Five hours later, Harry was sitting up on the bed, facing Hermione, who was working at the desk near the window. Harry was trying his best to stay awake, but his eyes kept drooping closed. It was during one of those brief respites, when he was enjoying the comforting feeling of his eyelids against his tired, strained eyes, when Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts. "You can sleep, Harry. You don't need to wait up for me."
He opened his eyes quickly, then sighed and looked over at the clock on the bedside table. 2:14am. Harry's eyes slowly drifted to the shoebox and trunk to his left. He'd found the shoebox in the closet when he'd been searching for details about his life in this world. It contained countless photos that seemed to go from his first year at Hogwarts, until now. He hadn't taken time to look through them, though, since by the time he was finished searching the flat, he was too tired. He figured he'd have plenty of time on their trip.
Under the shoebox was a trunk filled with clothes and other supplies for the trip. Harry was relieved the other version of himself had already packed and saved him from the chore, which would have been difficult since he didn't really know where they were going.
He'd tried asking Hermione for more details about the Seven Wonders, but she kept shushing him, saying she needed to focus. All he knew was the brief overview she'd given at dinner. Harry settled back against the headboard as he inwardly thanked the other Hermione. He knew she was behind the early packing, since if it had been up to him—assuming he and this other Harry had the same general tendencies—he'd have left the chore until the last minute.
"How much longer do you think you need?" he asked her.
Hermione shrugged as she kept her eyes on the stack of parchment in front of her. He had no idea how she was managing to stay so focused. He was completely drained. Physically, emotionally, mentally, all of it. He couldn't fathom reading through endless notes. He couldn't even manage the photos.
"I'm probably going to be at this all night. We need to catch our Portkey at ten so that doesn't give me much time to memorize all the notes the other Hermione made. From what I can gather, she was planning this trip for almost six months. So… there's a lot. I also need to set aside time in the morning to go through the items the other Harry and Hermione packed to make sure they got everything."
"Why don't you just focus on the first destination and take the rest of the notes with you? And I can crossreference the items in the trunk with the list she made tomorrow morning. Don't worry about that."
"Yeah, that'll help. Thanks." She made no move to leave the desk.
"Hermione. Did you hear me? Just focus on the first destination and take the time now to sleep."
"I heard you but I—I won't be able to sleep, even if I tried. We're charging into the unknown and this is how I cope, by gathering as much information as possible. You cope by being well-rested. Go to sleep, really, I won't be offended."
"So, you're just not going to sleep?"
She shrugged. "I've skipped nights of sleep before. I'll just take a Stamina Potion if I need it."
Harry cringed. "Ugh. Those are awful. They work fine at first, then make you crash without warning."
Hermione turned the page and began reading the next one. "I know a way to stave off the crash for up to twelve hours."
Harry rolled his eyes. Of course she did. "Why don't you Unspeakables share all the useful spells you know?"
"I've told you before, Harry. There's a rigorous testing process every new spell must go through before it's released to the public. The testing for this one is underway and should be finished by the end of the year."
Harry watched her for a few more moments, marveling again at how focused she was. Hermione really was one of the most remarkable people he'd ever met, if not the most remarkable. Because of her, he'd had dinner with his parents a few hours ago and would be spending the next two weeks getting to know them. He just wished this trip wasn't so stressful for her.
"Hermione I—"
She looked up and said snippily, "If you apologize again, I'm going to hex you. Stop bothering me, sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."
Harry sighed but decided to listen to her. There clearly wasn't anything he could do to help her. He'd have to find a way to make it up to her later. He put his glasses on the bedside table to the left of the bed and began pulling the covers down. He paused.
"Do you have a side of the bed?" he asked her.
"Right. When you're lying in bed, not when you're facing it."
"Oh. Mine's the left."
Hermione nodded and said distantly, "I think it's the same for this Harry and Hermione. See the books on the right side? Clearly mine, or hers, I guess."
