The Wrath of the Blacks

Harry Potter had never learnt so much in History lessons before.

While Binns droned on about centaur rebellions (it wasn't all goblins), the young wizard had learnt a great deal about his mother from Remus. His charmed notebook was rapidly turning into a copy of Lily Evans: A History. Hermione had been quite delighted with this development, and even stopped her usual admonishments for Harry's class-time (ab)use of the notebooks she had made for him.

Lily Potter had joined the Ministry training program as an Auror, much to James' dismay. She promised to resign if he ever beat her in a best-of-five set of duels. He never did, thanks to her superb use of illusionary charms in one-on-one duels. James was no slouch himself, but it was very hard to beat someone who could convince you that they were standing far from where they were actually standing. Or that the wand you were holding was really a miffed piranha.

Illusions did not, however, work with everyone, or in chaotic battle conditions where your friends were affected by the illusions as much as your enemies. Nor did they work on someone far more magically powerful, like Dumbledore or Voldemort. They did not fool Moody's Mad Eye or Remus' sense of smell. Sirius added that Remus was the only Marauder able to beat Lily. Then again, Remus was the best duellist amongst the Marauders' year at Hogwarts, with the possible exception of Snape.

Illusion charms were also one of the main reasons why Filius Flitwick was a duelling champion. But the quarter-goblin was far more well-rounded in his duelling skills than Lily was.

Harry wondered if Hermione knew about illusion charms.

Lily Evans liked the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, and Bob Marley. She had expressed amazement at the fact that the Bee Gees had families and kids and were not really castratos. She liked Saturday morning cartoons and, while converting James to her great vice, had conveniently forgotten to tell him that they were normally for Muggle children. Once, Remus had been rather amused to find James and Sirius in the library (under James' invisibility cloak for the sake of their bibliophobic reputation) looking up spells that would allow someone to paint a section of wall black to convert it into a door.

Harry wondered if Hermione liked cartoons. He hadn't had the chance to watch many himself. Remus advised him to get a video of old Bugs Bunny stories, since those were aimed at both grown-up and child audiences.

Hermione gingerly flew over the Quidditch pitch, taking great care not to get above two metres in height. Despite her avian Animagus form, broomstick flying remained about as enjoyable as eating chocolate-coated pickles when not pregnant.

She had not yet told Harry or Ron about her owl form, so there were no questions about this apparent paradox. If they had asked, Hermione would have said it was a question of control. She trusted her wings; she did not trust a piece of wood.

Several metres above her, Harry trained. Hovering ten metres over the Quidditch pitch were two charmed cannons (the kind that Ron's favourite team had been named for) that shot out Snitch-sized balls in random directions. This was standard Seeker training equipment, which Madam Hooch had - after four years of nagging Dumbledore and the School Board for funds - managed to procure second hand from a friend of a friend who worked for the Kenmore Kestrels.

A professional level Seeker could catch at least 90 out of every 100 balls shot from them before they hit the ground, while a competent school level Seeker could catch 50. Amongst the Hogwarts Seekers, Harry's average in practice was 80.1, Draco 74.2, Cho 71.9, and the novice Hufflepuff Seeker - a second year named Alice Springs - at a round 60.0. Hermione had, at Harry's request, been told by Viktor Krum that the Bulgarian Seeker's average was 97.5. Harry had, after choking on his pumpkin juice at learning this, decided that he would get to 85 by the end of his fifth year, 90 the next year, and break Krum's mark by the time he finished Hogwarts.

That was when Hermione had added that her penpal used three cannons instead of two.

This had caused Harry to bury his head in his hands, muttering, "Gunga Din, Gunga Din, Gunga Din..."

Hermione had been quite impressed, even if it was a third person reference rather than a second. Then she had told him that Krum's average with three cannons was in the sixties; the 97.5 was his average with two cannons. She had then discovered - to no-one's surprise - that Harry could run a lot faster than she could. He could tickle better too.

While Harry raced overhead (having caught 56 out of 68 balls so far), Ron accompanied Hermione around the pitch. Unlike Hermione, who was gripping her broomstick tightly and staring straight ahead, Ron was lying on the back of his lengthened broomstick.

"Show-off," muttered Hermione. "You've got a bench charm on it, don't you?"

Ron chuckled, and did not bother to deny it. Only balance freaks like Harry and Cho and Katie and Charlie Weasley could sleep on a broomstick without the aid of Charms that created an invisible near-solid platform along the length of the broom. Fortunately, one did not need to be a balance freak to play Quidditch.

He mentioned this to Hermione.

