THE NEXT DOOR
Small Things
Chapter Four
Hermione tapped the tip of her quill on a sheet of parchment where she had scribbled copious notes. Where was he? she fumed. Potions had been out for half an hour, she had looked through twenty books already, and Harry still hadn't arrived. Her anger quickly turned to worry as half an hour slipped into forty-five minutes. Finally she heard someone approaching, and she held her breath, waiting.
Harry rounded the corner and immediately, she noticed the sulky expression on his face.
"Harry," she breathed in relief, "where have you been? I was growing worried."
He slumped down into a chair opposite her and groaned audibly. "I've been stuck with a pack of arse-kissing Slytherins. Can you believe this lot?" he whined. "I've helped those slimy gits win five house championships and five Quidditch Cups. Five! Oh, and in case you hadn't heard, we're fifth years, Ron hates me, I've done something horrific to Ginny because she tried to stab me in the eye with a blunt quill in the hallway just now, Malfoy is my best mate, I apparently have an on again-off again relationship with Pansy `Pugface' Parkinson, Sirius was given the Dementor's Kiss in third year, and I have secret plans to kill Voldemort and lead a Dark Army across the world."
Hermione stared at him. Her mouth hung open for a long moment before she chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm afraid I have something yet to add."
"More bad news?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. "I don't know if I can take any more."
"If you want to get out of here, you'll have to hear it," she said in a hushed voice.
"I don't even know where we are or how we got here," Harry said.
"I think I've found the answer," she explained, "or at least part of it."
Harry groaned again. "If you think it will get us out of this alternate dimension of Hell, then by all means, let's hear it."
"I'm glad you said that," Hermione said with a wary smile, "because this is an alternate dimension. At least I think that's what has happened to us. Dr. Kakosovytch must have created a door that would lead whoever entered it into different realities. This particular scenario could have been the outcome if on the night you were sorted, you had chosen to be in Slytherin-"
"-but I didn't."
"Of course you didn't. Not in our reality. But at the very moment you decided to be placed in Gryffindor, in some alternate universe, you also chose to be in Slytherin."
Harry shook his head, slipped his fingers behind his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Let me get this straight, this is what would have happened if I had chosen to be in Slytherin."
"Exactly," Hermione nodded. "It's the small things that sometimes make the biggest impacts on our lives."
"But I didn't choose Slytherin, yet in some alternate dimension of reality a version of me chose Slytherin and that's the reality we're in right now?"
"Yes."
"That's too absurd, Hermione," Harry argued.
"Do you have a better idea?" Hermione asked, perturbed at Harry's lack of trust in her conclusion.
Harry sighed. "Not exactly. My idea was that I'm having a nightmare and any minute now I'll wake up."
Hermione scoffed. "Well, that's loads better than my idea," she said sarcastically.
"Fine," Harry said. "You're probably right. In fact, when are you not? I'll play along. If we're in my Slytherin reality, how to we get back because this world is nutters."
Hermione's face fell. "That's where the problem arises," she said. "I've searched through every book I could find on the subject. And I've found the idea mentioned a few times, but all the entries have pointed to one book."
"And the catch with acquiring that one book is?" Harry asked, knowing Hermione was holding back information.
"It's in the Restricted Section," she said in a rush of breath. "And I need you to ask Snape to get it."
"Snape?!" Harry shouted, and Hermione shushed him quickly. "Are you out of your mind? He hates me."
"He hates the real you," Hermione said. "He doesn't hate Slytherin Harry."
Harry dropped his head onto his folded arms. "I give up," he mumbled. "I would rather fight Voldemort a million times again than ask Snape for a favor."
Hermione reached over and touched Harry's arm. A shiver passed over her features. "You don't mean that," she whispered. "I would never want to live through that again." Harry peered up at her with bright green eyes. "I would ask Snape if I could, you know I would. But he still hates me. If you want to get home, Harry, you'll have to ask. I don't see any other option."
Harry nodded and placed his hand on hers. "I'll ask. Let's say we'll meet here after dinner," Harry replied. "I doubt I'll be able to stomach food while being fawned over by Malfoy, but I'll deal with it for now."
Hermione smirked. "You have to admit that it's nice to have a version of Malfoy who is willing to lick the scum off your shoes."
Harry grinned. "Yeah, it is."
* * * *
Harry tossed out a lame excuse as Malfoy tried to pressure him to sneak out onto the Hogwarts' grounds for a game of pick-up Quidditch in the dark.
"I have to get a book," Harry said, and he watched Draco eye him with suspicion. Harry held out the note on which Professor Snape had scribbled his name. "It's a restricted book," Harry added, and Malfoy's eyebrow rose beneath the pale hair on his forehead.
"Plotting, Potter?" he asked, clearly approving of Harry if he had sinister plans.
Harry sighed. "Keep it to yourself, okay, Malfoy?"
Draco nodded and pushed Crabbe and Goyle toward the doors of the Entrance Hall. Harry hurried for the library and stopped abruptly when he heard someone whispering from behind a suit of armor.
"Hermione?" he asked.
She peered around the armor. "Did you lose him?"
"Thankfully," he answered. Harry pulled a long silvery piece of fabric from beneath this robes. "Dumbledore still gave me the cloak. I found it in my trunk. This way no one will see us. I'll give the note to Madame Pince and then we can study the book in private."
Hermione smiled. "Good thinking."
They entered the library, and Harry agreed to meet Hermione in the adventure section of the stacks. He gave the signed note to Madame Pince, and she held it up to a candle flame as if expecting to prove it a forgery.
"It's the real thing," Harry said impatiently.
