After a lot of pestering, Harry convinced Hermione to step onto one of the colorful air streams at the fairy colony. "You'll be fine," he said. "It only takes you four feet in the air, then you'll float back down."
"I hate you," she replied, but the words didn't match the smile in her eyes.
She gripped his hand tightly as she turned to face the nearest stream of air, which was a turquoise color. Harry gave her hand a final squeeze before pulling his away.
"You can do it!" Lily shouted from the other end of the clearing.
Hermione stepped into the turquoise air. She rose up, and up, and up until she was nearly eight feet in the air. She screamed. "Harry! You said four feet!"
"It was four feet for me. But you're fine. Isn't it fun?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as the wind blew her curls all around. "I don't like this!"
"If you fall, I'll catch you with a spell," Harry said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Just open your eyes."
She did, reluctantly, and started looking around her.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"Everything looks beautiful from up here, and the air is warm, which is nice, and, and, I'm done now. I'd like to come down, please."
Harry laughed. "Okay. Just step out of the air stream and you'll float down."
He watched her hesitate, then clench her fists tightly. "I've got you, Hermione."
"You better," she said sternly before letting out a squeal and jumping out of the stream. She was caught by another gust of wind that guided her back toward the ground. But when she was just a foot off the ground, the wind didn't disappear, like it had done for Harry, but continued taking her away.
"This is odd," Hermione said, looking curiously back at Harry, who had started running after her.
"Can you step out of it?"
Hermione tried to break free of the gust of wind carrying her, but it just kept shifting to catch her again. She shook her head. The hairs rose on the back of Harry's arms as she was taken out of the clearing. He quickened his pace.
When he finally caught up to her, she didn't look scared, but curious. "I don't know how to stop this," she said when she saw him again.
He was running as fast as he could to keep up with her, so was breathing too hard to respond. He tried to get enough air to tell her to Disapparate, when she disappeared down another path and he lost sight of her again. He followed the fairy dust the gust of wind was leaving behind, winding further and further into the forest as he shouted Hermione's name.
The air around him was cold and for the first time since he'd entered the Enchanted Forest, he felt the telltale signs of Dark Magic: the emptiness in his chest, the way his hair was standing on end. "Hermione!" he gasped, stretching his legs even further.
After what felt like two miles of running, the glittering dust led him to a clearing. He stopped when he spotted two figures ahead of him, but it was too dark to make them out. "Hermione?"
There was a muffled voice. Harry cast several lights around the area to brighten the clearing. He let out a strangled cry when the two figures came into focus.
It was Voldemort.
He had Hermione gagged and was holding her against his chest as he touched his wand tip to her neck. Hermione let out another muffled sound through her gag. She kept cocking her head to the side and raising her eyebrows. Harry knew what she was trying to tell him. She wanted him to leave. But there was no way he was going to leave her alone.
"Tom," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. He tightened his grip on his wand, then remembered this wasn't the Phoenix feather wand. It would provide no special protections against Voldemort.
"Harry Potter," Voldemort replied in that eerie, high-pitched voice Harry never thought he'd hear again.
"You're dead."
"Maybe in your world, I'm dead," he hissed. "Here…"
A cold pit settled into Harry's stomach. "No," he said with more confidence than he was feeling. "Neville Longbottom killed you."
A depraved smile spread across the dark wizard's face. "Did he, now? You shouldn't tamper with magic you don't understand." Voldemort dug his wand into Hermione's neck, causing her to twist in his arms.
Voldemort looked down at her, then at a plant at his side. Harry's stomach turned. It was the Booster Briar. Holy fuck. By the look on Voldemort's face, he knew exactly how the plant worked.
"Take me!" Harry cried. "Let her go and take me; kill me." Tears were streaming down his face. "Whatever you do, don't kill her."
"Oh, I'm not going to kill her," Voldemort said with a wicked grin. "Not initially, that is." He reached down and took one of the leaves between his fingers, then murmured, "Crucio," just as Harry ran at full force, with no plan in mind. He just knew he had to get to Hermione.
She let out a series of soul-wrenching screams and Harry felt himself start to dissolve with each step he took. It was like he was becoming the wind that had taken Hermione away from him. As his body disappeared, he had a fleeting and terrifying thought. He was going to be forced to float around the clearing, powerless to help Hermione, while Voldemort tortured her to death.
"Hermione!" he shouted, but the words were lost in the wind.