"All you need to play Quidditch is a thick head and an allergy to common sense," she stated stoically as she began taking a corner in a pathetically wide turn. She continued muttering, ranting about the need for cushioning charms on bludgers.

Ron mewed and clawed the air in a perfect impression of Mrs Norris. Hermione pointed out that Harry was male. Ron shrugged and began talking about his work with the war broomsticks. His eldest brothers had, surprisingly, proven extremely helpful in that regard.

"I've sent a few letters to Bill and Charlie about it," said the enthused redhead. "Charlie and one of his mates in Romania are responsible for adding charms to the brooms that they use to fly around the dragons. They've all got heat shield charms on them."

"Really?" asked Hermione, genuinely interested. "I didn't know people added their own charms to broomsticks."

"Most don't," answered Ron. "It's a big scam by the broom companies. Once they've placed the usual cushioning and braking and turning charms on their brooms, they place a million other charms that prevent other people from placing more charms."

"So," mused Hermione, deep in thought and failing to notice that she was now three metres off the ground, "Bill found ways of breaking these charms?"

"Yep!" he said proudly. Curse breaking had its uses.

"Weasley power!" she laughed. "So you won't be the only redhead in your company then?"

Ron hmmmed. He hadn't thought in such corporate terms yet. He was very much in a teenage-project mindset. Hermione smiled, and hoped things would stay like that for as long as possible.

"So Charlie uses heat shield charms," said Hermione. "What else?"

"That's the thing," replied Ron. "He hasn't added anything else, the shields are giving them enough problems. It's hard to maintain a shield when moving."

Hermione was impressed. Normally one didn't learn that until sixth year. And even then it wasn't fully appreciated - the amount of movement a foot soldier had to do in battle was not enough to cause shield charms to suffer much.

"Any ideas?" asked Ron. "I said I'd ask you." He wondered if Hermione knew she now four metres above the ground.

Hermione pondered this.

"Let me think about - eek!"

She suddenly realized just how high she was, and did an excellent impression of a Dutch windmill. Ron was over in a flash; holding her broomstick tight.

A few moments later, the pair was safely on terra firma, with Ron holding Hermione as she shivered with shock. A few seconds later, Harry abandoned his practice and joined them.

"You alright Hermione?" he asked, placing an arm over her other shoulder. "What happened, Ron?" He could see his best male friend struggling to stop laughing.

"I -- I went --- went too high," said Hermione slowly, before burying her head into Harry's shoulders in embarassment. Bewildered, he looked at Ron, who held up four fingers in response. Despite himself, Harry grinned, and quickly cast a silencing spell on Ron so that the redhead could guffaw without fear of Hermione hearing him.

"I'm so silly!" said Hermione, burying her head deeper. "All of my friends can ride brooms like hell and I can't even get ten metres off the ground without pissing myself!"

Harry wished he could cast a silencing spell on himself. Neither he nor Ron were going to tell Hermione how high she actually was. Instead, he patted Hermione's back and mumbled what he hoped were soothing words. ("If you were good at flying, you'd be perfect, not human... you'll get used to it...")

She recovered after a few minutes. Fortunately, Ron had also recovered as well, which allowed Harry to take the silencing spell off of him. By the time Hermione turned her back to look at Ron, he was avidly examining his broomstick. She took a few deep breaths and returned to her regular Advice-giving self.

"Have you talked to Luna yet, Ron?" she asked.

"Loony? No, why?" he replied.

"She's very good at charms. I'm going to see her later today. Would you like me to say something to her?"

"Er," said Ron, confused. "Say, are you trying to set me up with her or something? She's called loony for a reason, you know!"

Harry too, was looking at Hermione with interest. Luna was not the first person he would have thought to pair off with Ron, and was curious to hear what the actual first person he had thought of had to say in response.

Hermione looked around, and muttered a silencing spell that would cover the trio. "Actually, I do know the reason," she said solemnly, "and it's a very good one. It's not my place to tell you this, but - you both need to hear it. Don't go spreading this around, ok?"

Only Harry nodded at once.

"What about Ginny?" asked Ron. "She's Luna's friend, right? Which reminds me, did you two have an argument? She says you've been avoiding her."

Hermione winced, though only Harry noticed.

"It's ... complicated," replied the brunette. "I'll tell you later... maybe."

"Maybe?" asked Ron, in a cooler tone. "What's up, Hermione?"

Harry decided it was time to step in. "Ron, we trust Hermione, right?"

Ron's stance relaxed a bit. "Alright, fine. But I want to know, okay?"

