THE NEXT DOOR
One More, One Less
Chapter Eight
Hermione awoke gasping for breath and shrouded in darkness. She sobbed aloud and pressed her hands to her chest. She felt a desperate separation from her parents, a brutal severance. Grief ripped at her insides, and she doubled over, covered her face with her hands. Her cheeks were wet. Tears, she thought as she struggled to control her breathing. Disorientation fogged her mind, and though she knew she was home, it felt foreign and misaligned.
She was in a bed. That much she knew. But all was dark except for a sliver of light that crept beneath the door and barely reached across the bedroom floor. She swung her legs out of the bed and dangled her feet toward the cold wooden floor. Sorrow once again clutched her body, and she trembled beneath the burden of despair.
"Mum?" she called in a quiet, shaky voice. Her inhaled breath felt ragged in her throat. "Mum! Dad!" she called louder. The desperation in her voice echoed in the empty room. Loneliness, bitter and harsh, swirled around her. She shivered.
The bedroom door opened. Pale light from the hallway spilled into the bedroom. A woman stood in the doorway and hurried toward the bed. She sat beside Hermione and reached for her hands.
"Are you okay, dear?" the woman asked.
Hermione tried to speak, but tears rolled down her cheeks. The woman's hands were warm and filled Hermione's body with comfort.
"I…I…" Hermione stammered as horrid memories rushed through her mind-memories she had never before experienced. It could only mean one thing. "I had a nightmare, Mum."
The woman reached toward a nightstand. She pulled the cord on a lamp, and Hermione blinked in the light as her eyes adjusted. The woman pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed Hermione's wet cheeks.
Hermione took one long look at the woman on her bed and gasped. "You're not my mum-"
The woman's eyes filled with tears, and she pulled Hermione into a hug. "I'm so sorry, dear. I would bring her back if I could. You know I would."
Hermione heard the breaking sorrow in the woman's voice, the utter sincerity of her words. But Hermione trembled in the woman's arms. She pulled away from the embrace.
"You're…you're Lily Potter," Hermione whispered in disbelief. "Harry's mum."
Lily tucked Hermione's curly hair behind her ears. "Can I get you anything? Water?" she asked gently. She dabbed at Hermione's cheeks again, then she held her hands. "Something to eat?"
Hermione shook her head. The feeling of mourning returned. Hermione closed her eyes and whispered, "Where are my parents?" When she opened her eyes, she saw Lily's eyes were pooling with tears and her smile was sad.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Lily said. "I know I'll never be your mother, but I'll be there for you, whatever you need. You've always been like a daughter to us. James always said he wanted a girl, and you've been like the one we never had. Truly you are always welcome here."
"What happened to my parents?" Hermione asked. Her heart told her they were dead. Even in an alternate reality, even though Hermione knew her parents were not really dead, this Hermione was grieving and she could not escape that kind of pain. It became a part of her.
Lily's expression was pained. "Voldemort," she said quietly, as though speaking the name aloud might call forth dark things.
Hermione snapped her head up and stared at Lily. "But that's…that's impossible," Hermione said. "Voldemort is dead. If I'm here and you're here…then…then he's dead because Harry…he couldn't kill Harry…but you and James…"
"Shh," Lily said as she smoothed her hands up and down Hermione's arms. "It's okay, dear. Just relax. It's okay."
"No!" Hermione said forcefully. "I have to know. Voldemort tried to kill you when Harry was a year old. I know he did. What happened? How can he…how are my parents…what year is this?"
Lily looked extremely worried. She was moments away from calling for James or from giving Hermione a sleeping draught. "Hermione, you must calm down. You need to relax."
"Voldemort isn't dead?" Hermione whispered and wiped at more tears.
"No."
"Why?"
"We have been unable to stop him."
"How old am I?" Hermione asked. She hugged her arms to her chest and trembled.
"Hermione-"
"-please. I need to know. I don't understand. I feel…so lost."
"Sixteen."
"And Hogwarts?" Hermione wondered.
"You and Harry are to catch the train tomorrow morning."
"Sixth year?"
"Of course."
Hermione nodded. "My parents? They're…Voldemort killed my parents?"
"Yes."
Again Hermione nodded. She inhaled a shaky breath and dropped back onto the pillow. Tears leaked from her eyes and slid down the sides of her cheeks. She shuddered in sorrow.
"So that's it, huh?" she whispered as she stared at the ceiling. "One more, one less."
Lily patted Hermione's hand. "What do you mean, dear?"
"Harry has his parents," Hermione said as a new wave of sorrow made her squeeze her eyes closed. "And I lost mine. One more set of parents, one less. I know-I know he'll be so pleased," she said, and her voice broke into a million pieces.
* * * *
Harry jerked awake. He was on the couch in a strange living room. His glasses were askew on his face, and he quickly swung his feet onto the floor. He stared across the room at a wall of moving pictures. In the dim light of the lamp on the end table, Harry could see himself in the frames, and he wasn't alone. In most of the photographs he was with either one of his parents or both of them. Something was terribly wrong.