"Hermione! Hermione!" No sound came out. It was like he was shouting into a vacuum.
He shot up in bed. "Hermione!"
This time, his cry echoed around the room.
Hermione's eyes flew open. Someone was shouting her name. Firm hands gripped her arm. "Hermione?"
The room was pitch black and her mind was fuzzy. "Hermione?" the voice repeated.
Everything fell into place at once. Harry. She was with Harry. They were in an alternate universe, traveling with his parents, and sharing a bed. She turned and could barely make out the shape of him in the dark. "Harry. What's wrong?"
He engulfed her in a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around her back, which pressed her head into his chest. He was warm and damp from sweat and Hermione could barely breathe, but she didn't care. It was clear he needed this hug and she could heal any broken ribs later.
"It was a dream," he was repeating under his breath. She could feel the words vibrating in his chest. "It was just a dream," he repeated a few more times. "Fuck!"
As abruptly as he'd hugged her, he let her go, nearly jumping up out of the bed and leaving Hermione feeling cold. She pulled up the blankets around her. "Are you okay, Harry? You had a nightmare?"
He just grunted in response and she could see his silhouette pulling a jumper on over his nightshirt. "I'm sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep," he said before opening the canvas flap and leaving the room. She heard his footsteps on the stairs as she pulled herself up to a sitting position.
"Ahhmmmewwwmm," she groaned as the pain in her side shot through her body like daggers. It was always the worst right after she woke up. She was glad Harry was gone, so she could moan and wince freely. When she'd finally pulled herself out of the bed, she stretched carefully, so as not to aggravate her wound. Then, she pulled a jumper on over her pajamas and took one of the blankets off the bed, wrapping herself with it before going to find Harry.
She struggled to find him at first because the moon was dim. She eventually spotted him several paces away from the opening of the tent, sitting with his back against a large rock and his knees pulled up to his chest. He was looking away from her, toward the forest.
Hermione took a seat next to him. They sat in silence for several moments, listening to each other's breathing, until Harry eventually turned to her. "You can go back to the tent, Hermione. I'm okay, really. I'm sorry I woke you up."
She turned to study him, waiting a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. There were tear tracks on his face, shining faintly, and his eyes looked haunted. She opened the blanket and wrapped it around both of them, then laid her head on his shoulder. "I know you like to pretend everything's okay, even when it's not, but you don't have to do that with me, Harry."
He grabbed the blanket she'd draped around his back and pulled it over his shoulder, then let out a large sigh. "How do you know me so well?"
"You're my best friend."
"Hmm." He was quiet for another minute or so, then added, "But we're not as close as we were."
"No. We're not," she agreed.
"We grew apart and I...missed it. I'm glad we have this trip. It's not just a reunion for me and my parents, but for us, too."
Hermione just nodded. A silence settled over them and again, it was Harry who broke it. "Why did we never make a point to hang out alone together? You're always hanging out with Ginny, and you obviously see Ron all the time, but we only see each other in groups, don't we?"
Hermione nodded again. "I know what you mean. We should set up a regular lunch or something. The thought occurred to me a few times."
"It did? Why didn't you tell me?"
Hermione waited a long time to respond. She sat up, so her head was no longer resting on Harry's shoulder. "It's always me, isn't it? I guess I got tired of that."
Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He turned toward Hermione, but she kept her face forward. "Hey," he whispered.
She hummed but didn't turn to face him.
"Can you look at me?" When she didn't move, he unfolded his legs and turned his body to face her before adding, "Please?"
When she finally looked back at him, her eyes were shining with tears. Harry had to blink quickly to keep his own tears from falling. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "I actually realized yesterday what a shit friend I've been and this just confirms it. I'm going to be better. Promise."
Hermione looked down at the ground and grabbed the edge of the blanket, which had fallen off Harry when he shifted positions, and put it back on his shoulders. "You're letting the cold in."
"Oh, sorry."
He shifted back against her side and pulled the blanket back around himself. He wanted her to say more about his promise, but all she said was, "Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about?"
"No," he said automatically.
"You should. It helps to talk about these things. There's been research about it."
"Really?"
"Yes. I can start spouting it all off, or you can trust me on this, tell me what you dreamed about, and save us both some time."
Harry let out a small laugh. "Okay. I guess I'll go with the latter."
"Good."