"Neither of us will tell anyone," added Harry. "Ginny included. Now, what's up with Luna?"

"She's an Auravisor," said Hermione once she had put silencing charms up. "She can see magical auras."

Ron's eyes widened. "Blimey!" he exclaimed.

Harry blinked.

"Every magical object has an aura," Hermione began explaining. "Very powerful mages like the Headmaster can see them..."

"I bet it's how he can see through your cloak!" exclaimed Ron, recalling an encounter in Hagrid's hut in their second year.

"That's probably true," said Hermione, a little miffed at the interruption as always. "Other than them, being able to see Auras is even rarer than being a full Metamorphmagus like Tonks. Hogwarts is filled with auras, even the stones have them. Some of the creatures that Luna describes can only be seen by Auravisors like her, which is why they aren't in our usual books. It's like she can see in colour and all of us can see in black and white. Add that to Luna being close to the wrong side of Asperger's..."

"Oh," said Harry. "But seeing Auras sounds like a good thing..." He glanced at Ron, wordlessly asking why the redhead had spoken of it like it was a curse.

"It's not good," replied Ron, internally putting away his questions about what the right side of an asparagus was. "Most Auravisors don't live very long. And the Ministry ... " He looked at Hermione.

"The Ministry uses them as human detectors for anything you can think of," added the witch. "It happens in every country; the difference is how much freedom is given to Auravisors. In Britain, they are treated little better than slaves. They do ... experiments on them, experiments that powerful mages would absolutely refuse to do."

Harry glanced at Ron, who seemed rather shocked by this revelation. He didn't think either of them would be asking about the nature of such experiments.

"I think my parents know about her," said Ron softly. "Her mum used to visit a lot before she was killed in that Potions accident. That was the year before we came here, so --- Luna was nine then. I remember overhearing a meeting where she was crying to Mum about something Luna could see. Mum told us later that Luna had seen a fox killing a rabbit or something."

"Your father knows too?"

"She tells him everything," replied Ron. "It's not like Dad would ever turn Luna over to the Ministry."

Silence.

"It doesn't make sense," said Harry. "You're saying she behaves odd because she can see Auras, right? But that means that other Auraviwhatnots..."

"Auravisors," corrected Hermione.

"Auravisors. Right, other Auravisors would have behaved odd too, right? So the Ministry would look for odd people and - I dunno - test them for Auravisorness, right?"

Ron turned to Hermione with a He's-Got-A-Point look.

Hermione bit her lip. She knew the answer, but it really was a secret that Future Luna had only ever told Hermione, Padma and - perhaps her husband. Even Future Harry had not known.

The truth was that Lucinda Lovegood, Luna's mother, had been working on a Potion to diminish Luna's aura seeing ability so that she would not be enslaved by the Ministry. That Potion had exploded, killing Lucinda. Nine year old Luna had been drawing with her crayons in the lab at the time, far from the explosion. Her skin had come into contact with it, muddling her abilities. Unsurprisingly, the guilt complex had caused Luna to become even more introverted.

"There are different kinds of oddness," Hermione said finally. "If that's a word," she added.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. This was the girl who had kept her Time Turner a secret for nine months; if Hermione Granger decided she wasn't going to say something - like how she knew Luna could see Auras in the first place - persuasion was futile.

"I'm going back to the dorm," said Ron. "Seamus said that his mam sent him a pack of ginger biscuits."

"I thought Seamus hated ginger bikkies?" said Harry with a frown, before slapping his forehead. "Oh. Right. Well, you must go and offer your assistance then."

Ron smirked and cheerily bid farewell before hopping on to his broom and heading for the castle.

Harry and Hermione watched him go in silence.

"That's not the way to the castle doors," said Hermione after a few seconds.

"Dorm windows," said Harry uneasily.

Hermione groaned. "Boys!" she huffed.

Harry could tell her heart wasn't in it, and grinned briefly. Then he remembered what he'd been wanting to ask for a while. "Ginny wanted to know if you were alright."

Hermione's small smile vanished. She should have known this was coming.

Quite frankly, she never wanted to speak to the youngest Weasley again. In the Future that Hermione had come from, Ginevra Molly Weasley had cheated Harry and Hermione into divorce after Draco Malfoy had killed their infant daughter. She had probably also ensured that any letters of reconciliation from each other never got through.... and even managed to marry Harry afterwards. If Ginny could betray her friendship at a time that she was needed most, then she was no better a friend than Peter Pettigrew.

