest of her cuts and bruises.

~~~~~~~

“What happens, when you’re there?” Ron asked.

Harry pulled up a chair next to Hermione and sat down. “She’s standing there, with a hundred mile stare. She doesn’t move or talk.”

Ron sat down on her opposite side, taking her hand in both of his. “I thought you said you could hear her.”

Harry shook his head. “I know. I did!” Without thinking, he took Hermione’s other hand, and began gently stroking it. “It’s weird. She doesn’t speak, but her voice is in my head. There’s got to be another layer to this.”

Ron’s face was thoughtful. “So, maybe,” he said slowly, “What you’re seeing isn’t really her, and what you’re hearing is.”

“That could be. It would explain some things, anyway.”

Ron noticed Hermione’s other hand in Harry’s. “Do you feel that pull right now?”

Harry looked down at his hand linked with hers. “Yeah, actually. But I can choose to go with it or not.”

“I wish I felt it, too. I wish I knew why you can and I can’t.”

“Maybe it’s because the spell grazed me before it hit her,” Harry offered.

“Yeah, maybe.” Ron wasn’t too convinced, but appreciated the suggestion. “That doesn’t explain why she’s cold to the touch to me, but warm to you.”

Harry ran his free hand through his hair. “I just don’t know, Ron.”

An awkward moment of silence fell between them. Harry could clearly see how much Hermione meant to Ron. She meant the world to him, too, but he hadn’t thought of her that way. He always figured she and Ron would either get together, or hex each other into oblivion. He had loved Ginny, but sacrificed his happiness with her to protect her. He couldn’t live with himself if something had happened to her because of him. Once he’d begun his search for the horcruxes, he hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of imagining what might be if he succeeded in his quest, and somehow vanquished Voldemort. Now that he had managed to do just that, he hadn’t spared a thought to anything except getting Hermione back.

What he’d told Ron was true; he’d be doing this for him, for any of his friends. He didn’t know why he felt a pull to Hermione when no one else did, or why she felt warm to him but cold to Ron. He didn’t even know if any of that mattered or not. What he did know, was that he wanted Hermione to be safe, and for her and Ron to be happy. If that meant they would be together, then he’d be happy, too.

An unexpected pang hit him at that thought. He chalked it up to worry over Hermione, and pushed it aside the best he could.

“I’ll tell you this Ron, I promise you I will do everything I can to bring her back,” Harry said.

Ron nodded. “Let’s get to it, then. Are you ready to try again?”

“Almost. I want to be better prepared though. I think what you said is right, that what I’m seeing might not really be her. Since I could hear her, I wonder if she really could hear me.”

“What was going on when you heard her before?” Ron asked.

“I was leaving.”

~~~~~~~

Hermione was quite pleased. She’d managed to “heal” all her cuts and bruises. The storm outside had cleared completely, leaving a stunningly beautiful view from her cave. The sun was shining bright gold in a clear azure sky, with aquamarine water below. The tide had receded, revealing clean sand, strewn with glittering seashells. This may be a dream, but the scenery sure is nice!

Now that she had taken care of her cuts and scrapes, she wondered what else she could do. Maybe I could will myself to wake up. She tried with all her might, concentrating, telling herself to wake up, even pinching herself, to no avail. Maybe I can just apparate out of here! She concentrated, and felt a thrill of hope surge through her as she began to feel the familiar squeezing sensation. Suddenly, she felt as though she’d hit a rubber wall and bounced back to the cave. What the…?! She tried again and again, with the same results. Is there some sort of anti-apparition charm in place? Then again, if my body is somewhere else, would I be able to apparate anyway?

She walked to the opening of the cave again. The tide was out, but there didn’t seem to be a point in climbing back down to the beach. She looked up to see how far it was to the top of the cliff. A moment later, inspiration struck. If I can’t apparate out of here, maybe I can apparate within here! She took another look at the top of the cliff to fix it in her mind’s eye, and…

Pop!

Progress!

She was standing on the top of the cliff. The sky and sea stretched out before her. She turned around to see sweeping fields of bright green grass that eventually sloped up into a wooded area. Some shelter would be good. She knew this was some sort of elaborate dream, probably spell-induced, and although she was starting to have some control, she knew she’d feel cold and wet if another storm came through. And face it, she told herself, you don’t know how long you’re going to be here. The thought made her suddenly sad, and start to feel a bit lonely. Stick to the matter at hand!

She scanned the horizon and saw in the distance what looked to be a small stone cottage. I don’t suppose it comes with a library? She began to walk toward it.

~~~~~~~

“There’s something else,” Harry said. “I need more time. I know it’s a couple of hours here, but it seems like just a couple of minutes there. At that rate, making any progress will take forever.”

“I know. I’m with you on that! But after a couple of hours, you seem pretty wiped. I’m afraid to see the shape you’d be in if we left you any longer.”

Harry sighed. Part of him just wanted to say, “To hell with it!” and go as long as it took to get Hermione back, and damn the consequences. He gave her hand a squeeze. Something felt different. He hadn’t noticed it at first while talking to Ron, but now that it had caught his attention…

Ron saw the slight scowl of concentration on Harry’s face. “What is it?”

“The spell is weakening.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Then she’ll come back, right?”

“I don’t know.” Harry stretched out with his magic, sensing the forces at work around Hermione. “The pull is weakening too! She could get stuck like this, permanently.” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice, but Ron had known him way too long for Harry to be able to hide anything from him.

That note of fear sent a chill bone deep through Ron.

Harry looked straight at Ron. “We’re running out of time.”

“Go.”

~~~~~~~

As Hermione walked towards the cottage, she saw it was actually a cabin. Wait, a cottage. No, a cabin. What the…?! She stopped and looked at the cottage/cabin. As she tried to bring it into focus, she saw it shift back and forth between the two forms; first there were smooth, gray stones, then next, rough hewn, brown logs. Both structures had features she found interesting. The stone cottage seemed strong and sturdy, something that would withstand the wind and rain. However, the stones somehow spoke to her of coldness, and isolation. The cabin seemed much more warm and cozy, with flowers in window boxes. However, she knew that wood was subject to fire, and if one wasn’t careful, the whole thing could go up in flames.

The cottage/cabin shifted with her contemplations. Interesting… She hadn’t realized she’d chosen until she saw the cabin solidify into place. She thought her head would have seen the logic in choosing the cottage in a place given to storms. However, her heart seemed to have been drawn to the cabin, and apparently my heart has jurisdiction here.

She approached the cabin, looking for signs of inhabitance. The grass around the perimeter was neatly kept, and the outside of the cabin was in good condition. There were three long, shallow steps leading up to a deck that extended across the front of the cabin. There was a bench near the door, and pots of geraniums on either side of the top of the steps, and at either end of the deck. She knocked on the door and waited. No answer. She knocked again and waited. When there was still no answer, she tried the door and found it unlocked. As she opened it, she felt a bit like Goldilocks in the Muggle children’s story. She wondered if she’d see three bowls of porridge, or three differently sized chairs.

Instead she saw the Gryffindor common room.

For just a moment, she expected to see Harry and Ron sitting there playing Wizard chess, or exploding snap. She shook her head to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Well of course you’re imagining things. This is a dream, after all. From long habit, she walked to her favorite chair and plopped into it. It was near the fireplace, and had a nice little table next to it, perfect for setting books on. Without thinking, she reached over to the table, her fingers brushing a book. She picked it up. The first thing she noticed was that it had a nice size and weight to it; thick and heavy enough to be substantial, but not unwieldy. The cover had no title, but rather a subtle, shifting shimmer of light and color all over it. She wasn’t sure, but the book actually seemed to be giving off a little bit of warmth. She looked at the spine. The only words written on it were at the bottom: Erised Press.

She opened the book, and on the overleaf was hand written in a loopy, glittering red script: Reflections, A Scrapbook of Hermione’s Heart’s Desires. She was taken aback at first. However, she remembered she was in a dream of sorts, and curiosity got the better of her. The book was filled with wizard photos. They were all of things she had wanted throughout her life. Some she had gotten, others she hadn’t. The first several photos were of things she remembered wanting as child. There was the kitten she had wanted, but was unable to have because her mother was allergic. However, next to that was the beautiful leather bound set of encyclopedias her parents gave her for her tenth birthday. The fragrance of the textured volumes almost wafted up from the page.