Harry began to tell her about the nightmare, explaining how it had begun as a memory of her jumping into the air stream in the fairy colony but changed quickly. How instead of landing safely on the ground, she was swept into the forest. How he had run after her for miles and found her in a clearing with Voldemort pressing his wand into her neck. He told her what Voldemort had told him, about not messing with magic he didn't understand, and then what Voldemort had done afterward.
When he was finished talking, Hermione snuggled closer to him. "That's pretty dark."
"Yeah."
"It makes sense, though. You're uncertain about this world and the unknown dangers of dimension-hopping— which is fair, I have the same fears. And you're afraid of being alone, so you were separated from your parents early on, who could have possibly helped you fight Voldemort. And more than anything, you hate the idea of being powerless to save your friends, so as you ran to save me, you were turned into air. It's...well...not surprising."
Harry just hummed. Trust Hermione to have the wherewithal to accurately analyze someone else's dream in the middle of the night.
"Do you still have nightmares back at home?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Me too."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
He gave her a small smile before turning back to the forest. "Harry?" she asked after several more moments of silence.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want me to leave you alone?" She remembered Ginny telling her once that Harry preferred to be alone after he had a nightmare and would usually sleep in the spare bedroom for the rest of the night.
Harry thought about it for a minute, chewing on his lip, then said, almost reluctantly, "No."
Harry, like Hermione, was thinking about Ginny. Back at home, when he had a nightmare, he usually left her to go sleep in another room. He knew she didn't have the patience for him when he was feeling pathetic and scared, though she tried hard to hide it. She loved him for his strength and bravery so when he was suffering from nightmares and flashbacks, or even bouts of grief, he tried to do so in silence.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "That doesn't sound like a very confident 'no.'"
"I'm sure."
She arched her eyebrow in a way that said, "You don't sound sure."
"I had a disturbing nightmare about you dying. Having you here, very much alive, is a nice comfort. Unless you want to go now, of course. I don't want to keep you up."
Hermione watched him thoughtfully, then shifted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder again. "I want to stay."
Day Three
The next morning, Harry and Hermione woke up late since they stayed outside talking for nearly two hours before finally going back to sleep. "There's our fearless leader," James said when Hermione finally walked into the kitchen, yawning.
"Here," he said, handing her a cup of tea. "Extra-strong with a splash of milk."
"Oh, perfect." Hermione took a sip and let out a large sigh. "Thanks, James. And you even remembered how I like it."
He cocked a questioning eyebrow at her. Shoot. She thought assuming he hadn't made tea for her in years was safe.
"It's an easy order to remember," he said slowly, "as it's the same way I like my tea."
"Oh, right," she said before taking a large gulp.
"You never forget anything. And with all that time you spent making tea for the Order members at Headquarters, using it as an excuse to sneak into the meeting room," he added in an undertone, "I thought for sure you'd be able to list off everyone's' order perfectly, even now, years later."
Please, please don't ask me to do that.
"Lay off her, James," Lily said from the table. "Hermione's clearly exhausted. Did you not sleep well?"
Hermione, eager for an excuse to escape James and his shrewd stare, went to join Lily at the table. "It took me forever to fall asleep," she began, lying easily. "My mind was going a mile a minute after everything we saw at the colony."
"I get that," Lily said with a smile. "That was incredible, by the way. I see why it's called a Wonder of the World and now I'm more excited than ever to see the rest of them."
"Speaking of which," James said, taking the empty chair next to Hermione, "where are we going next?"
Hermione was relieved he'd dropped the topic of tea orders and dove heartily into the conversation, explaining her plan for the rest of the day. She was telling them how imperative it was that they make their 2:00 pm Portkey as Harry walked into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower.
"What's happening at two?" he asked through a yawn.
"I told you upstairs. The Portkey. It's set to activate at 2:00pm and we can't miss it, okay?"
Harry nodded as he took the last seat at the table. "Yes, 2:00pm. Got it." He looked down at his watch. "That gives us four hours."
"Yes," Lily replied. "We were talking about going into town for more supplies. Maybe explore a bit and stop somewhere for a long lunch."
"Sounds good to me."
"Hang on," James cut in. "We still haven't heard where we're going."
"The Forgotten City," Hermione answered.
"Right," James replied. "What's there?"
"No one knows. As soon as they see it, they forget."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"No, not really," Hermione said. "I know what's there but I think it'll be better if it's a surprise."
Lily leaned close to Hermione and whispered, "You can tell me. I won't tell the boys."