On the other hand, Ginny had not done so yet. And she had expressed remorse and belatedly commited suicide over it. People could not be punished for what they had not done yet. Hermione wanted to push Ginny away. Not Away as in Over-A-Cliff Away, but just ... away. The trouble with this was that that would push lots of other Weasleys away. Hermione had no problem with that, but Harry would.

"What did she do?" asked Harry after Hermione had remained speechless for over minute.

Hermione sighed. "She doesn't go Wormtail on us, if that's what you're wondering about."

Harry's eyes widened. He had never even considered that possibility. Hermione felt a pang for introducing him to its existence.

"You know she still likes you, right?" stated Hermione.

"She does?" asked Harry, bewildered. "I thought she was over it!"

Hermione shook her head.

"Oh," he replied. Despite his monosyllabic answer, he was actually thinking quite hard about his girlfriend's behaviour in connection with Ginny Weasley. "You know, two days ago, when you told me about - you know - you were cold to Ginny in the morning - what happened? Before that, you were friends with her - what wi... what did she do?"

Hermione's eyes widened. In her past world, Harry had not displayed such perceptiveness this early. She knew he was perceptive, as anyone would be if they were brought up in a house where observing the body language of three enemies was a necessity for avoiding additional punishment, but it was still odd to see him using his powers of observation. He was also doing very well in avoiding saying anything that would give her future origins away to any eavesdroppers. She checked to see if her silencing spell was still up. It was, but she renewed it anyway.

"You don't have to tell me everything," he added, watching her carefully as she bit her lip and looked at the ground. "But tell me something. Ginny is our friend, right?"

Hermione's head shot up and she almost spat angrily. Though she restrained herself in time, Harry got the message that no, Ginny Weasley was not a friend of Hermione Granger.

"You said you got a message," said Harry slowly, "about how we were tricked into not being ... friends for three years. Did she -"

Hermione's jaw dropped. She had underestimated Harry. Part of her was kicking herself for doing so, part of her wanted to hug Harry to death for such a magnificent piece of detective work even if it was a guess, and the rest of her was horrified that he was getting so close to the truth.

It wasn't that she had any objection to changing the future; that had already happened. The problem was that Harry had to grow up on his own, and the more she told him of the future, the fewer opportunities he would have to grow up. Or something like that - she wasn't sure. She wondered briefly if this was what Mister Darcy felt like. In any case, how did you tell someone that their friend would break up their marriage? Besides, Ginny didn't hate Harry - she hated Hermione.

She sighed.

She was too tired to fight.

She nodded.

"Should we stop talking to her?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure if he could. Ginny was becoming a good person to hang out with - she had a good sense of humour, and they shared Quidditch team practice. But if Hermione said... even if she did, he was his own person. She said Ginny didn't become a Death Eater...

Hermione shook her head.

"Tell her I got some bad news from home," said Hermione. Harry waited. "Tell her," she continued, "that I had some bad experiences with some girls from home, and it's difficult for me to talk to girls right now."

"But you're going to talk to Luna now," he pointed out.

She cursed. Harry's eyes would have widened, but he'd heard Hermione curse before. Though he wondered why she muttered apologies to herself whenever she used the word 'bitch'.

"Stick with just the first part then. I'll talk to her later. And you just - you just be normal with her, okay?"

Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure what normal was. He suspected it didn't include going clothes shopping with Ginny like they had the previous weekend. Well, that was easy enough. Clothes shopping was scary. He hadn't known there were so many different kinds of socks.

"Oh no!" cried Hermione, looking at her watch. "I've got to go meet Luna!"

"Er, right," said Harry, who still had more things to say.

"Say, one more thing, I almost forgot, can you break Neville's wand?"

"What?" exclaimed Harry, shocked both at the change of subject and the new subject. "Why?"

"It's not his wand. It's his father's. Their magic isn't compatible. He'll work better if he has his own wand."

"Oh," he said, "sure then." She kissed his cheek in thanks and sped off. Harry looked at her, bewildered.

He hadn't asked her if they could go public yet.

And he hadn't showed her the letter he had got from the Ministry that morning. He was wanted to appear again at the Ministry, this time for 'questioning' regarding the murder of Lucius Malfoy. Questioning wasn't a trial, but...

Harry shook his head. He looked down at his broomstick.

"Up!"

Future Dimension

Luna rifled through the files of the Head Unspeakable's office. The current holder of said office was still asleep, thanks to a potion she had applied to his cutlery. She'd been rather surprised that the man had fallen for a such a simple trick, and quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure he was still communing with the hypnogimbles. He was, thank Selene.