There were things she hadn’t realized she’d wanted. She beamed at the photo of herself excitedly hugging her parents; her letter of acceptance to Hogwart’s clutched in one hand. The day she discovered she was a witch was one of the best in her young life.

There were photos from her years at Hogwart’s, some reflecting things she had achieved (such as producing a full Patronus and successfully earning her Apparition license), while others were of things she wished she had achieved. She smiled at a photo of every student at Hogwart’s wearing a S.P.E.W. badge, and all the house elves being freed and paid wages.

She laughed when she saw a picture of herself dancing with Viktor Krum. She blushed when she saw her first kiss. It had been a little awkward, but Viktor was unexpectedly gentle. Another photo was fighting for the center position on the page. It was an image of her with Ron. It had never happened, but was something she’d imagined many times during their fourth year. He finally saw her as a girl, a pretty girl, and finally kissed her. It was weird to see, but what was even more weird, was how it made her feel. Instead of being happy or excited, or even embarrassed, she felt oddly empty, as though she’d finally gotten something she’d always wanted, only to realize she didn’t want it at all.

She turned the page, and her heart skipped a beat. No, it can’t be… She saw herself in Harry’s arms. Harry! This photo seemed so much more vivid than the rest. They were looking into each other’s eyes, the depth of emotion made her breath catch in her throat, and her heart start to pound. She watched, transfixed, as he reached up and gently caressed her cheek, then cupped her face in his hands. He slowly moved closer, tilting his head, brushing her lips with his. Hermione could almost feel the warmth of his mouth on hers as she watched their images kiss. She put her fingers to her lips, suddenly desperately wanting the image to be real.

She felt at once as though she’d been hit head on by the Hogwart’s Express, and as if she could see for the very first time, never even realizing she’d been blind.

~~~~~~~

This time it wasn’t so much her voice in his head, it was a surge in his heart. Harry had never felt anything like it, but he knew instinctively Hermione was calling to him, and that time was running out. It was unsettling, even more so than hearing her. This feeling reached his very core, and he had no idea what to make of it. There wasn’t time to figure it all out. Right now he could only take it as a sign to bring her back as quickly as possible. He didn’t know how he was going to do that, but he knew he had to act or she would be lost.

“Promise me something, mate. Whatever happens, don’t bring me back.”

Ron considered arguing, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He simply said. “Don’t come back without her.”

Harry gave a quick nod and took a deep breath. He took both of Hermione’s hands in his. The pull was growing weaker, and instead of just letting himself be taken by it, he actively pursued it, chasing it with his will and energy. He traced it to its source, Hermione.

When he found himself in the Gryffindor common room, he was sure he’d made a mistake. Then he saw her. She was sitting in one of her favorite squashy chairs, her nose in a book.

“Hermione!”

She looked up and saw Harry standing only a few feet away. She blushed flaming crimson and was surprised her cheeks didn’t catch fire. Then her heart sank as she remembered he probably couldn’t hear her, anyway. “Harry?”

He had started to walk towards her, her voice in his head stopping him.

“Harry! Can you hear me?” She was hoping beyond hope he finally could.

“Hermione?” She sat in the chair, not looking up from the book. He crossed the room to her, then looked over her shoulder.

“Shit!” And Hermione Jane Granger was not given to using expletives!

“What?” The swearword echoed in Harry’s head. Then he saw what Hermione had been reading. “Oh… Oh!”

Hermione was seriously grateful that spontaneous combustion was reserved for phoenixes.

Harry saw himself kissing Hermione. The strange thing was, it wasn’t strange at all. In fact, it was more like déjà vu; as if he’d really done it thousands of times before and just happened to be seeing it for the first time. There was a logical part of his brain that knew there were all sorts of ramifications to this, but for once, he let his heart ignore them all. Moments ago, time was of the essence. Now he felt like there was all the time in the world. His brain could wait. He could finally let his heart have its desire.

He reached down and put his hand on her shoulder.

And she reached up and put her hand on his.

He held his breath. She turned and looked up at him.

“Harry!”

“Hermione!”

They spoke at the same time, then laughed as so much tension was finally released. She got up from the chair and was in his arms. There were about a thousand things running through both their heads, but at that moment only one seemed important. They smiled at one another, warm, deep, genuine, passionate. And finally, they kissed. A connection made.

And lost.

Harry was ripped from Hermione and violently thrown back into his body at St. Mungo’s, feeling as though he was suddenly weighted down with lead. “No!” He wanted to scream, but it came out almost a moan. He felt Ron at his side. He heard rather than saw that Jonas was there, checking him over.

“Mate, what happened? Hermione…” Harry heard the fear in Ron’s voice.

Harry tried to speak, but all he could manage at that moment was a gurgle.

“Don’t speak,” Jonas said, continuing to examine Harry. “I was going to say I don’t know what possessed you two to try something so stupid, but then that wouldn’t be true. I know how much she means to you both (Oh, I’m not so sure, Harry thought), but I’ll take a stab and say she wouldn’t want you killing yourself trying to save her.” Jonas looked at Ron. “How long was he out?”

Ron looked down and didn’t say anything.

“Damn it! I can see it was clearly longer than two hours. How long?”

Ron at least had the class to look Jonas in the eye. “Three. It was only an hour longer-”

“And as you can see, exponentially worse.” He addressed Harry. “You are going to have to stay here a little while. You,” he looked at Ron, “I ought to ban you from visiting either of them.”

“Pull, gone. Spell… ended?” Harry croaked.

Ron interpreted. “Before he went back, Harry said the pull was weakening. He thought it might mean the spell was wearing off. He was afraid if he didn’t bring her back, she might get stuck.”

“And that’s why you two gits didn’t bother calling me, or going for any kind of help first.”

“There didn’t seem to be time.”

Jonas sighed. He held out his wand and moved it over Hermione. “I’m not sensing anything. It seems she’s simply unconscious. Any residue from any spell or charm she may have been under is gone.”

“Why isn’t she awake then?” Ron asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I’m not sure, but I’ve got a theory. I wasn’t getting anywhere researching in wizard texts, so I looked around in some promising Muggle books. They have fascinating theories on astral travel and projection.”

“On what?”

“Astral travel. It’s when a part of you – some say your soul, or spirit – leaves the body, but the body is still alive. That other part of you is tethered to your body, but if that tether should break…”

“Do you think that’s what happened? Is there a way to fix it?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know. I think the spell she was under and the resulting pull Harry sensed had the effect of being a link between Hermione and her body. When the spell ended, that link dissolved. However, that tether – if it exists and those Muggle notions are remotely correct – between her body and spirit should still be there. It’s going to be up to her now to find it and bring herself back.”

Ron’s mind was spinning. “Why don’t we just rennervate her?”

“Until we know more, I don’t want to risk it. I think for now the best thing to do would be to wait.”

How long? Harry wondered before letting himself sink into exhausted oblivion.

~~~~~~~

Hermione felt as though her heart had physically been torn from her body. The shock of finding him, then losing him in rapid succession was too much. She screamed his name over and over, crying so hard she could barely breathe. It was too much. She sank to the floor, curled into a ball by the fire, and knew no more.

~~~~~~~

Harry was allowed to stay in the room with Hermione (the room was magically enlarged and a bed transfigured for Harry), and of course Ron was allowed to visit. Over the next couple of days, Harry stayed in bed, too exhausted and drained to do much but sleep. Hermione’s parents came back and spent as much time as possible by their daughter’s side. Various members of the Weasley family came and went at regular intervals, with Ron staying as long as he could until Molly or Ginny forced him to come home to eat and change clothes. Tonks stopped in with Hermione’s wand. She laid it at Hermione’s side, touching her arm with great tenderness. Tonks let Harry and Ron know that the Order hadn’t been able to come up with any answers on who cast what spell on Hermione.

Harry started to feel better. He would rest during the day, but spend his nights trying unsuccessfully to get back to Hermione. His efforts were draining, and by morning he would be as exhausted as before.

At first, Harry’s lack of progress puzzled everyone. It wasn’t long though before Jonas had a hunch. Perhaps it was years of working as a healer, or maybe just practice trusting his instincts, but Jonas had a feeling Harry was up to something.

One evening, Ginny was the last to leave. Jonas stopped her on the way out, asking her to wait a few minutes. They went to a waiting area around the corner, and about ten minutes later came back to Harry and Hermione’s room. Sure enough, Harry had Hermione’s hands in his, desperately trying to make contact.

Jonas’ voice made Harry jump. “You’ve got two choices, hero. Either leave right now so you can actually recover, or be confined to another room here.”

The look Harry gave Jonas made him surprised the Avada Kadavra curse didn’t shoot out of Harry’s eyes. However, he did grudgingly agree to let Ginny side-along apparate him to the Burrow.