"Sorry," Hermione said with a grin. "But I will tell you it's in China. That's why I set the Portkey for 2:00pm, which is 8:00pm there. Once we arrive, we'll all take Sleeping Potions so we can get right to sleep as we have an early day in the morning."
"We're going to sleep at 8:00?" Harry asked.
"2:00 our time," Lily said.
"It'll be more like 9:00 after we settle in but we need to go right to sleep so we're rested enough when we meet the guide at 6:00am the next day."
"Why so early?" James asked.
"You'll see," Hermione replied before draining her tea and going to the sink to wash out her mug.
"Your fiancée has control issues," she heard James tell Harry as she returned the clean mug to the cabinet.
"No comment," Harry replied, which made James laugh.
After Harry finished his tea, the group packed up the tent and went to explore the nearest magical village. They seemed to have the entire town to themselves. They had fun looking through the shops and had lunch outside at a small café where Lily and James told Harry and Hermione about their jobs.
Lily was currently working for a small publishing firm, doing spell and potions testing for new books. She said it was occasionally challenging, but mostly dull. "I'm considering switching jobs and trying to do something with my Potions Mastery." She turned to Hermione. "Do you still volunteer at St. Mungo's, making Healing Potions and salves?"
Hermione nodded confidently. She had seen multiple appointments titled St. Mungo's in the other Hermione's planner. Originally, she thought it had to do with her wound, but as that seemed to be incurable, this made more sense.
"Do they take people full-time in that department?"
"I don't know. I'll check when I'm back."
"Brilliant." Lily turned to James. "Tell them what you're up to these days. I'm sure Harry will get a kick out of it."
Harry tensed. Shit. It was another one of those moments when he had to have the right reaction, with none of the context. As far as he could guess, he had only got about half of these little tests right so far.
"Thanks for the support, Lil," James said. "There's not that much new to report. I'm still tutoring Hogwarts students during breaks from school and while school is in session, I do contract work for the DMLE."
He worked for the DMLE too? Harry wanted to ask several follow-up questions, but couldn't. Luckily, Hermione jumped in. She was getting really good at taking the role of questioner.
"Who do you work with at the DMLE? Anyone I know?"
Harry squeezed her leg. She was brilliant. It was an innocuous question that she shouldn't already know the answer to, but one that could give them hints about the other people in their lives and what they were doing in this world.
"Tonks," James replied. "I'm sure you remember her. She'd just graduated Auror training when you moved into Headquarters."
"Yes. Of course I remember Tonks." Hermione smiled as Harry squeezed her leg again under the table. She was glad that in another world, Tonks had survived the war.
"Well, you may not know that she's pregnant with her first child. Soon, she'll be on leave and I'll have to work with Dawlish, the old stodger."
"James…" Lily said warningly.
"He is a stodger. They know that."
"Who did she marry?" Hermione asked, holding her breath as she waited for James to mention one of his best friends. But he didn't.
"Some bloke who works in International Cooperation. I don't remember his name."
Hermione and Harry both tried to hide their looks of disappointment. So Tonks had lived, but she wasn't with Lupin.
"Anyway," James continued, "as Lily was hinting at earlier, I'm also considering a career change. I love the tutoring but not the DMLE work. I just do it to pass the time. I've never wanted to join up full time, though they keep badgering me about it."
Harry squeezed Hermione's leg again, which prompted her to ask, "Why not?"
James waved dismissively. "I already did plenty of fighting and crime-solving in the war. What I want to do is go back to Hogwarts. Or, no, what I really want to do is become twenty years younger so I can play Quidditch again, but sadly, those days are over for me."
He winked at Harry, who was trying to figure out if his dad was referring to playing Quidditch in school or if he had played professionally while Harry had been growing up. That would have been so cool.
"You want to be a Professor?" Hermione asked, uninterested to learn in what capacity James had played Quidditch.
James nodded and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "What do you think?"
Harry let out a small laugh and tried to hide his nerves as he said, "Are they going to let you teach? One of the biggest trouble-makers in the history of the school?"
James laughed and Harry relaxed slightly. "There's more," Lily chimed in. "Your dad is currently writing a textbook."
"What?" Harry asked. "Why?"
"McGonagall told him it would be a good way to show the Board of Directors that he is serious and has put his trouble-making days behind him."
Hermione perked up. Harry knew what she was thinking. If McGonagall was Headmistress, that probably meant Dumbledore was dead. His heart ached slightly but he tried to push it away and force out a laugh. "Well, who's stodgy now, Dad?"