Her search through the man's files was not manual, but spell-based. It was an unbelievably useful indexing spell that Padma had invented. Unfortunately, Padma had never documented how it worked before she was killed - all Luna knew was that there was a lot of arithmancy involved - and neither Luna nor Hermione had ever got around to reinventing it. That was the strange thing about spells - once they had been invented and 'stored in Magic' (an arcane process that was the focus of intensive research around the world), no-one needed to know how it worked.

"Gurglus Dimensional Travel"

This lit up too many of the files.

"Gurglus Dimensional Travel Honeycomb"

Four files.

Luna punched her hand in the air.

"You'll want the second thickest file."

Luna froze for a moment, before ducking and firing a Petrificus at the chair behind her. The empty chair. Then she was frozen, lying flat on the floor.

Algernon Croaker walked over to her, and levitated her to the couch. He released the petrification above her shoulders so she could speak.

"If you were searching on information about dimensional travel," he said kindly, "why didn't you just ask?"

Luna said nothing. She was busy trying to figure a way out.

"You kids of the Harry Potter generation," he sighed, shaking his head. "You were failed by the adults in your life so much that the thought of asking us for help has totally vanished as an option. Really, I want to know. Why didn't you ask us for help? We know what Akela was investigating when she disappeared. Who do you think signed the authorization forms when she applied for permission to research the Honeycomb of Infinite Dimensions? We knew that she would try to investigate more than she asked permission to investigate - many Unspeakables do that, it's our nature as curious kids who never grow up. We have two teams working on trying to figure out what happened."

Luna's eyes widened. "What? Why didn't you tell us that?" She was starting to get angry now. "Why didn't you invite me to help?"

Croaker looked at her calculatingly. "We wanted to see what you would do. We hoped you would approach us for help. Which is why I am asking, for the third time, why didn't you?"

Luna blinked. She honestly didn't know. Croaker was on the mark when he said that those of the Potter crowd had given up on Ministry adults a long time ago. Which was, in retrospect, a slight problem since she was effectively a Ministry adult now.

"I was waiting for Romulus to come back from Nepal," she said, referring to Remus Lupin. It wasn't much of an answer, since this was not close to any of the werewolf's areas of expertise. Besides, while he was the only person above fifty whom Potteristas trusted, he spent most of his time outside the British Isles. In a battle against Bellatrix Lestrange, he had been placed in a situation where he effectively had to choose between the lives of Harry and Tonks. He had chosen Harry, and Bella's green spell ended the life of only the second woman Remus had ever loved. Remus immediately charged Bella, knocked her out with a heavy fist, disapparated with her, and returned a week later. He never spoke of what happened to her.

Croaker stared at her. He scratched his short grey beard and adjusted his monocle. He didn't even bother saying that he didn't buy her statement.

"You would have stopped us."

That was more believable. Croaker nodded. "I see. Akela is one of the brightest sparks of your generation. I would have stopped you getting her back. She would be proud of your logic."

"I didn't want to get her in trouble," Luna said weakly. It sounded silly in retrospect. "Have you found anything about Akela?"

"Of course we have," he replied.

Present Dimension

Harry flew high over the rooftops of Hogwarts, thinking about nothing in particular. In other words, he was thinking about everything in general. He wondered idly if this was what Hermione's mind felt like, with thoughts jumping up and down clamouring for attention and beating other thoughts down like schadenfraudic frogs in a pit.

He really needed to work on his analogies.

In any case, now that Hermione Thought had popped up, it was unwilling to go away.

Harry Potter sighed. He shoved aside his thoughts of the Ministry's letter.

She was from the Future. A future where he had, apparently, beaten Voldemort. The girl, the little bossy chit who he had met in a train compartment five years ago, had grown up... and returned. She was a killer, she had killed several people, including Lucius Malfoy and (indirectly) Vernon Dursley ... what on earth had the war done to her?

How many people had Harry killed in the future?

It occurred to him that perhaps Hermione was trying to reduce the number of people they needed to kill eventually by killing key people off early.

Oh, and she loved him.

There was a blip in his peripheral vision. He turned. There was another figure flying around... flying towards him... long black hair, probably female, high cheekbones... Cho. He smiled grimly to himself, realizing that the crush he had had on the second-generation Briton was long gone.

"Hello, Harry," she said uncertainly, drawing up near him.

"Hi, Cho," he replied. He gave her a small grin, or at least tried to.

They remained like that for a minute, hovering silently, wondering what to say. Finally Cho took a deep breath and began speaking.

"I talked to Hermione the other day," said the witch, "or rather, she talked to me." She gulped and stared ahead so he could only see her in profile. "We talked about Cedric..."