~~~~~~~

Awareness slowly came back to Hermione. She came to on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. There was a moment of confusion before she remembered it wasn’t really the common room. Grief shot through her as the rest of her memories knifed into place. There has got to be a way out of here!

The fire was down to just embers. She grabbed a poker and started prodding the fire back to life. A small brass pot filled with green powder sat next to the hearth. She saw it and stopped what she was doing. It can’t possibly be that simple! She made sure the fire was going well enough, grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the flames and said in a clear voice, “St. Mungo’s, my body!” and stepped into the emerald flames.

~~~~~~~

Ginny apparated them straight to the room Harry had stayed in before. Harry let her lead him to the couch. He didn’t protest when Ginny sat down behind him and began to knead his aching muscles. Her touch was at once firm, yet gentle. He felt the tension in his back and shoulders begin to melt away, and with it, what was left of the slim grip he had on his emotions. He hadn’t acknowledged how close to the edge he’d been all this time. He was truly, thoroughly exhausted, and he let himself tumble over that edge. He felt himself plunge into the depths of frustration and grief; frustration at not being able to keep those he loved safe, and grief for their loss. Hermione… The thought of her cut through him like broken glass. He let his heart bleed for her, and let his tears wash it all away.

Not knowing how it had happened, he found himself gathered in Ginny’s arms. Her hands on him felt soothing and comforting. He turned slightly to look at her. Their eyes locked. Something visceral jolted him. He had her on her back in an instant. There was no thought, just blind need; the need of release, the need to feel alive. He began to give in to the simple human need for comfort, union.

Harry! Hermione’s cry rang out in Harry’s consciousness, a clear call cutting across the noise and chaos of his emotions. He jerked back from Ginny, their breathing ragged, their lips bruised and swollen. She saw Hermione in his eyes. Ginny lifted her chin and set her jaw, her eyes hard. “Go to her, then.”

Harry started to say, “I’m sorry,” but Ginny stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare.” Her voice was low and tight. “Go.”

He gave her a sincerely, deeply apologetic look as he apparated. As soon as he was gone, she let rip with a few spectacular Reductor curses, then sank to the floor with her head in her hands, the taste of him still on her lips.

~~~~~~~

Hermione opened her eyes.

A/N: Hello! I most sincerely never meant to take this long in between updates. I do apologize to everyone who’s been waiting! As always, thanks to everyone who has read this far, and to everyone who’s reviewed. Cheers!

Chapter 5 – The Beginning?

Hermione felt the spell burn her skin as it ripped past. It ricocheted off the stone wall next to her, slamming into Harry. “No!” She screamed as he collapsed against her, taking them both to the ground. Ron, standing only a few feet away, was with them in seconds.

For a very long moment, it seemed to Hermione everything was happening in slow motion. It seemed to take hours just to lift her head. Ron was crouched next to her and Harry, his hand slowly reaching toward them. Not far away, people were beginning to realize something was amiss, and moved with agonizing slowness.

In this state, Hermione’s senses became hyper-acute. She could smell the lingering dust and smoke in the air from curses, hexes, and spells cast mere minutes ago. She could hear the whisper of wood sheathed between silk and skin, as a wand was hidden up the sleeve of a robe. She could feel the cold of the smooth and unforgiving stone floor seeping through her robes, soaking her skin, chilling her. She felt and could almost see the heat leaving Harry’s unconscious body as his system went into shock.

With a jolting abruptness, things reversed themselves and suddenly everything leapt into fast forward. Behind them, Moody was barking orders. DA and Order members rushed to comply. Seemingly within seconds, surviving Death Eaters were rounded up, Voldemort’s smoking remains confirmed his final demise, and the wounded were being tended to. Hermione and Harry were an island of stillness in the blur of activity rushing around them.

“Hermione! Are you alright? What’s happened to Harry?” Ron reached out to them, but jerked his hand back in pain, swearing loudly as some sort of force field leapt to life around Harry. It crackled and spat, arcing angrily around Harry in flashes of blood red, deep violet, and sapphire blue.

Hermione let out a startled yelp, but held onto Harry. She braced herself, but after a confused moment, she realized nothing was happening. She looked at Harry, then at Ron. Too many thoughts collided in her brain at once. Who fired the spell? What was it? What’s wrong with Harry? What happened when Ron tried to touch him? Why is it not happening now? What do we do for Harry? Is he going to be... She stopped herself. She knew he would be alright. It couldn’t be in question. She wouldn’t let it. He could not come this far, not to make it now.

“Hermione? Say something!” Ron’s voice brought Hermione back. She saw the worry plainly on his face. With an effort, she pulled herself together.

“I’m okay.” She looked back down at Harry. “We’ve got to get him to St. Mungo’s.”

From across the chamber, Lupin saw Hermione and Harry on the ground. He started to run to them.

Ron saw Lupin approaching, and said to Hermione, “You go on with Harry. I’ll talk to Lupin, then meet you at St. Mungo’s as soon as I can.”

~~~~~~~

Hermione and Harry arrived in a heap on the floor at the Apparition point in the lobby of St. Mungo’s. Two Healers rushed toward them even before Hermione could call for help. One of them, a petite witch with short dark hair, started to ask what happened.

She was cut off by a yell from her partner, a tall, lanky wizard with short, spiky brown hair. He had pulled out his wand to examine Harry, but as soon as he got within a few inches of him, a bolt of purple arced out, hitting his wand. He dropped it, shaking his still-tingling hand. The dark haired witch picked up his wand and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, then turned to Hermione. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Hermione looked up at the Healer. “He was hit by something just a few minutes ago, but with what I don’t know.”

“We need to get you both up off the floor and out of the lobby before anything else.” He gave Hermione and Harry an assessing look. “Can you levitate him?”

Hermione nodded. She hadn’t let go of Harry since he collapsed against her. She realized she was extremely reluctant to break physical contact with him. However, it seemed necessary for the moment. She carefully extricated herself from him, gently laying him down. She performed the Levitation Charm, leaving Harry hanging limply a few feet above the ground. She tried not to think of how awful he looked as she followed the Healer to the fourth floor (spell damage), with the petite witch bringing up the rear.

~~~~~~~

Soon Harry was settled on a bed in a private room. The Healer wizard was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking intently at Harry. Hermione was at Harry’s side. She laid her hand over his, needing that contact as much as she needed to breathe. Things had happened so quickly. Nothing seemed quite real. Something in the back of Hermione’s head recognized she was in shock herself. She pushed that aside. Harry needs me, she thought.

The Healer witch saw Hermione’s gaze locked on Harry’s face. She spoke to Hermione with a quiet, reassuring voice. “My name is Esther Lightbody, but you can call me Essie.” She smiled warmly. “I know you’re worried about your friend, but we really need to look at that burn on your cheek, sweetie.”

Hermione’s free hand moved to her cheek. She’d forgotten she’d even been hit until Essie had mentioned it. “It can wait,” Hermione said. At that moment all she cared about was Harry.

“I understand, but we can’t wait too long,” Essie said kindly. She started to pat Hermione on the arm, but a bolt of red arced from Hermione to Essie, making both of them jump, with Essie giving a startled squeak.

“Interesting,” the other Healer said. “Not being able to touch either of you is going to make this a lot more difficult.”

Hermione shot him a withering look, which he completely ignored.

“Essie, are you alright?” he asked.

“My heart’s racing, but yes, I’ll do,” she said, then turned to Hermione, “That’s Jonas, by the way. He has no manners.”

Jonas shrugged, looking only slightly abashed. “I would’ve gotten around to introductions eventually.” He gestured to Harry. “It’s pretty obvious who this is. You must be Miss Granger.”

“Hermione, yes.”

“Hermione, can you please tell me what exactly happened?”

Hermione began, “Harry had just defeated Voldemort-”

“That’s wonderful!” Essie interrupted, clapping, practically jumping up and down.

“Yes, quite,” Jonas said.