Harry looked over at the books. She was right. That looked like Hermione's side. When had she noticed that? She was so much more observant than he remembered. He guessed that was part of her job. He knew he shouldn't be surprised by her—especially after the events of the past eight hours—but it was strange, reconciling this new Hermione with the one he'd known from school. He was disappointed that she'd changed so much without him noticing. Had Ron noticed? Probably, but he hadn't said anything to Harry about it.
"That's convenient," Harry announced as he got under the covers, "that we're on different sides of the bed, I mean."
"I guess we're not engaged in this world for nothing," she said absently, then, a little harsher, "Now please, shut up."
Harry nodded, more than happy to oblige now that he was in the comfortable bed with the covers pulled up. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Hermione scratching a quill on the parchment and the occasional swish when she turned a page. It was oddly comforting listening to her work and a few moments later, he drifted off to sleep.
Day One
The following day—or, more accurately, later that same day—Harry and Hermione returned to Godric's Hollow to meet his parents before their ten o'clock Portkey. Harry hugged his parents fervently again and could tell they were a little surprised, which made sense. It's not like Ron or Ginny were constantly hugging their parents. But Harry had to fit a lifetime of knowing them into just two weeks, so he was willing to push the limits a bit.
"Are you all packed?" Hermione asked, giving Harry a knowing look which he knew meant, "Get it together, Harry, and lay off on the hugging."
James and Lily both nodded. "We followed your list as if our lives depended on it," James teased. "We especially liked the day-by-day guide of exactly what to wear." He motioned toward his body, showing off his choice of outfit.
Hermione ignored him and cocked her head toward two backpacks on the ground. "So those backpacks have your trunks in them? Shrunken and lightened?"
"Yes, Ma'am," James replied dutifully before winking at Harry.
"With a water bottle, rope, jacket, and broom on the outside of the trunk, so they're easily accessible?"
"Yes," Lily chimed in. "But only James's has the broom and only mine has the rope, as instructed."
Hermione nodded and looked down at her list. She created a flame in her hand and burned the list, shaking the ashes off her palm when the list was gone.
"Whoa," James murmured. "That was dramatic."
Hermione blushed. "Oh, right. Sorry."
Harry smirked. It appeared the Hermione from this world didn't perform complicated, over-the-top spells for no reason. He gave her a look that said, "Get it together, Hermione, and lay off on the dramatic spells," which earned him a large eye roll.
"Okay." Hermione reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a small object wrapped in a handkerchief. "Put your packs on and gather around. The Portkey will activate in two minutes."
"A private Portkey? How luxurious," Lily commented as she stood next to Hermione and placed her hand on the gold key resting in the handkerchief.
"We have Harry to thank for this," Hermione said.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise but he tried to hide it quickly. Hermione kept speaking in a rush, obviously in an effort to draw his parents' gaze away from him. "We'll have private Portkeys for the whole trip. One of Harry's students is the son of the wizard who runs the Portkey office. The man loves Harry and when he heard about our trip, offered to help in any way he could. He was surprised when we asked for nine private Portkeys, but he was a good sport about it."
"Wow. Good job, Harry," James said. Harry just nodded.
"Come on," Hermione said, nodding her head at James and Harry. "Hands on the key. We only have about thirty seconds."
"Where are we going?" James asked.
"France," Hermione replied.
"Oh. How...exotic."
Before Hermione could retort, the Portkey activated and Hermione felt that familiar pull behind her navel. They reappeared in the clearing of a forest, each stumbling slightly, but managing to stay upright.
Harry looked around while Hermione took a leather envelope out of her bag and untied it to reveal a long leather case with nine slots. She returned the key they'd just used to the first slot and tied the holder closed again. Lily was watching her curiously.
"What's the ninth Portkey for?" she asked after Hermione had returned the Portkeys to her bag. "By my count, we only need eight."