"Hey! I'm going to be a very cool Professor."
"What subject do you want to teach?" Hermione asked.
"Transfiguration. But I'll take anything to get in the door. Even Divination, if I had to."
Hermione rolled her eyes and James laughed again.
"I'm with you, Hermione," Lily said. "That is the most useless subject they teach at that school."
Harry's chest clenched. If only they knew of the prophecy in his world that had led to their deaths. Hermione grabbed his hand under the table. "Anyway," she said, "good luck, James. Writing a textbook sounds hard."
"It's not that hard. It's staying awake while working on it that's hard."
Lily laughed and leaned into James, then said in a more somber tone. "I wish Sirius were here to see this. He wouldn't let you live it down."
James gave her a sad smile and there was no mistaking the grief swimming in his eyes. "No he wouldn't," he agreed. "And he'd be trying to sneak inappropriate passages into the book, so I'd have to keep it under strong Locking Charms. Remus would be better."
Lilly nodded. "Loads better. He'd help you draft your case for the Board."
Hermione squeezed Harry's hand again. Sirius and Lupin were dead in this world, too.
James sighed, then forced a smile on his face and turned to Harry. "It's not a terrible case. I think everyone forgets that I turned it around in school and was made Head Boy. Then, I became a very responsible father who managed to raise a decent bloke." He paused to nudge Harry. "A Prefect who would have been Head Boy had the school not been occupied by Death Eaters his Seventh Year and had the interim Headmaster not put his son in the position."
"Still bitter about that, James?" Lily asked teasingly.
"It should have been Harry. If there wasn't a war, the Potter Head Boy legacy that was intact for four generations would have continued."
"Lucius is in Azkaban now," Lily replied, "so I think he's suffering properly for that crime."
"Among others," James said darkly.
"Enough war talk," Lily cut in. "We're on Holiday. Let's try to enjoy it."
"Yeah, you're right," James said, getting up out of his seat. "I'm going to take care of the bill. Then we can explore the rest of the town in our remaining—" he checked his watch, "—62 minutes. Because I've been informed there's a Portkey at 2:00 I cannot miss." He winked at Hermione.
"I'm going to use the loo," Lily said, disappearing into the restaurant behind James.
When Harry and Hermione were alone, they turned to each other and simply stared in shock for several moments.
"That was a lot," Harry whispered.
"Yeah. No Dumbledore, no Lupin, no Sirius."
"No Teddy," he hissed.
"Yeah."
"And Snape! He wasn't Headmaster."
"I know. I suspected that as soon as I learned I chose a career in Potions in this world. I was never very into Potions growing up and most of that was due to Snape. I have a feeling he never switched sides in this world, since he only did that because of your mum. So he would have never been a Hogwarts Professor and in position to take over as Headmaster for Dumbledore."
"Huh. And what about Petti—"
The door to the restaurant opened and Lily reappeared. She motioned toward the door. "James is asking the owner why the town is so empty but it's a difficult conversation since James knows fifteen words of French and the man seems to know about that much English."
Hermione almost spoke up to say she knew several translation spells, but ultimately refrained, since this Hermione was an expert in Potions, not obscure spells.
A few minutes later, James came out of the restaurant. "Okay. From what I can tell, there's a festival one town over and that's where everyone is."
"What sort of festival?" Lily asked.
"No idea. Something about nights, which didn't make sense, since it's the middle of the day, but I got coordinates." He held out a scrap of parchment with numbers scribbled across. "We can Apparate there and check it out."
Everyone looked at Hermione. "Fine," she sighed, "but we have to make that Portkey at—"
"Two," they all said in unison.
"We know, Hermione," James said, making copies of the coordinates with his wand and handing one each to her and Harry. "I promise we won't miss the Portkey."
"Okay, we found the people," Lily said once they arrived at the coordinates. That was an understatement. By the looks of it, there weren't just a few towns-worth of people here, but all the witches and wizards on this side of France.
"What the…?" Harry began, whipping his head around to take in the sights around them. There were tents spread around, crowds of people everywhere, music, laughter, dancing, horses, and the sound of clanking and...swords?
Just then, two middle-aged men walked by wearing suits of armor that were much too small for them, causing their bellies to poke out. They had their visors up and were drinking from large tankards of beer.
Lily nudged James and muttered, "It's like you when you try to fit into your old Quidditch robes."