Hermione looked from Essie to Jonas. She gave a quick shake of her head and continued, “Somebody fired off a spell that grazed me, struck the wall, and ricocheted into Harry. He collapsed against me, and we both fell. Our friend Ron tried to touch us, but some kind of field flared up, as it did when Essie tried to touch me just now. Only instead of just red, it was also purple and blue. I Apparated us here, and that’s it. Harry’s been unconscious the whole time. I think he might be in shock.”

Jonas frowned. “Unfortunately that’s not much to go on, but it’s a start. I definitely don’t like not being able to examine either of you properly. I’d like to try a finite spell on you both.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” said Hermione.

Jonas raised his wand. “Finite!”

There was a bright flash of red, and a loud crack! Essie held her breath and slowly reached for Hermione. She made contact, and nothing happened. Essie smiled. “Well, that’s a relief! Now we can look at that burn.”

Hermione held still for Essie’s examination. While Essie bustled about, Hermione watched Jonas approach Harry. So far she hadn’t been too impressed. Jonas carefully brought his wand closer. A purple bolt shot from Harry to the tip of Jonas’ wand.

Jonas looked disappointed, but not surprised. “Hermione, when Essie’s done there, let’s see what happens if you do the finite on Harry.”

Essie had dabbed some wound-cleaning potion on Hermione’s cheek, followed by burn-healing paste. She then checked the wound by running her wand a few inches above the area. “Wait a mo. Jonas, this is strange. You might want to take a look.” Essie furrowed her brow.

“What is it?” asked Hermione.

Jonas ran his wand a couple of inches above Hermione’s cheek. “Hmm…” He proceeded to scan around her entire body.

Hermione was quickly running out of patience. “Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

“I’d love to,” Jonas said as he finished his scan. “However, I’m not sure. There seems to be some sort of residual magic emanating from your burn, radiating out, surrounding you. I’m betting it’s the same thing that’s affecting Harry. Yours isn’t strong enough to cause a reaction like his, but it’s definitely there. Go ahead and try the finite and hopefully we can start treating Harry.”

Hermione raised her wand, “Finite!”

Nothing happened.

Jonas slowly brought his wand near Harry, just until a bit of purple began to arc. “Damn.” Jonas thought for a moment. “Ok, here’s the plan. You’re the only one who can touch Harry, and he needs treatment, so you’re going to have to be the one to do it. You said you think he’s in shock. I need you to examine him and tell me what you find.” He started to give her instructions, but saw she clearly didn’t need them.

Hermione thanked the powers that be for the Muggle first aid course she’d taken a few summers ago. She began moving her hands over Harry, checking his pulse, listening to his breathing, checking his skin for coolness and clamminess. Jonas watched. He was impressed with her efficiency and deliberateness, but most of all by how she stayed calm while an obviously close friend was injured. He thought she would make a decent healer, if she chose.

Essie leaned over to Jonas and whispered, “What’s she doing?”

“Muggle first aid examination. Even though Muggles and magical people have slightly different physiology, it’s still a good place to start. It covers many of the same things we check with the wave of a wand. It’s really something all healers ought to be taught, just as a backup method. In this case, since she doesn’t know how to scan with a wand, doing it by hand is quicker and more efficient.”

Hermione finished her exam and looked up at Jonas and Essie. “He’s definitely in shock. His skin is cold and clammy, his breathing is shallow, and he’s got a weak and rapid pulse. No obvious broken bones or swelling anywhere. What would you like me to do?”

“We’re going to have to use Muggle treatments, for now. We need to get him stable first, then I can teach you a couple of simple healing spells that should help.” Jonas quickly conjured a blanket, rolled it up, and handed it to Hermione. She placed it under Harry’s feet. Jonas conjured another blanket, which Hermione placed over Harry with obvious tenderness.

Essie watched, fascinated. “Is there anything I can do?”

Jonas answered, “Yes, actually. I need you to get a vial of stabilization serum. In the meantime, I’ll be giving Hermione a crash course in healing spells.”

~~~~~~~

Jonas was extremely pleased with how quickly Hermione picked up the spells. She not only seemed to have a talent for it, but had a work ethic and determination he wished even half the healers he trained had.

Unfortunately, as brilliant and quick a study as Hermione was, Harry wasn’t responding very well. The spells would work wonderfully, but only for short amounts of time. Healing spells were draining to the person casting them, especially if done repeatedly over a lengthy period. Jonas saw that Hermione wasn’t going to be able to keep it up indefinitely. However, it was obvious she’d damn well try.

Essie had come back with the serum. She gave it to Hermione, with instructions on its use. The serum could be dribbled onto a patient’s lips, and then would seep through into the mouth and be absorbed under the tongue. The serum seemed to help a little, but it only really bought a bit of time in between repetitions of the healing spells.

Jonas had hoped the serum and spells would work longer. They needed time to try to figure out what the spell was that hit Harry, and how to reverse it. Until then, they were only treating the symptoms, and not the root cause. It was a temporary fix, at best.

After Hermione had administered a couple of rounds of treatment to Harry, Essie pulled Jonas aside. “She really needs a break.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe you can take her to the lounge around the corner for a few minutes once she’s done another round of spells. He’ll be ok for a little while.”

Essie nodded, and moved to Hermione. “Dearie, you need a little break. At least a cuppa to restore your strength a bit.”

Hermione refused at first, but caved to Essie’s insistence she needed to rest in order to keep her strength up for Harry. Hermione got as far as the door when a bolt of red lanced into her. She gave a startled yell, jumping backwards. The bolt had come from Harry. She rushed back to him, but nothing else happened.

Jonas said, “Hermione, would you mind trying to walk out again? Slowly!” he added.

Hermione did, and when she reached the door, the same thing started to happen.

Essie shook her head. “So you’re the only one who can touch him AND you can’t leave his side.”

“Great,” Jonas muttered to himself. “Essie, we’re going to need extra vials of stabilization serum, as well as a few other things,” he said quietly, and began giving instructions to Essie.

Hermione was exhausted, but her mind was still clear. She knew it wouldn’t be for long though. The adrenalin rush of taking care of Harry had held her up until now. She could feel the effects of that starting to wear off, with the inevitable encroachment of fatigue on its heels. While she could still think clearly, she came up with a plan.

~~~~~~~

Harry had finally done it. Voldemort was obliterated. Harry barely had time for it to even register before he felt the spell slam into him, hurtling him into darkness. He felt as though he were being side-along Apparated against his will. He tried to fight it, but a moment later was unceremoniously dumped head first onto the ground.

The smell of damp earth and cut grass were sharp in his nose. His eyes were watering as a result of his face-plant. He couldn’t see anything, and thought maybe his glasses were broken or had come off. With one hand he felt his face, finding his glasses present and intact. With the other hand, he pushed himself up and looked around. Wherever it was, it was dark and seemed to be night. He stood up, brushing himself off, and surveyed his surroundings.

The only light came from brilliant stars shining sharp and hard in a deeply black sky. A tall hedgerow loomed nearby, stretching several yards to Harry’s left and right. There was a gap in the middle of the hedgerow. It reminded Harry for all the world of the entrance to the maze of the third task of the TriWizard Tournament.

Not again! Harry thought, quickly followed by wondering where he was, how he got there, and how he was going to get out. He tried to Apparate, but instead of the squeezing sensation, he just felt like he was pushing against a solid wall. Annoyed, he picked a direction at random and started to walk.

His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and he could see fairly well. He walked along the hedgerow, trying to see where he was, or if there were any buildings or people (or anything else) around.

He walked for what seemed like several minutes, with only the grass beneath his feet, the hedgerow on his right, and the night sky above. He looked to his left, but saw only grass and sky receding into the darkness. Eventually he came to another opening in the hedgerow. He thought he ought to mark this one somehow, in case there were more. Everything looked exactly the same. He dragged his heel through the grass, digging into the dirt, and made an “X.”

He continued in the same direction for several minutes more. He came up to another opening – with an “X” marked on the ground in front of it. No! Harry thought. He turned around and ran in the opposite direction, only to find himself right back at the very same opening.

You’ve GOT to be kidding me!

Things were starting to get to him. It wasn’t enough that he’d had the toughest year of his life (in a life that certainly was never easy), culminating in the most major confrontation in all of wizarding history. It couldn’t just finally be over. No! He hadn’t realized how frustrated he’d been getting. It wasn’t even just his current predicament. Everything he thought he’d dealt with and gotten past came crashing down on him. It never ends! He let out a yell from the depths of his being, followed by a string of profanity that would have made Ron proud.