Harry winced, and began to apologize.

"Shut up, Harry Potter."

Harry Potter shut up.

"She warned me actually," said Cho, giving him a wry look, "that you felt guilty about it. You shouldn't. He wouldn't blame you. I knew him better than anyone except maybe his mum, and I know he wouldn't blame you."

Harry didn't believe her, but he felt a few weights in his psyche lift regardless. He muttered a thanks or two.

"I wondered if you could do me a favour, though."

Harry looked up at her face, and motioned for her to continue.

"It would be hard - but - I'd like to know how he died. Exactly."

Harry's eyes hardened.

"Please, Harry," begged Cho. "I need to know! You don't know what's it's been like all summer - oh sorry, I guess maybe you do - I'm rambling here - look, if the person you loved more than anything in the world, the person who meant more to you than anything, suddenly got - murdered, wouldn't you want to know everything about how they died? Even if it hurts?"

Harry's eyes widened. He had never thought about that before, partly because he had never thought in terms of loving other people. That wasn't to say he didn't love others; it was just that he didn't think about it much. Except Cho, but that was old hat. But now, if Hermione died...

The horrified look on his face showed that he had never thought about it before. Sure, he knew intellectually that it could happen, but he had never thought about it.

Cho, like most other people, knew that Harry had been seeing his best female friend in a new light of late. She had heard a few Ravenclaw boys groaning about it.

"Do you have a Pensieve?" he asked finally.

Future Dimension

"You are familiar with the Tree of Time Travel?" asked Croaker rhetorically.

Luna didn't bother to nod. She knew he liked to lecture, and she was busy trying to break the petrification spell cast on her. The longer her boss spoke, the more time she had.

"Helga Hufflepuff was a remarkable witch," said Croaker. "Rowena Ravenclaw was undoubtedly the smartest founder, but her personality was rather prickly. Rowena was not a patient witch. She found the concept of team work ludicrous. On the other hand, when you were as smart as her, you didn't need team work."

Luna concentrated on breaking the spell around her chest, since that was where her body magic was strongest. If she could just cause one rip...

"Everyone knows that Helga's Animagus form was a badger. Sheer doggedness, that woman. But Hufflepuffs are team workers, while badgers are not. Ever wondered about that? I'll tell you - her Patronus was a swarm of bees. Individually not much, together they could sting a lion to death.

The petrification spell refused to rip.

"Helga had several students - she and her apprentices discovered more than Rowena ever did. Of course, what they discovered was complementary to what Rowena did; Ravenclaw made the breakthrough, Helga et al did the follow up while Rowena got bored or depressed and moved on to something else."

"Helga married Rodrick Ravenclaw, Rowena's brother. Of course, she didn't change her name - that Muggle custom was still being absorbed in those days, not that any of the old families will admit it. Helga and Rodrick had five daughters..."

Luna remembered why meetings involving both Akela and Croaker sometimes took a tad longer than usual. And that didn't even include their favourite sport of firing down the other's ideas.

"... the oldest of whom were twin daughters Cymbeline Hufflepuff and Catherine Ravenclaw. They apprenticed with their mother and proposed a Theory of Time Travel that was proved correct several centuries later, and developed substantially by various arithmancers in the nineteenth and twentieth century."

Luna gave up on trying to rip the spell near her chest. Instead she took a breather. After a while, she tried flexing her fingers.

"The Time Tree has an infinite number of paths. Each branch of the tree is based on different outcomes of a principal event..."

He's finally getting somewhere, thought Luna. The Dimensional Honeycomb that lay deep within the bowels of the Department of Mysteries was the only known portal in Western Europe to the Time Tree. She wondered if his lecture would include that.

"...like Lily Potter killing Tom Riddle with the Storge Charm in 1981, or of the failed assassination attempt of Grindelwald in 1934 by Beatrice Dumbledore... "

Luna winced in sympathy for her former headmaster. Beatrice was Albus Dumbledore's wife. She was one of a team of Anglo-French assassins whose failed mission to kill the Swiss Dark Wizard in Berlin had led to their immediate execution by his entourage. It had taken eleven years for Albus to finish her job.

She then felt, to her surprise and delight, a slight tingle in her left forefinger.

Speaking of Dumblefore... it was another well kept secret, known only to perhaps a dozen Unspeakables, that Albus Dumbledore was one of those people who had jumped branches of the Time Tree before. It was why he had allowed Harry to grow up with the Dursleys. The Albus Dumbledore Luna had known had jumped to their Dimension from a Future Dimension where he had taken Harry out of the Dursley's abusive care. That Harry, who had no blood protection of his mother's, had been killed in his first year by Voldemort over the Philosopher's Stone. Voldemort had gone on to win, and Albus had barely managed to escape with his life by diving through the Dimensional Honeycomb that Akela had also disappeared through.