Hermione nodded. "The primary eight Portkeys we need for the trip are time-activated. I requested an extra that's touch-activated, in case of an emergency. It'll take anyone who touches it right back to your sitting room. It's in the last slot, if you ever need it and I'm not in a position to activate it myself. Which reminds me—"
Hermione turned to James and Harry and said louder, "We need to take a moment to discuss our safety protocols. I've just told Lily, but there is a touch-activated Portkey in the leather envelope in the outermost pocket of my bag. It's in the last slot. Also, I have these." She reached into her bag and pulled out four coins. Harry recognized them instantly as the fake Galleons she'd used in Fifth Year to send messages to the members of the DA.
As she explained how the coins worked, Harry could tell his parents were struggling not to laugh. He wondered if the Hermione in this world was less intense than this Hermione. He also wondered how well his parents knew Hermione. They seemed to be comfortable with her, but what occasion would they have had to get to know her if Harry hadn't been talking to them for the past few years?
"We're currently in the Enchanted Forest," Hermione was saying, oblivious to the looks of mirth Harry's parents were exchanging, "one of the most dangerous places in the world."
That got James and Lily's attention. Harry's too. "What?" he asked. "Why are we here, then?"
"Yeah. I'd like to second that question," James added.
She gave them a dismissive wave. "One of the Seven Wonders of the world, the largest fairy colony, is in this forest," she explained. "That's why we're here. And we'll be fine, as long as we remain vigilant. Don't eat anything in the forest, and I mean anything, unless I've approved it. Don't go anywhere near the west side, where the centaur wars are currently raging. Keep your coin on you at all times, and don't go off alone."
Everyone was silent. James, Lily, and Harry exchanged concerned glances before looking back at Hermione. "Okay," she said, clapping her hands together. "Those are all the safety rules I have for now. I'll let you know if something else pops into my mind."
She turned toward the path behind them but James caught her arm. "Hermione. We really appreciate all the work you've put into this so far, but can I make one more request?"
Hermione gave him an exasperated look. Harry could see the exhaustion in her eyes and knew she was extra snippy when she was tired. Hopefully she wouldn't bite his dad's head off. "What do you need?"
James placed his hands on her arms and said seriously, "I need you to relax. We're on holiday, Hermione, and the amount of stress you're exuding is putting me on edge. I can't even imagine what it's doing to you. So, take a deep breath." He paused and waited for her to listen to him.
She sighed, then took a deep breath, as instructed.
"Okay. That wasn't so bad, was it? Another, please." James winked at Harry and Lily over Hermione's shoulder.
After Hermione took another begrudging breath, James let go of her. "You've done a great job setting this all up and now it's time to enjoy it. Okay?"
"Fine," she grumbled.
Harry went to her side and threw an arm around her. "He's right. You've been brilliant."
Harry was beaming, his eyes bright with anticipation, and the sight of him looking so giddy, more than any of James's words, made Hermione start to relax. She reminded herself why she was here, why she'd agreed to this insane plan—that had a high likelihood of ending in disaster)—as she leaned into Harry. "Thanks."
He gave her a final squeeze before stepping back and asking, "So, what are we doing today?"
Hermione gave him a slightly guilty look before saying, "Hiking."
Harry's face fell. "All day?"
"We have to go eight miles. When you take into consideration that the average person can traverse two miles per hour and account for breaks, we should be at our destination by mid-afternoon. So technically, no. Not all day."
"Eight miles?"
Hermione shrugged. "That's what the plan says."
Lily was at Harry's side now and nudged his arm. "Since when do you have a problem with hiking?"
Since I was forced to hike aimlessly around the countryside for months with no food, fearing I was going to be discovered and killed at any moment. Harry just shrugged.
"We had a bad hiking experience earlier this summer," Hermione chimed in. "We ate some berries we shouldn't have and were vomiting for three days afterward." She turned and smirked at Harry before marching toward the path that led to the depths of the forest.
"That sounds awful," Lily said as she walked with Harry after Hermione, James following behind them.
"Yeah, it was," Harry affirmed.