He felt marginally better.

It seemed to Harry the only thing to do next was go on through the opening.

He did so, and the sight that greeted him was staggering. It was as if he’d stepped out into space. The grass and hedgerow disappeared, giving way to the dark sky and its piercing stars. Before him was a sphere of practically infinite proportions, with millions upon millions of points of multi-colored lights streaming out from the center in all directions. As he stared at it, he saw that it was rotating very slowly. Upon closer examination, he realized the points of light were actually images, strings of images, all somehow linked to one another, yet branching off in every direction. Different ones came into view as the sphere slowly spun.

Harry picked an image at random, and as he focused on it, it sprang to life. He saw himself, only not quite. It took him a minute to figure out what was different, then it clicked. He had no scar!

The thought boggled Harry’s mind. It had been such an integral part of who he was for so long, he couldn’t imagine what life would be like without it, without having gone through everything that scar brought with it.

Harry reached out toward the image of himself without the scar. Suddenly, he was that Harry, with access to all his memories, and all his thoughts and feelings, and everything that made him who he was.

It was brilliant! It felt like putting on the most comfortable clothing in the world, looking like a million galleons, and feeling every inch of it. He felt so happy and carefree. His life was everything he ever wanted. He had just graduated from Hogwarts, and was slated to become a professional Quidditch player with the Kenmare Kestrels. He was doing what he loved, surrounded by people he loved.

Then something even more wonderful, more amazing, something unimaginably great hit him. His parents were alive.

His mind was flooded with an entire life’s worth of memories of his parents as they raised him. Every birthday, holiday, accomplishment celebrated. Every word of encouragement, every hug and kiss, every moment hummed through his being. It was beyond anything he could have dreamed.

And he realized, it wasn’t really him. The image started to crack and come apart, and Harry was suddenly outside of it, himself again. He was reeling from the experience. He looked around, surrounded by seemingly endless images, all of himself. Still curious, he looked at them, but this time was careful not to get too close.

He saw himself in Slytherin house robes, laughing and joking with none other than Draco Malfoy. That Harry had the same swagger Malfoy did. How revolting, Harry thought. He picked another image and saw something far worse. He saw himself on his knees, pledging his loyalty to Lord Voldemort. Harry felt violently ill. He looked for another image as quickly as possible, and stopped when he caught sight of flaming red hair – flaming Weasley hair.

He smiled as he saw himself with Ginny. The smile faded as he saw they were at Dumbledore’s funeral. He realized it was the moment he was going to tell Ginny they couldn’t be together anymore. Only that didn’t happen. Instead, he said nothing. She slipped her arm around him, and they left together. This particular image had a sort of nimbus around it. Harry noticed other images had light around them, too, but only certain ones here and there. He wondered why. He noticed those images had other ones branching off from them. He followed the chain of images branching off of the one of him and Ginny. That chain showed Ginny helping him hunt for Horcruxes. Farther down, the chain branched again. Down one side, Ginny was safe. Down another, he was horrified to see her killed.

He looked at some of the other “lit” (as he thought of them) images. One was of the moment he first put on the Sorting Hat. Down one chain, he became a Gryffindor, but down the other, a Slytherin. That chain seemed to be connected to the image he saw before of himself chummy with Draco.

Decisions, Harry thought. The lit images were moments he had made decisions that affected the direction his life took. Fascinated, Harry moved through the sphere, looking at all the alternate possibilities depending on what decisions he made, or didn’t make. He became so absorbed by it all, he completely forgot about trying to figure out where he really was, how he got there, or how he was supposed to leave.

~~~~~~~

“We don’t have much time, obviously,” Hermione said. “There isn’t long enough in between Harry’s treatments for me to get any meaningful rest. I think the time would be best spent trying to break the spell cast on Harry and me. In order to do that, I have a couple of requests, one of which is a bit, well, unorthodox.”

Jonas raised his eyebrow. Essie looked worried.

Hermione quickly listed ingredients for a potion that would allow her to function without sleep for at least two or three days. It had the beneficial side effect of being a brain stimulant. It was also highly dangerous, and fairly illegal.

Jonas crossed his arms. “You honestly expect me to sit here and watch you brew something that will more than likely kill you? In case you hadn’t noticed, I do happen to be a Healer.”

Hermione bit back a retort. Instead, she remained calm. “I respect that bringing me those ingredients puts you in a bit of a spot –”

“It’s not that,” Jonas interrupted. He saw before him a young woman barely out of girlhood, who had just been through things he couldn’t even imagine. Now here she was, nearly dead on her feet, literally fighting for her friend’s life. His demeanor softened. “Look, Hermione, I can see where you’re going with this. I agree the sooner we end this spell, the better for both of you. However, that potion is not the answer. I know you’re used to having the weight of the world on your shoulders, but you are by no means alone. And as is happens, I’ve got a plan.”

A/N: There is a scene in this chapter where Hermione refers to something that happened in the movie, “Goblet of Fire,” not the book. I almost always use the books as canon, not the movies, but for the sake of this story, made a small exception.

Chapter 6

Hermione put one hand to her head, and with the other, tried to steady herself against Harry’s bed. Bone deep fatigue was setting in. Things were starting to spin and get dim around the edges. She didn’t think she could fight it much longer. “I don’t feel quite right,” she said, right before passing out.

“This was definitely not part of the plan,” Jonas muttered as Essie magically widened Harry’s bed, and Jonas lifted Hermione’s unconscious form onto it. Jonas looked at the newly enlarged bed, then cocked an eyebrow at Essie. She simply shrugged.

“What are we going to do?” Essie asked. “She was the only one who could touch him, and if he doesn’t get treatment…” Her voice started to tremble.

“I think I know a way around that,” Jonas said. “I just need to quickly double check a couple of things. In the meantime, administer the stabilization serum to Hermione, and do a thorough scan on her.”

Essie nodded as Jonas exited the room.

~~~~~~~

Everything faded away, and Hermione was left with blackness and that dizzying spinning sensation. There was a brilliant flash of red, then sudden stillness. Hermione’s vision cleared, and what she saw took her breath away. The blackness was still there, but it was the blackness of space and sky, now littered with an ocean of shimmering stars. And that was only the beginning.

She gazed upon an infinite sea of multi-colored points of light that coalesced in the center of a galaxy-sized sphere. It rotated ever so slowly, and as it did, Hermione saw the points of light were intricately connected to one another. It made her think of an unimaginably large snowflake. Fascinated, she took a closer look, and realized the multi-colored lights were images. She was stunned to see herself in them.

As she focused on one, it started to move, much like a wizard photo. It was a scene from her life, only not anything from the life she remembered. Instead of a black pointed hat, she was wearing a black mortarboard, graduating from a Muggle university. Another image seemed a bit more familiar. She was at Hogwarts, but instead of sitting with Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, she was sitting with the Ravenclaws, clearly one of them.

Not all the images were so benign. She saw herself and Harry back at the end of the final confrontation with Voldemort. Only this time, Hermione was shocked to see herself hit with the rogue spell instead of Harry. Her first thought was that she would gladly trade places with Harry, to spare him from the spell. However, she saw something she hadn’t expected. As she watched, she saw him by her side, doing everything in his power to revive her. Of course she and Ron and Harry would do the same for one another, whichever one of them was in need. But this was different. There was something in the way he looked at her, touched her. There was a depth to his devotion that stirred something deep within her. She felt a flutter of response, quite unexpectedly.

Hermione pulled back, startled and confused, and then something caught her eye. A nearby image had a halo around it, a sort of glow. At first she couldn’t figure out why. The moment within the halo seemed insignificant. She was sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed at the Burrow, about to wake him. However, she saw two distinct chains of images branching off of that one moment, neither of them being what she remembered experiencing that particular summer before fourth year.

She followed the first one, which veered off to the left. In this course of events, she and Ron became closer. Much closer. They were at the Yule Ball together, dancing and having a marvelous time. Fascinated, Hermione leaned closer to the image, then suddenly found herself in the image, experiencing it as if she were really there.

Memories and emotions of this Hermione flooded her mind. The scholar in her was furiously taking notes, but the other part of her, the part experiencing the Yule Ball, was quite preoccupied with something else. Ron’s arms were around her, his face quite near. His lips met hers, and she ceased to think at all.