Harry jumped to his feet and promptly lost his balance when his father, James Potter walked into the living room. Harry tipped over and landed harshly on the floor.
James hurried over to him. Harry couldn't stop the shock that stole his breath and his thoughts.
"Careful, son," James said. "Let's get you back on the couch."
Harry allowed James to pull him to his feet and sit him on the couch, and all he could was stare at his father, the living ghost.
At last Harry found his voice. "Dad?"
"What is it, son?" James asked as he sat in an armchair. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Wh-where are we?"
James dropped his hand into his lap and frowned. "You're home."
"Home…" The word felt strange on Harry's tongue. It was an unused, foreign word that rattled around in his brain like marbles. It warmed his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Mum…?"
James thumbed over his shoulder. "She's in the bedroom," he answered, and then his face filled with sadness. "I think Hermione had another nightmare."
"Hermione's here?" Harry asked, and suddenly he remembered he and Hermione had fallen into another reality-a reality where his parents were still alive. Exhilaration gripped him so tightly, he thought his heart would burst.
"Of course," James said. "You brought her back with you. And frankly, I'm glad you did. She was in a right state, not that I blame her, but I think she would have gone mad if you hadn't brought her here to your mother."
Harry's happiness faltered. "Mad? What's wrong with her?"
"Harry…isn't that obvious?" James said, eyeing his son with concern.
Harry shook his head. "I…I don't understand. You and Mum…we're home?"
"Did you knock your head when you fell?" James asked.
"What? No," Harry said quickly. "I…I…what's going on?"
James stood. "I'm going to get Lily," he said. "Stay here."
Harry dropped his head into his hands and tried to slow his heart. It raced in his chest. My parents! he thought. He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips. He heard feet returning down the hallway, and he looked up to see his mother and father, standing together.
"I can't believe it," he mumbled to himself.
"Are you okay?" Lily asked him, and she hurried over to sit next to him on the couch. "You're shaking."
Harry hadn't realized he was trembling, but he was. He held his hands out in front of him and watched his fingers shake. "What's happened?" he asked. "How are you…how are we here?"
"I don't know what you mean, son," Lily said. James sat down in the armchair but he watched Harry warily.
"Where are we?" Harry asked.
"You're home," Lily said. "In Godric's Hollow."
"But Voldemort found you…found us here when I was a year old," Harry said quickly. "Peter told your secret."
Lily's eyes were wide. She passed a glance at James and then looked back to Harry. She touched the back of her hand to Harry's forehead. "James, get the Pepper-up from the cabinet." James stood and walked out of the living room. "Harry, are you feeling okay? Your dad said you fell down. Did you knock your head?"
"No," Harry said. "I-I don't know what's happening."
"I know it's all very confusing," Lily said soothingly. She rubbed Harry's back, and the feeling of comfort she gave was unlike anything he could compare it to. It was unique and yet familiar, as though a mother's touch could always be recognized.
"How did you escape?" Harry asked, and Lily stopped rubbing his back.
"Escape what?"
"Voldemort," Harry continued. "October 31st, 1981. How did you and Dad escape Voldemort?"
"You know this story," Lily said quietly though Harry heard the worry in her voice.
He knew he must sound completely mad to her, but he did not know the things `this' Harry knew. "Tell me again," he asked simply. "Please."
Lily cleared her throat and James brought in the Pepper-up potion. "You wouldn't stop crying," Lily said. "It was Halloween and your father thought you must have been spooked. We tried to get you to sleep, but you refused. Your father and I snuck out of the house for a walk though we knew it was quite dangerous. You wailed and wailed until we stepped out of the house, and within seconds you were quiet and content. We thought it odd," Lily said and reached for James' hand, "but perhaps you knew things we did not. Minutes later, Voldemort burst into our home and finding us gone, he burned it to the ground. We learned later that he kill-" she paused to swallow, "he killed Peter. He thought Peter had lied about our whereabouts. So…that night, you saved us, Harry."
Harry sat for a long while in the silence. He could hardly wrap his brain around the idea that he had saved his parents because when he was a year old he'd had a crying fit. He rubbed his forehead where his scar should have been.
"And Voldemort?" Harry asked because he knew if he had not stopped Voldemort, then… "Is he gone?"
James made a choking noise in his throat. Lily put her hand to Harry's forehead again.
"Is he?" Harry asked. "Is Voldemort gone?"
"No," James answered.
Harry's stomach sank. He felt incredibly happy to be in the same room with his parents who were living and breathing, but the idea that Voldemort had not been stopped filled his heart with darkness. Then, he remembered Hermione.
"And Hermione?" Harry asked. "How is she? What's happened to her?" He stood so quickly that Lily gasped. "Can I see her?"