Now that there was nothing to do but talk as they hiked through the forest, Harry began to panic. There was no way his parents were going to believe he was their son. But they did okay. In large part, thanks to Hermione. She started by chattering on and on about everything she'd learned about the Enchanted Forest, even stopping to point out rare sights and creatures along the way.
After gaping at a herd of unicorns under a floating waterfall, they stopped for a break to eat lunch. Harry sat next to Hermione on a large rock and leaned in to ask, "You studied all of that last night?"
"I thought we'd need something to talk about."
"You're incredible."
She responded with a shy smile before taking a bite of her sandwich.
After lunch, Hermione ran out of facts and it was time for Harry to take over the conversation. His parents kept peppering him with questions about his life, from his job to the holiday that had taken Hermione and him to the forest with the berries. Harry kept a commentary about his fake life going as best he could. Luckily, he wasn't completely out of his depth.
He'd done undercover work as an Auror and knew the key to lying in these situations was to speak without hesitation, stick as close to your real life as you could, and not use too many details in your stories.
But when the topic turned to Harry and Hermione's wedding, he faltered. His mum had asked how the wedding planning was going and he had been about to talk about his and Ginny's wedding planned to take place at the Burrow when he caught himself.
"What?" Lily asked, stopping on the path. "Don't tell me you're already married and we missed it."
"We haven't done any wedding planning," Hermione cut in, taking Harry's hand and linking their fingers together. "We were waiting to mend things with the two of you."
Lily and James shared a glance, then Lily reached forward and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "That's sweet. Thanks."
"Actually," Hermione continued, "I don't think I've ever heard about your wedding." She hoped this was true but thought it was probably a safe bet. "Or your engagement," she added.
"Oh," James said as he continued walking up the path. "Harry's heard those stories a hundred times. Maybe he should tell you."
"You tell her," Harry said quickly. "I've been talking for hours. And I don't mind hearing them again."
James wrapped an arm around Lily and kissed the side of her head. "What do you say, Lily? Should I start at the beginning? Give Hermione the complete story?"
"How far back?"
"Seventh year. Which started with you hating me."
She smiled, then looked at Hermione. "Are you sure you want this? Once he gets going, there's no stopping him."
"Go on, James," Hermione said, turning to give Harry a discreet wink. "And don't leave out any details."
Harry couldn't believe he was about to hear the full story of how his parents got together, engaged, and then married, straight from his dad. And these details should apply in his world too, since according to Hermione, the two worlds didn't diverge until Voldemort chose to kill Neville instead of him.
He lifted his and Hermione's hands, which were still clasped, and kissed her knuckles. "You're brilliant," he murmured.
"So I've heard."
A few hours later, Hermione told everyone to stop so she could check their coordinates. She cast a few spells, then declared that they had arrived at their campsite.
"You had coordinates the whole time?" James asked. "Why didn't we just Apparate here?"
"Because then we would have missed out on this lovely hike, James," Lily said warningly.
"We could have flown," Harry chimed in, which earned him a fierce scowl from Hermione.
"I read something that said to truly experience the Enchanted Forest, you need to spend time in the Enchanted Forest. Hence, the hike," Hermione bit back, defensively.
"I loved it, Hermione. Don't listen to the boys." Lily linked her arm in Hermione's and started walking with her to the other side of the clearing. "Let's find a spot for the tent, then make them set it up as punishment for being so whiny." Hermione couldn't help but smile. It was clear where Harry got his peacekeeper tendencies.
After the tent was set up, which was, thankfully, loads nicer than the tent they'd used during their camping during the war, Harry came to apologize to Hermione. "Sorry about earlier. I really liked the hike."
She could tell by his expression that he meant it. "I was just following the plan. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be camping in a tent for the next two weeks, no matter how nice it is."
He smiled. "It seems like whoever planned this trip didn't make a pact to never, ever, go camping again."
"Clearly not." She returned his smile as she recalled the pact they'd made. There had even been a special handshake that went along with it, but she didn't remember it anymore.