Hermione’s pulse quickened as she and Ron kissed. She was quite enjoying it, but something didn’t feel right. There was some sort of dissonance in the back of her mind. Then she remembered. This isn’t really me. In that instant, the image dissolved and Hermione found herself outside of it, back amid the sea of images.

She went back to the “haloed” (as she thought of it) moment, and looked at the chain of images that spun off to the right. She wanted to follow it, but something was holding her back. A suspicion crept into her mind. She distinctly remembered her memory of sitting on Harry’s bed, watching him sleep. At the time, she was trying to sort out her feelings for Harry and Ron. If down that one chain of images was a Hermione with Ron, then down the other would be a Hermione with…

She couldn’t even think his name, for a riot of butterflies erupted in her stomach, with a matching flush in her cheeks. This is ridiculous! Hermione thought. She tried to banish the butterflies by focusing on her discovery: the halo marked that moment as a turning point. She looked around and saw here and there at odd intervals were many, many haloed images. All of them were turning points in her life, and all of them had multiple chains branching off of them.

So maybe, she thought, if I can choose the right moment, I can find Harry, and find our way back. She looked around at the seemingly infinite images, and her heart sank. The enormity of the task was crushing. She took a long, hard look at all the images she could make out, and especially all the chains of events branching off of the haloed images. It hit her that the smallest choice could have insanely far reaching effects, and not just for her, but for everyone around her. Trying to sort them all out was like trying to sort out ripples from raindrops hitting the surface of a lake, with their countless rings overlapping and colliding into one another. What if I choose the wrong one?

She remembered the moment at the Yule Ball with Ron, and how it dissolved because it wasn’t really her. But if I’m free to choose… then it hit her. The past was done. She couldn’t inhabit that past because those decisions had already been made. She had to look to the future, and make her choices there.

In a stunning moment she realized, I’ve already chosen.

~~~~~~~

Harry had lost all track of time. He was fascinated by being able to see, and even experience (if he chose) all the various possibilities. There was one cluster of images he couldn’t help but be drawn to, again and again; those with his parents alive and raising him. It was even better than the Mirror of Erised. With the mirror, he could only look. With these images, he could actually enter them and experience them.

At first he kept getting bounced out of the images. Every time he’d think, “I wish this was my life,” he’d remember himself, and find the image shattering around him. However, he was getting quite good at simply accepting the experience as real. He was able to stay in it longer and longer.

It was bliss beyond belief to not be the famous, “Boy Who Lived.” He was a normal wizard child, surrounded by doting family and close friends.

Unfortunately, there was an aspect of this existence that Harry had never even thought of. It didn’t matter which image Harry chose to inhabit, or how long he stayed in it. At some point, a Darkness would fall over his utopia, no matter how hard Harry tried to find chains of events that avoided it. It came in many forms. In a number of images, Neville Longbottom was “the chosen one.” Harry watched him struggle with it his whole life, the expectations, the pressure. In some, Neville would crack, or worse. In others, Neville would grow powerful and arrogant, and even join the ranks of the Dark Side. Harry kept searching for a path where Neville conquered over Voldemort, but he just couldn’t find one. And the more he searched, the guiltier he felt, knowingly choosing to pass his burden onto someone else.

All I want to do is to have a normal life with my parents. Is that asking so much? Harry wondered. A tiny voice of reason from somewhere within him answered, But at what cost? The worst is over. You’ve succeeded. Why go back now? But I’ve been robbed of a whole lifetime with my parents. You’ve had a terrible past, true, but have you even thought of your future? The future…

Harry realized he’d been so caught up in the past, he hadn’t given a thought to the future. The future had never been something Harry had had the luxury of planning, especially during the last year. Everything was about finding that next Horcrux, surviving the next fight, making it through to the final confrontation. He hadn’t even counted on walking away alive. He was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, if that’s what it took to finally, completely defeat Voldemort.

But here he was now; alive and free. The future stretched out before him with infinite possibility. The notion was staggering.

A whole new constellation of images appeared before him, most of them brightly lit. Endless possible futures were there for the taking. He saw himself in various careers: auror, hit wizard, unspeakable, professor, professional Quidditch player (after all, he was young and his seeker reflexes were as sharp as ever). Farther away, he saw some possible, yet fairly unlikely career choices. Even though it was right before his eyes, he still had a hard time imagining himself being a dragon feeder at Gringotts, or training security trolls.

Another aspect of his future caught his attention. Family. It hadn’t crystallized for him until that moment, but it only made sense that he would want a family. He found himself in front of a cluster of images where he seemed to be at least several years older. In most of them, he seemed to be literally crawling with kids, and from the looks of them, presumably his own. Getting ahead of myself a bit there! The thought of children at this point in his life seemed strange. But then he wondered who he was going to be having these children with.

A new set of images was before him. He expected to see himself with Ginny, which he did in many of them. There were also some random images of himself with various girls he hadn’t even met yet. The chains branching off of those didn’t go very far. Then he saw something that gave him an unexpected jolt. Hermione.

~~~~~~~

Jonas looked at Hermione and Harry, lying side by side on the bed. “You know Essie, having them together like that actually makes this a lot easier.”

“It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” Essie blushed a little and continued, “She’s responded well to the serum, and seems to be stable. However, I’m worried about the magic seeping from that burn on her cheek. I thought it would have lessened as the burn healed, but it hasn’t. If anything, I’d say it might be getting stronger.”

“That might turn out to work to our advantage,” Jonas said.

Essie looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to try something that will work with the link those two have. If it’s successful, then any treatment we give Hermione will also affect, and therefore treat Harry.” Jonas began preparing items on a floating tray near Hermione’s side of the bed.

“That’s amazing!” Essie said. “But I have to ask, where did you get the idea for this type of Healing magic?”

Jonas smiled. “Spent a summer in California interning with a group of American Healers specializing in alternative healing magic.”

“Isn’t that frowned upon by the Healer’s Ethics Committee?” Essie asked.

“Bunch of old sticks in the mud, set in their ways,” answered Jonas. “Right,” he rubbed his hands together. “Essie, I need you to hold that empty phial for me, please.”

Essie held it ready for him, curious what he was going to do.

“This is rather inelegant, but we’re not going for style.” Jonas took a small knife from the floating tray, put it in Hermione’s hand, and wrapped her fingers around it. Holding her fist closed around the knife, Jonas took Hermione’s hand and made a small cut in Harry’s palm.

“Jonas, what are you going?” Essie gasped.

“Trust me,” he said, as he took the knife from Hermione’s fingers. Jonas wiped the knife against the edge of the phial, so a tiny amount of Harry’s blood clung to the inside of it. Jonas took Hermione’s hand and made a cut in her palm to match Harry’s. He placed Hermione’s hand over Harry’s, palm to palm.

Jonas took the phial from Essie. He began adding ingredients: holly, broom, rose, and vervain. He aimed his wand at the phial, and with a quiet, yet strong voice began to incant, “Fire, air, water, and earth, bind with blood, bind to rebirth. What is done to one, is experienced by two, now linked together, by blood and in truth.” Gold, blue, red, and green sparks leapt from the tip of Jonas’ wand, and swirled around the phial. The sparks circled faster and faster, until they blurred together into a ball of bright white light. After a moment, the ball of light faded, revealing inside the phial what looked like liquid light. It shimmered and flowed like a living thing.

Essie’s eyes were round with awe, as Jonas tipped the contents of the phial onto Hermione’s lips. The light spilled into her, then slowly, a glow began to spread all throughout her body. Jonas and Essie watched as the glow traveled down her arm, through her palm, and began to flow through Harry’s palm, up his arm to the rest of his body.

Jonas let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He looked at Essie, who was still a bit dumbstruck. “Now if you wouldn’t mind Essie, giving Miss Granger another dose of stabilization serum?”

~~~~~~~

Hermione. She was there, waiting for him, smiling. Without thought, he was in the image, there with her. Only this time, he didn’t feel as though he was trying on someone else’s life. He felt thoroughly himself, thoroughly real, and quite thoroughly alive. All his senses were humming with a taut electricity.

Hermione was glowing. Harry was sure that if they touched, it would send off sparks. He had to find out.

Hermione saw the light in Harry’s eyes, and the love. It was intense, unspeakably beautiful, and incredibly, hers. She felt as though the fire of the sun ran through her veins.

Everything, every moment, every decision, led to this.

He leaned in, closing his eyes as he tilted his face…

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers.

The decision had been made. Everything else faded away.