Madame Pince huffed and pursed her lips, looking like Aunt Pentunia, and she pushed back from her chair and strode off toward the Restricted Section. Harry followed quickly in tow. When Madame Pince at last found the book in question, she handed it to Harry, and informed him he must return it that same evening. He didn't bother arguing with her, and he set off to find Hermione.
She was seated at a table, but when she saw Harry, she stood and motioned for him to follow. She found an empty back corner of the library where the light was dimmer and the students were not, and she sat down.
"On the floor?" Harry said as he passed the heavy book down to her.
"No one will stumble upon us down here," she said and flipped to the table of contents while Harry pulled out his Invisibility cloak. "Besides if someone sees two chairs pulled out at a table and two voices talking, they'll be suspicious. At least we'll be out of the way here."
Harry sat down beside Hermione and stretched the cloak over their heads. It was a bit like a child's play tent, and they had to sit very close in order for the cloak to cover both of their bodies. Hermione's body felt warm against his, and he shifted uncomfortably as the warmth spread.
"You'll need to be still, Harry," she whispered. "I can't read the book if you keep bumping my arm."
Harry muttered an apology and peered at the book as she scanned the pages. Finally, after what seemed like long minutes of pressing too close to Hermione's warm body, she found what they were looking for her.
"It's just what I thought," Hermione said. "As soon as we get home, I'm going to have Dr. Kakosovytch put up to trial for this. I can't believe he would do such a thing. If the other wizards knew-"
"-Hermione," Harry said, trying to stop Hermione's rant before she continued any longer, "does it say how to get home?"
Hermione sighed and slid her finger along the page as she read. "No," she said. She moved the book into Harry's lap and leaned back into his chest so he could see what she was reading. The sudden shift in closeness halted Harry's breath halfway up his throat. He could smell the scent of her shampoo, and he was instantly distracted by the realization that she was very much a female, and she was very, very close. He cleared his throat, and she turned her face up to his, though her nose knocked into his chin. Harry drew away from her suddenly because the first thought that jumped into his mind was the idea that Hermione was trying to kiss him. He laughed nervously.
"Why are you so jumpy?" she asked innocently. Harry bulleted out a laugh again, and he wished his cheeks didn't feel so hot. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Err….yeah," he said quickly, and pushed improper thoughts of Hermione out of his mind, "what were you saying? How do we get home?"
"There's no definite way home," Hermione said quietly.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that we're dealing with the Dark Arts," she explained. "Dr. Kakosovytch created a Looping Portal. We could spend the next three days going from one possible reality to another based on decisions we've made or we could spend the next three years-"
"-three years?! No way, Hermione," Harry argued. "That's impossible. There has to be an alternative."
"These are the Dark Arts, Harry," she said through a weary sigh. "There is rarely a guarantee of fairness."
"So, what are we supposed to do?"
"Stick together."
Hermione closed the book and shifted away from Harry. The muscles in his shoulders relaxed. He exhaled deeply, and his chest felt cold in her absence. "Is it possible that we could open a door without each other? I mean, can I, say, open the bathroom door and vanish away without you going with me?"
"It's possible."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"What isn't?"
"If it's possible that we could loop through time without each other, then I don't think we should be apart. I think we should be together at all times."
"I don't see how that's possible," Hermione began. "What will we do until we stumble upon the next door? Because honestly, that's all we'll be doing… opening one door and either walking into a room or falling into the next reality. What will we do until then? We can't sleep in the library-"
"-why not?" Harry asked suddenly. "Hermione, this is serious. What if we get separated?"
Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. "I don't know, Harry," she said. "I just don't know."
Harry nodded his head. "I'm hungry. I didn't eat at dinner because watching you laugh and carry on with the Gryffindors made me nauseated to know I was sitting with the Slytherins."
"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized. "I didn't even think how difficult it was for you to be separated from us. At dinner I almost forgot what had happened to us. Though when Ron started cursing your name, it was hard to forget…"
"Go with me to the kitchens, and we'll think of ways to stay together…no matter what."
Harry pulled Hermione to her feet and noticed how small her hand was inside his palm. Her smooth fingers felt soft against the callousness of his own hand. He folded the cloak up, stuffed it into his robes, and wondered about the tingly feeling he felt deep inside his stomach. He chalked it up to hunger, and Hermione followed him as he returned the restricted book to Madame Pince. They walked together for the doors.
"There could be loads of alternate universes out there," Harry said. Hermione nodded and he continued. "Think of all the decisions we've made that have created other realities."
"Millions really," she added thoughtfully.
Harry reached out for the door handle and paused. He wrinkled his brow before saying, "The first reality. That must have been your decision. You must have somewhere in the past altered your course by not choosing Viktor Krum. Because there is a version of you that marries him."
Hermione laughed quietly. "A bit strange, isn't it."
"And the little girl," Harry added. "Elisaveta he called her. He said she was mine…you suppose that means…"
Hermione jerked her head up and looked at Harry. Her cheeks were flushed pink. She could feel her ears warming in embarrassment at the idea of some alternate version of herself in an extremely intimate situation with her best friend.
"Seems as though that would mean if you had chosen Krum…you and I…me…you…she was…that little girl would have been …yours…and mine." Harry glanced at Hermione's blushing cheeks, and once again he felt the tingling deep down in the pit of his stomach. The moment stretched out too long, and he ended it by pulling open the door.
Instantly, they were both aware of falling forward in a spiraling motion. Wind whipped the air from their lips and dried the tears in their eyes. A cyclone's storm ripped them from each other, and Hermione tried to shout out Harry's name as his hand was snatched from her grasp, but she could hear nothing other than the great roaring of the tempest and the terrified pounding of her heart.
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