Harry leaned in and placed a quick peck on her lips. "You didn't flinch that time," he said as he pulled away.
"I take feedback well."
"Noted," he said before leaning in to place another kiss on the side of her mouth, just for good measure.
Later that night, Harry and Hermione were lounging on the bed they'd be sharing for the next thirteen nights. Hermione was sitting on the right side of the bed with her knees pulled up, studying one of the other Hermione's planners and trying to glean as much information about the other witch's life as she could. Harry was lying on his stomach at the edge of the bed, looking through the box of photos he'd brought from the flat.
The box was a mess. It looked like the other Harry was just as organized as Harry, which was to say, not at all. It appeared that as soon as he developed a new photo, he just tossed it in the box. So, there was sort of an organization system, in that the photos on the bottom were older and the ones on the top were newer, but that wasn't much to go on.
Luckily, Hermione knew a spell to reveal the date each photo was developed. By now, Harry had ceased being surprised by her wealth of knowledge. He was coming to expect her to have a spell to solve every problem they encountered on this trip.
This time, the spell was a public one, so she said he should have known it. He was about to ask when in his busy life, between his demanding job, wedding planning with Ginny, and renovating Grimmauld Place, he was supposed to set aside time to learn random spells, but decided against it.
Hermione was exhausted, all because of him, and it wouldn't be fair to snap at her. With his head full of thoughts of how stressed Hermione was, he came across a photo near the top of the box that made him pause.
It was Hermione, the other one, sitting on a corner bench in a dimly lit room with her knees pulled up, calmly stirring a potion in a large, silver cauldron. She looked so serene and, frankly, beautiful. Her hair was billowing down her shoulders in loose curls, her face was lit up by the golden gleam of the potion, and there was a faint smile playing across her lips, like she was recalling a happy memory.
Then, right at the end of the loop, she looked up at the person holding the camera and gave them a breathtaking smile. She lifted a hand to her lips and blew a kiss before focusing back on the contents of the cauldron.
Harry had seen Hermione brew potions before. She never looked this calm. Actually, he couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen her this calm. Maybe when she was reading. He looked up to study the real Hermione, who was currently reading the other Hermione's journal, but she didn't look relaxed at all. Her shoulders were tense and her brow was furrowed.
He studied the calm, beautiful Hermione for another few moments before flipping to another photo. There were a few of Harry and Hermione with some friends in various locations: the pub, a holiday house, even in Hogsmeade for what looked like some sort of reunion. In all of them, Harry had his arm lazily draped over Hermione's shoulders. One of them would usually turn to the other and smile, or lean in for a quick kiss.
It was a lot to take in. He was about to put the photos away for the night when one of them caught his eye. It was a photo of the other Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Dean, Lavender, and Ginny, standing in front of a beach house. This was the first time he'd seen Ginny in any of his photos. He smiled. She looked the same as she did in his world.
He flipped to the next photo, which nearly took his breath away. This one looked like it was taken at the same beach house, but from the inside. It was just him and Hermione. She was standing by an open doorway in a black bathing suit, looking out at the beach. He was standing just behind her in his swim trunks, looking out at the same beach with a hand on her waist.
He kissed her neck, which was exposed since she had her hair up, then whispered something in her ear before nibbling her earlobe. She turned to him and gave him an adoring smile before grabbing his chin and kissing him ardently.
The image caused something deep in Harry to reverberate. He felt extremely uncomfortable but couldn't draw his eyes away. He must have watched the loop ten times before Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts.
He quickly flipped to the next photo. "Uh… what?"
"I said I'm about to crash from the Stamina Potion I had earlier." She had risen from the bed and was stretching her hands over her head. "Did you find anything useful?" She leaned forward to look at the photo in Harry's hand. It was one of him standing in front of the Quidditch shop he worked at with an arm around a boy around five years old with red hair. Harry wondered if he was related to the Weasleys.