~~~~~~~

Harry and Hermione opened their eyes.

A/N: I do solemnly swear the next time I write a multi-chapter story, I will finish it before I even think about posting it, so help me Merlin!

To those of you who have waited forever for this last chapter, my most sincere apologies! I can only plead a Giant-Sized case of Real Life, along with Very Bad Computer Problems (I couldn’t even get it powered up there, for quite a while). However, below is a recap of the Story So Far, so you don’t have to go back and re-read to try to remember what the heck was going on.

As always, my deepest gratitude to everyone who has read this far, and to everyone who has read and reviewed. Everyone has been patient and supportive and wonderful, even through some head-scratching twists! Thank you so much!

And of course, hugs and a special hello to Janie! xoxo!

The Story So Far:

“Finding Our Way” begins immediately after Voldemort’s defeat. Harry is grazed by a rogue spell that Hermione gets the full brunt of. She’s rendered unconscious and taken to St. Mungo’s where Harry and Ron stay by her side. They each hold her hand, but she feels hot to Harry, and cold to Ron. Harry feels pulled by the spell Hermione is under, and follows her into unconsciousness.

Chapter 2 begins from Harry’s point of view. He has traveled to where Hermione’s consciousness has gone. He sees her, and tries to make contact, but can’t. From Hermione’s point of view, she sees Harry, but quickly realizes she can’t make contact with him, either. Soon, Harry is pulled back to his body at St. Mungo’s. What seemed like moments to Harry was hours back at St. Mungo’s. Ron wonders why it is that Harry can feel a pull to Hermione, but he can’t.

In Chapter 3, Harry makes a failed attempt to contact Hermione. The attempt takes a heavy toll, and he wakes up at the Burrow, attended to by Ginny. Harry goes back to St. Mungo’s, where Hermione has been moved to long term care. Ron confesses his love for Hermione to Harry.

Chapter 4 begins with Hermione beginning to be able to control her environment somewhat. She finds a wizard photo album of her heart’s desires, and realizes her love for Harry. Harry finds Hermione, realizes he feels the same, and they finally connect – only to be torn apart again. Harry is back at St. Mungo’s, and Hermione is stranded where she is, out of her body. Harry tries repeatedly to go back to Hermione, but can’t. The efforts completely drain him. He winds up back at the Burrow, where Ginny begins to comfort him. However, Hermione’s mind and heart call out to Harry’s, and he leaves a furious Ginny behind. Hermione has figured out a way back to her body, and the chapter ends with her opening her eyes.

With Chapter 5, we are back at the beginning again, immediately after Voldemort’s demise. Only this time, it is Hermione who is just grazed, and Harry who is hit full on by the rogue spell. Harry is unconscious, and Hermione takes him to St. Mungo’s. Because of the spell, no one can touch Harry except for Hermione, and Hermione is physically unable to leave Harry’s side. Harry needs constant treatment, and Hermione can’t last forever. In Harry’s point of view, he finds himself in a place where alternate realities are displayed for him to see, and even experience. He sees that the realities branch off whenever he makes a decision. He gets distracted by being able to experience what it would have been like to not have lost his parents, and to live a normal life in the wizarding world. Back at St. Mungo’s, Hermione suggests taking a potion that’s the magical equivalent of speed, in order to keep going. Of course the Healers reject this notion, but one of the Healers has a plan.

Chapter 6 begins with Hermione passing out from exhaustion, and from the effects of the spell that has somehow linked her with Harry (in addition to its adverse affects on Harry). Hermione finds herself among the alternate realities, much as Harry was in the previous chapter. Like Harry, she realizes she can experience the alternate realities. In this way, she realizes her feelings for Harry. She also realizes that her choices affect her reality, and that she has already chosen Harry. In the meantime, in his own set of realities, Harry realizes he wants a family with Hermione. Back at St. Mungo’s, the head Healer, Jonas, performs magic that binds Harry and Hermione, so that any treatment given to Hermione will also affect Harry. With their bodies still at St. Mungo’s, Harry and Hermione find one another through their decision to be together. They kiss, and the chapter ends back at St. Mungo’s with both of them opening their eyes.

Excerpt from the end of Chapter 6:

Hermione. She was there, waiting for him, smiling. Without thought, Harry was in the image, there with her. Only this time, he didn’t feel as though he was trying on someone else’s life. He felt thoroughly himself, thoroughly real, and quite thoroughly alive. All his senses were humming with a taut electricity.

Hermione was glowing. Harry was sure that if they touched, it would send off sparks. He had to find out.

Hermione saw the light in Harry’s eyes, and the love. It was intense, unspeakably beautiful, and incredibly, hers. She felt as though the fire of the sun ran through her veins.

Everything, every moment, every decision, led to this.

He leaned in, closing his eyes as he tilted his face…

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers.