"... We know you sent a message to Akela. In case you were wondering, it got through."

Luna breathed a huge sigh of relief. This meant that Hermione, wherever she was, was alive - at least in Spirit. It also meant that Croaker's team knew more than Luna did; perhaps Harry would be able to follow his love sooner than Luna had expected. If it was possible to follow.

"Do you know," asked Luna, "if Akela went to a different branch of the Time Tree?"

"Her body did not survive the journey. We found it incinerated deep inside the Honeycomb."

"Oh!" exclaimed Luna, shocked. This meant that Hermione's magic, though in the top two percent of all witches and wizards, was not strong enough. Hermione's strength was in controlling her magic, not in the strength of the magic itself. That was the forte of wizards like Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle (who both had immense control) and Harry Potter (who had far less control, though he had improved since his Hogwarts days).

"So," mused Luna, "that means that she went to a Dimension that was compatible with our past. But her arrival there would have been a Principal Event, so it would have branched off into another Dimension. Our two Dimensions are no longer compatible. Which means I can't follow her."

Croaker nodded. "Yes. Her soul obviously survived, since otherwise your message to her would not have arrived in her Dimension. Which means her soul has taken over her past self."

Luna winced. There were various ethical issues here, chief of which was whether this meant that Hermione had unwittingly murdered her past self.

"Incidentally," asked Croaker, "have you managed to free your fingers yet?"

Present Dimension

Hermione approached the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. This wasn't the first time she had done so, even in this timeline. She knew several Ravenclaws through Arithmancy, Runes, and Charms projects, but they usually met for group projects in classrooms and the library.

Surprisingly, she had note made any Ravenclaw friends till she had left Hogwarts. It had been one of her great regrets. She had been too dismissive to really befriend Luna until they began working together afterwards, while Padma later told her that the Ravenclaws had mistaken her composed mask - really a defense for her own inherent lack of self confidence - as proud snobby aloofness.

Hermione smiled, remembering the movie night when she had really bonded with Padma and Luna. They had the Patil's house to themselves, since Parvati was on a hot date with some wizard who drove in the Muggle Formula Three championship, and Mr and Mrs Patil were visiting family in India. Mrs Patil was a second generation Muggleborn, which explained why their house had Muggle equipment like televisions and video players. They were watching Casablanca while dipping chocolate sticks in chocolate fondue ... until the choc sticks finished before the fondue did and they had to resort to dipping carrots and celery instead. More fond memories came to mind, of the brown-skinned witch vehemently trying to convince the blonde-haired Pureblood witch that the reason the film was in black and white was because the real Muggle world was really just shades of grey fifty years ago. Luna was having none of it, of course, pointing out that the narglesprites that she could see in Sam's piano were the real reason all the colour had been sucked out of the film...

Hermione hadn't talked to Padma yet. It was too difficult. Padma was the closest friend to Hermione to die during the war, with the possible exception of Sirius. And besides, Hermione didn't have much free time. Brewing Potions in secret in the Room of Requirements and assassinating Death Eaters didn't happen by itself.

Which was why she was currently cursing her timing. The Patil twins were standing at the base of the tower, having a conversation in rapid Gujarati. Or Hindi; it wasn't as if Hermione could tell. She knew they spoke both languages.

Parvati noticed her first, and nudged her twin as her eyes widened.

Padma blinked at the sight of the approaching brunette.

"Hello Hermione," said Padma, "what brings you to this part of town?"

Hermione racked her brains to try and remember what Future Padma had taught her about Gujarati greetings.

"Er - shubh savar, Padma, Parvati," replied Hermione.

The twins, in a rare moment of unison, blinked, grinned, and chuckled simultaneously. "Shubh saandhya, Hermione!" they cried before breaking out into laughter. Padma gave her a quick hug. Parvati, after a quick look of surprise, did so as well.

"Bugger," said Hermione. "I messed up again - I said Good Morning instead of Good Evening, didn't I?"

"Yes," said Parvati, "but you tried!"

"Again?" asked Padma.

Hermione went over what she had said and winced internally. She hoped the twins didn't notice. "We have new neighbours," she quickly said. "They taught me a few phrases over the summer."

Parvati seemed to be about to ask why Hermione hadn't tried to use the phrases before - she did share a dorm with Hermione, after all - so Hermione quickly moved to dodge the question.