"Not, uh, yet," Harry said, trying to recover from the odd feeling from before.
"What's wrong?" She was searching his face. Even in a haze of exhaustion, she could tell something was off with him.
"I've been thinking about my job in this world and I—um—" he searched around for something to say. "I guess I've been trying to figure out why I became an Auror in the first place." This was true. He had been thinking this, just not now. He'd been thinking about it earlier, during their hike.
Hermione simply hummed. She started climbing under the covers while Harry returned the photos to the box and went to settle into his side of the bed. Hermione lifted her wand to turn off the lights, but stopped with her wand in the air and said to the canvas ceiling of the tent. "I have a theory about that."
"What?"
She lowered her wand and turned to face him. "About why you became an Auror. Do you want to hear it?"
"Sure."
"Really? You may not like it."
Harry shrugged. "Go ahead." How bad could it be?
She turned onto her back so she was facing the ceiling. "I think you have a very low self-esteem, for obvious reasons, and that you became an Auror because fighting Dark Wizards is something people have always told you you're good at. You get a lot of praise for it and that's why you do it but honestly, I've always been a bit disappointed that you went into that line of work. I think you already did your part and sort of wish that you'd got a job at a Quidditch shop, teaching flying lessons on the side."
"Oh," Harry replied, at a loss for anything else to say.
"I told you that you wouldn't like it."
"No, er, it's okay. I didn't know you thought that." Harry heard her rustle and turned his head to find her facing him again. He turned on his side toward her. "Why are you an Unspeakable?"
She bit her lip as she considered his question. "You don't apply to be an Unspeakable. They find you."
"I know. But surely, you're allowed to say no."
"Yes. You can say no."
"But you didn't. It's a very demanding job and pretty dangerous. So, I could argue the same, that you already did your part and should have taken an easy job, like brewing potions."
Hermione was quiet for a long time. Harry waited patiently for her to speak. He was really interested in her response. Why had he never asked her this before?
"When they approached me about the job," she began, her voice so soft he had to lean in closer to hear her, "I was feeling… how to explain… like nothing fit. Everything had gone right, you know? We won the war, I found my parents and restored their memories, Ron and I were finally together, but something was still… missing."
Harry's heart thumped hard in response. A cold chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room seeped into him.
"The Unspeakables," she continued, "they research the most powerful forces of the universe. The magic no one really understands, like love and happiness, fear, prophecies, time, and I thought—maybe if I was allowed to research those topics, the unknowable forces, I'd find it."
"Find what?" Harry breathed.
"I don't know. I haven't found it yet."
"But you think you will?" He thought of the calm Hermione in the photo. She looked like she'd found it, whatever "it" was.
"I don't know. I try not to think about it too much."
They were quiet as they laid in the bed facing each other. Harry could see Hermione's eyes drooping and picked up his wand to turn off the lights. When they were in the dark, and could no longer see each other, he asked, "Have you ever told anyone else how you were feeling when you took the job?"
"No."
"Why not?" "No one ever asked." Harry's heart broke. He had never asked. He was one of her best friends and he hadn't noticed how dissatisfied she was with her life. The signs were there, now that he was spending all this time with her, he could clearly see them: the constant stress, the fact that she always seemed to separate herself from others, the job she'd taken— he'd missed every clue. Ginny was closer to Hermione than he was. Why hadn't she noticed and told Harry? But Ginny was busy with her demanding Quidditch schedule and planning the wedding. What about Ron? What was his excuse? Then again, he'd never been good at this sort of thing. "Okay, I'm about to crash," Hermione murmured before returning to her back. Before Harry could think of something worth saying, she was asleep. He sighed and shifted to put his glasses on the bedside table, then turned back onto his side and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He watched Hermione sleep for a long time, glad that she was finally getting some much-needed rest. He reached out and placed a hand on the arm that was closest to him before whispering, "I've been a shit friend lately but I'm going to be better. I promise." He fell asleep a few moments later, turned toward her with his hand resting on her arm.