"Harry," Lily said as she stood up beside her son, "she's had a long day and night."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he maneuvered around his mother and passed his father who had stood from the armchair. "What's wrong with her? Is she down this hallway?"
"Harry," James said sternly, "let her rest."
"Why?" Harry demanded. "What's wrong with her?"
"Your father's right," Lily agreed. "She needs her rest. You cannot imagine what it's like to lose your parents. She has lost them both in one night."
Harry felt as though he'd been knocked full-on in the face with a Bludger. "Her-her parents?" Harry stuttered and reached out to the wall for support. "What do you mean? What's happened to her parents?"
"Harry, don't you remember?" James asked, and Lily wrung her hands, darting her worried green eyes from her husband to her son. "You brought her here. The two of you went out for lunch and when you returned her home, there was nothing left."
"Nothing left?"
"Voldemort," Lily whispered and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "The Dark Mark, Harry. You told us you saw the Dark Mark hovering above her house."
Harry's stomach turned to lead. He dropped his hands to his knees and gulped in air. Lily rushed to his side.
"I'm fine," he said. "I need a minute, that's all." When he finally stood, his parents were watching him, and he shook his head. Then, he strode up the hallway and opened the only closed door. Light from the hallway poured into the bedroom, and he saw someone lying prone in the bed.
"Hermione?" he whispered.
He heard a quiet intake of breath, then its shuddered released. "Harry…" she whispered.
The sadness inside the room was overwhelming. He moved to the bed and sat down. Before he realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her to him. He rubbed his hands up and down her back. She cried softly into his shoulder.
"It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay. It's not real, Hermione. None of this is real. You know that." He felt her nod against his neck. "We'll get home. Somehow, we'll get back to where your parents are still alive, okay? We'll get back. I promise."
"But-but," Hermione cried as she pulled away from Harry so she could look at his face, "but your parents are here." She sagged forward. "I know it isn't real, but the sadness. It's hers but it feels like mine. I keep trying to tell myself this is some alternate place, and we're only here for a little while, but this Hermione grieves so deeply. It's…it's overwhelming." Hermione covered her face in his hands.
Harry reached out for hands and pulled them into her lap, but he didn't let go of her. "It's okay, Hermione," he said softly. "Just keep breathing. It's going to be okay."
"Is this…is this how you feel?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Because your parents…because they aren't…"
Harry wiped at Hermione's wet cheeks. "It's different," Harry said thoughtfully. "The intensity is different. I never knew my parents. I didn't get to love them as you have yours."
Hermione nodded, and Harry saw her sad eyes in the dim light. "But…here you have them. You must feel…happy."
Harry shook his head. He cupped his hands around Hermione's face. "I would never want this reality for the one we know. Yes, I have an unbelievable feeling of joy to see them, to be with them, but this sorrow…I would never trade my sorrow and know you had to endure this in exchange."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, and she threw her arms around his neck again. He could feel her tremble against him, and he thought he would do anything to never have to see her so grief-stricken again. He felt he would do anything to keep her happy, to keep her safe. "I'm so sorry. I feel so selfish. You have your parents here. I should feel grateful for this moment for you."
Harry laughed despite the knot in his throat. "You're not selfish," Harry said. "Maybe you should rest."
"Can you stay in here?" she asked softly. "For a little while?"
"Sure," Harry agreed.
Hermione laid back on the pillow, and Harry crawled into the bed beside her. Hermione scooted close to him and pressed her back against his side. She sighed one last time, and soon he could tell she had fallen asleep. He rolled onto his side and slid up behind her. It felt natural for him to drape his arm over her. It felt like protection. It felt right. In minutes, Harry's restless mind quieted, and he fell asleep.
A bit later, James and Lily stood in the doorway of the bedroom. They saw the two teenagers asleep in the bed, Harry's arm pulling Hermione close to him.
"They shouldn't be in the same bed," James said with a frown.
Lily sighed. "They've had a hard day."
"Her mother would never agree to this."
"We're her parents now, James," Lily said sadly.
"I know," he said. "And I know what sixteen year old boys think about when they lay in beds with girls."
"Do you now?" Lily said with a hint of playfulness in her voice.
James' cheeks reddened slightly. "Well…I…"
"Just because you were a walking hormone doesn't mean your son is the same."
"All boys are the same!" James protested.
"They're sleeping, James."
"But they're…they're not even dating."
"Not yet," Lily said wistfully.
James sighed. "Fine," he said reluctantly.
"Let them have a moment of peace," she said. "We all need a moment of peace now and then. Especially now."
James pulled Lily into an embrace, and he smoothed his hand down her hair. She sighed into his shoulder. "You're right," he whispered. "As always."
The Potters stood embracing in the hallway and hanging on to their brief moment of respite in a world troubled by dark days, and Harry and Hermione slept unaware of how dark the world had become in this alternate reality where James and Lily Potter had not yet died and Voldemort was very much alive.
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