"Sorry to bring this up so soon, Padma, but is Luna Lovegood in?"

"Loony?" asked Padma, wondering what Hermione had to do with the odd blonde. Her sister had told her of Hermione's declaration at the Gryffindor table that Luna was 'really smart' and was curious. "Sure, wait a bit." She gave said sister a glance before nodding at Hermione and popping in to the Ravenclaw common room.

Hermione winced as she heard Padma bellowing up the tower, "OY LOVEGOOD! GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE! GRANGER'S ASKING FOR YOU!"

Parvati grinned. "Don't worry, Hermione. It's for the girl's good. Padma tells me her dorm-mates don't like her too much - they take her things and stuff; if people know you talk to her, they might stop."

Hermione frowned. "If people know she's bullied, why don't they stop the bullies? She lost her mum before she got here, for goodness' sake!"

Parvati's eyes widened. "Really?"

Hermione frowned. "You don't know?"

Parvati winced. "Hey, just because I'm ... informed ... "

Hermione chuckled. "Easy, Vati. You're one of my prime sources of information; I'm not knocking that. I mean that the Lovegoods are Purebloods; I thought every Pureblood knew that the Editor of the Quibbler lost his wife five years ago. And since your information network is better than that of most Purebloods..."

Parvati thought for a moment. Hermione's cynical self thought this was an unusual sight. "Yes, I suppose we did know that. It's one thing to have two pieces of information, it's another to add them."

Padma returned, grinning. "She'll be down soon."

"Hermione here was just wondering why no-one stands up for Loony - Luna," said Parvati.

Padma winced. But before she could say anything, Luna turned up at the door, eyes wide.

"Hello, Hermione," said the fourth year. "Have you come to tell me where I can find some Snorkacks?"

Hermione grimaced briefly. She was acutely aware of the Patil's inquiring look. The idea of Hermione Granger believing in Snorkacks... Well, there was only one thing she could do in this game of Hogwarts Witch Politics...

"Yes, Luna, I'm sorry I didn't believe in them before, but I was wrong. I've heard of some new discoveries from," Hermione paused dramatically, and nodded in apology to the Patils. "- from some interesting sources. We'll need your expertise, perhaps your father's too. Coming?"

Luna nodded calmly, and began walking in the direction of the classrooms. She looked back once to nod in thanks to Padma. Hermione quickly bid farewell ("Fari malshun!" - "See you later!") to the Patils and followed her.

Padma looked at their retreating backs before turning expectantly to her sister. They spoke in Gujarati out of habit since no-one else was around. Though, if you asked them afterwards which language they had been using, they would not have been able to remember.

"Hermione's changed," said Parvati, knowing her sister wanted information.

"For the past month or two?" asked Padma. Her twin nodded. "She's been doing that in Runes and Rith too. She doesn't raise her hands so much. It's as if she doesn't care for points any more."

Parvati shook her head. "No, it's not that. She always wanted to prove herself. Now she doesn't. I don't think she feels she needs to prove herself any more."

"Took her a while to figure that out," said Padma.

"McGonagall's not pleased," said the Gryffindor. "Fewer House points for us. Dunno if she has talked to Hermione about it, though."

"How many secrets does she have?" asked Padma after a few seconds of silence. "And for Shiva's sake, sister, fix her pronunciation!"

"You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!" is the last line of the 1892 poem 'Gunga Din' by Rudyard Kipling. I hate poetry (I just don't understand it, unless it's by Roger McGough) but it's a famous line. So when Harry uses the phrase, he's complimenting Krum's better ability as a Seeker.

I hope the Gujarati translations are okay. I realize that spellings with the English alphabet differ.

Suggestions for fan art and appropriate pictures to throw in are welcomed - Portkey allows easy modifications of chapters long after they are first posted.

The letter from the Ministry is the start of the backlash against Hermione's changes. It's not all going to be plain sailing.

If you were Future Harry, and had the choice of following Hermione to a different dimension and staying with your two infant children with a spouse you are now rather angry with, what would you do? Remember that Harry grew up without parents, and that Future Ginny is dead.

My favourite quote in this chapter is "All you need to play Quidditch is a thick head and an allergy to common sense."

The idea of the Weasleys being Broom Hackers is fun too, if I do say so myself. (Which I do.)

As for Gurglus... if Sergey Brin and Larry Page aren't wizards, flame me.

The episode of watching Casablanca while eating fondue remains one of my fondest memories from a visit to York with a bunch of cute chem geeks. Ah, bliss... not a bad movie either.