The decision had been made. Everything else faded away.

~~~~~~~

Harry and Hermione opened their eyes.

Chapter 7 – Outbreak of Love

The air in the dungeon was with thick with smoke and dust. The moans of the wounded and the scuffles of the last skirmishes were echoing off the stone walls. Harry and Hermione found themselves back to back, wands out, once more at the point in time immediately after Voldemort’s defeat. Before they could even try to make sense of where and when they were, an unnatural silence fell. Hermione recognized a sound she had heard somewhere before. She almost felt rather than heard the whisper of wood brushing past silk. An instant later, all hell broke loose.

Bolts of purple erupted from everywhere at once. The dungeon was thrown into chaos. Death Eaters laughed while DA and Order members tried to take evasive action. Voldemort’s followers took advantage of the confusion and started casting random curses and hexes in every direction. Hermione and Harry ducked, and rolled toward the dungeon’s back wall. Ron and Ginny were close by, covering them, deflecting curses and the purple bolts as best they could. Harry and Hermione quickly cast Shield charms, and wands out, looked for the source of the bolts. Oddly, the bolts seemed to be seeking something. They passed right through everyone regardless of what side they were on, then ricocheted off the nearest hard surface. Harry and Hermione watched as the streaks of purple gathered together, and changed direction – heading right for them.

Suddenly the purple light was drawn away. Bellatrix Lestrange stood over Voldemort’s remains, holding his wand as well as her own. The light was streaking towards her, disappearing into the tips of both wands.

The chaos gave way to an unsettling calm as everyone’s attention was drawn to the scene before them.

Harry sensed Shielding charms spring up around him and Hermione, coming from two or three different directions. He didn’t turn to look, but he guessed it was probably Ron and Ginny, and possibly Lupin, from the way the magic felt.

The last bit of purple was sucked into the wands Bellatrix held. There was a long moment where no one moved, or even dared to breathe. It was as if with one wrong move, everything would shatter.

Bellatrix smiled. “Scared, Potter?”

In that instant, Harry realized he wasn’t. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew there was nothing she could do to harm him, or Hermione.

Harry lowered his wand.

Hermione’s voice in his ear was a strangled whisper. “What are you doing?’

“What are you doing?” Bellatrix aped Hermione in an obscenely girlish voice.

Harry said to Hermione in an undertone, “Don’t do anything.”

Hermione gave a tiny nod of assent. Their lives were in his hands.

Bellatrix laughed. “You’re making this too easy, going down without a fight! Or did you expect mercy?”

Two bolts shot out from the wands Bellatrix’s was holding, instantly hitting Harry and Hermione in their hearts. The bolt that hit Harry was red, Hermione’s blue.

The next few seconds unfolded beyond time’s reach. Hermione began to glow. A brilliant blue light streamed out from within her, surrounding her and Harry in a soft aura that felt like cool mist. At the same time, an intense red light radiated from Harry, surrounding him and Hermione with permeating heat. The blue and red swirled around them, much like oil and water. They did not mix, but rather danced around each other in ebbs and flows. Hermione looked at Harry. The instant their eyes met, the blue and red lights around them pulsed in a blinding flash, leaving them in a temperate purple cocoon.

Everything else ceased to exist for them. There was only Hermione and Harry, in this tiny universe, surrounded by shimmering violet light. A sense of peace flooded them, and for the first time, they had the courage to truly look into each other’s eyes, and see. They reached for each other’s hands, and as their fingers intertwined, everything both of them had gone through came to them in a single moment of knowing. Understanding blossomed, exploded between them in the space of a heartbeat, as they bore witness to each other’s struggles and journeys on a level beyond words, a level at the height of both emotion and intellect. They didn’t merely watch, but rather experienced everything one another had gone through once hit by the rogue spell. As they each relived trying to save each other from the spell, the thought occurred to them both: Sometimes we have to save ourselves before we can save anyone else. In finding our own way back, we found our way to each other. And in saving ourselves, we saved each other.

Hermione smiled, her smile flooding Harry like sunlight. Harry drew Hermione close. His answering smile wrapped around her, strong yet gentle, exactly like his embrace. The intimacy of their hearts and thoughts, combined with their proximity to one another was almost too much. The intensity of it all was an ecstasy dangerously close to pain. Inches apart, they hesitated. There’s something else, Hermione thought.

Harry nodded. He sensed it, too. There was something they needed to do before they could go back. He hated to leave the sanctuary of their own private universe, but if they were to stay, they might never make it back.

Would that be such a bad thing? Harry wondered. You and me, Hermione, and no one else. No responsibilities, no aftermath, no pain-

No family or friends, Hermione thought.

No hurting Ron or Ginny, Harry replied.

They’ll forgive us. Hermione’s thought was soothing, but Harry still felt guilty and a bit apprehensive about facing his best friend and his former girlfriend. Hermione continued, Of course they’ll be hurt and angry – (You do know the Weasley’s, right? Harry interjected.) – but ultimately they’ll see how happy we are, and how right this is. They’ll be happy for us.

Even so, thought Harry, it’ll be ugly in the meantime, and I don’t want to hurt them, especially after everything they’ve done for me.

I know.

There’s something else.

What?

We could stay here. Harry gestured with his hand, and the infinite galaxy of alternate realities appeared before them. We could live a thousand lives, all of them happy and without pain.

Hermione shook her head.

Harry continued. Imagine the things you could learn!

That was something that had occurred to Hermione before, and it did sorely tempt her. However, she couldn’t do it. It’s not real, Harry. You know that. These are illusions, possibilities, things that never came to fruition. The past is done. The future is not. We can make decisions to shape our lives. To stay here would be hiding. What are you hiding from?

Harry shrugged. I don’t know. With Voldemort dead, it’s over I guess. But my parents are still gone. Sirius and Dumbledore are still gone. Ron and Ginny will still be hurt. There will still be Death Eaters trying to pick up where Voldemort left off-

And there will still be us.

Harry smiled. And that, is everything.

Hermione?

Yes?

So how do we get out of here, wherever here is?

At that moment, a pulsating light caught their attention. In the midst of an ugly tangle of realities and decisions, there was an image so dark, the light surrounding it made it look completely black.

Harry and Hermione knew at once they needed to see what was in that image. They approached it, and a chill ran through them both as they saw it was Voldemort. Neither of them had entered an image that wasn’t one of their own realities before. Instead of slipping into their other self, they simply slid into the image much the same as they would into a pensieve memory. However, instead of only viewing what was going on, they had a sense of the thoughts and feelings of the main person involved.

Upon discovering this, Harry pushed down the urge to vomit. I’ve had quite enough of knowing what Voldemort’s thinking and feeling.

I’m sure this will be the last time, Hermione tried to reassure him.

It’d better be!

Harry and Hermione stood and waited as they adjusted to their new environment. They were in a study that was more of a dungeon than a normal room. Everything was dark – the walls, the thick carpets, the furniture, the tapestries (which were embroidered with horrific scenes of violence and suffering). What little light there was came from deep-set, rectangular red windows, and from torches in wall sconces. Both seemed to only add to the gloom.

Voldemort sat at a huge, ornately carved desk. His musings began to filter through to Harry and Hermione. They were both immensely relieved to find the experience more like following a narrative, rather than being directly linked to Voldemort’s mind.

Voldemort’s arrogance would never allow him to believe for an instant that Harry Potter could possibly defeat him, until now. However, with his precious horcruxes destroyed, things had changed. Mortality caused in him a fear so great, so biting, it took every ounce of control he had to keep it at bay, and hide it from his followers. The fear sawed at him like dull razor blades. Those around him didn’t realize Voldemort’s secret. They all thought their Lord immortal, or as good as. This was a belief he was careful to foster. He couldn’t show any chinks in his armor now. So when a plan came to him – a contingency plan – to make sure that even if Potter should somehow do the unthinkable, Voldemort would still have a way to ensure he would take Harry with him. It had to be done subtly though, discreetly. No one must have any notion of the Dark Lord’s vulnerability. He had the perfect plan. He called to his most faithful servant.

“Bella!”

She appeared before him, the hem of her black gown seemed to melt into the shadows, giving her the appearance of floating along like a dementor.

“I want him worse than dead,” Voldemort’s voice was a cold hiss emanating from the shadows.

“Of course, my Lord.” Bellatrix inclined her head, her hair reflecting the dull light seeping through a darkly red window. It made her look as though she’d been anointed in blood. She wondered what Voldemort could possibly think was worse than death. “What is your bidding?”

He motioned with his spider-like hands to a pile of wands. “I have placed a special charm upon these wands. Each of my followers must carry one at all times.” He watched her eyes slide over them. “You included.”

“As you will, my Lord.” She bowed her head slightly, and picked up a wand.

Voldemort continued to watch her. “They’re all the same. You need not do a thing but keep it with you. See that they are distributed.”

Bella wanted to know what the wands did, but knew better than to ask. With a sweeping wave of her wand, the pile of loose wands bound together and followed her out of the room.

Voldemort turned his attention to a large framed piece of what looked like black glass. The surface was highly polished, giving it a shine that almost matched the silver frame surrounding it. At first there was nothing to see. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, the image of the galaxy of realities appeared. Voldemort pointed to a particular image, which enlarged to fill most of the frame. Voldemort cringed as he saw himself defeated. Immediately after, purple bolts erupted from the wands he had charmed, that the Death Eaters now held.

It was Harry and Hermione’s turn to cringe as they watched themselves hit with countless purple bolts. They continued to watch as they saw themselves thrown into the maze of alternate realities. They became ensnared in it, and as they became hopelessly mired in it, they saw something that horrified them both: their bodies, wasting away at St. Mungo’s. Voldemort threw his head back and laughed his sick, cold laughter. “That’s right Potter. Even if you defeat me, you’re doomed to waste away while your soul wanders lost forever!”

Harry and Hermione pulled themselves out. They both felt ill.

Harry shook his head, disgusted with himself. I can’t believe I almost chose to do what Voldemort wanted all along. After everything, he still would have won.

Hermione reached for Harry’s hand. But you didn’t. And he didn’t.

This is dark magic on a level I didn’t think possible – to actually be able to separate people from their souls, and to be lost like that. For that alone, we have to go back and warn everyone. Harry took a deep breath and drew Hermione close. Of course, that’s not the only reason to go back. He smiled.

Hermione smiled back. I should think not!

What I’m wondering, is why the spell didn’t work.

Hermione almost laughed. I would think that was obvious! She waved her hand at all the possible realities, and all the “lit” images that marked their decisions. Free will. Decisions. Us. Love. We decided to fight for each other, to fight our way back. We made the decision to love, which was the strongest one of all, because it wasn’t a conscious decision. It came from our hearts, a place much more powerful than our heads.

It was Harry’s turn to almost laugh. This coming from the original bookworm, the “brightest witch of her age!” Harry became serious. The “power the dark lord knows not.” All this time I thought it was only my mum’s love that was protecting me.

Hermione reached out and softly put her hand on Harry’s cheek. Harry covered her hand with his, and turned his head to kiss her palm. He took her hand and wrapped her arm around his neck. She stepped into him, tilting her face as he brought his lips to hers. As they lost themselves in each other, the alternate realties faded away, and the dungeon formed around them once more. They were oblivious to the stunned looks and scattered wolf whistles from those surrounding them.

Ron shouted, “Get a room already!”

Luna snaked an arm around her boyfriend. “Let them celebrate, Ronald.”

Ginny joined Ron and Luna, looking at Hermione and Harry. “About time, don’t you think?”

Upon hearing these remarks, Harry and Hermione came up for air. “We couldn’t have been that lucky, could we?” Hermione whispered to Harry.

“What do you mean?” Harry whispered back.

Hermione beamed. “I think we’ve landed in a reality where Ron and Ginny are ok with us!”

Harry grinned. “I don’t suppose anything else is different…”

“Let’s not press our luck!” Hermione took Harry’s face in her hands, and picked up their kiss right where they’d left off.