James tickled her side, causing her to squeal. "Just kidding!" she cried, holding her hands up in the air for surrender. "You're very fit and handsome."
He threw an arm around her shoulders and winked down at her. "I know." He cocked his head toward the men dressed as knights, indicating they should follow after them. They came upon a tent where two other men dressed as knights—who were younger and fit into their suits—were fighting each other with swords.
"What am I watching here?" James asked.
"I have no idea," Lily replied.
"Why aren't they using their wands?" Harry asked.
James shrugged.
"They have these medieval festivals in the Muggle world," Hermione chimed in. "Maybe this is the Wizarding version of that."
Just then, there was a large crash and they turned to find a jousting ring about fifty feet away. Another knight was lying on the ground, surrounded by a group of Medi-Wizards. After a few moments, the Medi-Wizards Levitated the man into the air and moved him out of the ring as his winged horse followed behind him.
They watched the next round and at the end, before the knight closest to them was hit, his horse flapped his wings and rose into the air, flying out of the way just in time.
James looked back at the group. "He was talking about 'knights,' not 'nights.' This is incredible, by the way."
"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed. "But remember, we only have—" she looked down at her watch, "—45 minutes here. So use your time wisely."
James held his hand out to her. "Give me the Portkey."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Hermione frowned, but still reached into her pack for the leather envelope that held the Portkeys. She pulled another key, this one bronze, out of the second slot and handed it to James.
He tapped it with his wand and an inscription appeared in the air above the key. Portkey will activate on 12-08-01 at 2:00pm CET.
"See?" Hermione said. "2:00pm."
"Yes, I wasn't doubting the accuracy of the time," he said absently as he murmured a few incantations under his breath.
Hermione watched as a series of gold symbols appeared above the Portkey. James moved a few of them around with his wand, muttered another incantation, then handed the key back to Hermione. "Check the time now."
Hermione tapped her wand to the key. Portkey will activate on 12-08-01 at 4:00pm CET.
"James! What did you do?"
"Changed the time," he said with a shrug. "Now we have two hours and forty-five minutes to explore this bizarre festival." He turned down one of the paths, dragging Lily behind him, who mouthed, "Sorry," to Hermione over her shoulder.
"James!" Hermione cried, chasing after him. "How did you do that?"
"Ah. So you don't know all the spells," he teased.
Hermione scowled. No, she didn't know how to alter timed Portkeys. She was sure she could figure it out, but it would probably take her a few hours and by then, it would be too late. She looked at Harry, who was exchanging an amused look with Lily. He gave Hermione a small, apologetic smile when he saw her glaring at him.
James disappeared into one of the tents and reappeared a few minutes later holding a glass of wine. "Take this, Hermione."
"I don't want wine," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want you to fix my Portkey. Like I said back at the tent, we have an early day tomorrow and—"
"I know, Hermione, and we'll be fine. We'll arrive at 10:00pm Chinese time, go to bed immediately and be asleep by 10:30. Then we'll wake up at 5:30 the next morning for our tour. That will give us seven hours of sleep, which is plenty."
He shook the wine glass in his hand again. "Now please, drink this, relax, and watch people pretend to be knights."
She glared at him as she grabbed the wine and took a large gulp. "Wow. That's strong."
"It's a fortified wine. I thought you needed some extra help loosening all that tension you're carrying around."
"At least tell me what spell you used on the Portkey."
"I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, I'm in charge of these." He took the leather envelope with the Portkeys out of her hand and shoved them in an inner pocket of his robes.
"James!"
"Sorry, Hermione. It's my turn to lead the group. You can take over again when we get to China."
She huffed, then looked at Harry and murmured, "Your dad has control issues."
James let out a laugh and pulled her into his side. "I cannot wait until you're a Potter, Hermione. You're going to fit right in."
Hermione's eyes flashed to Harry, who was wearing an odd look before he caught her watching him and made his expression blank. She shot him a shy smile, then drained the rest of her glass.
An hour later, they were in one of the tents with live music. Lily and Hermione were sitting at one of the tables, watching the couples on the dance floor, while Harry and James went to get another round of drinks.
"Hey," James said, nudging Harry's arm as they waited in line. "How's Hermione doing?"
Harry turned around and saw Hermione laughing at something his mum had just said. "What do you mean?"
"I got to know her pretty well during the war—" He paused and gave Harry a knowing look.
When he didn't keep talking, Harry said, "Were you going to finish that sentence?"
"I was waiting for you to bite my head off there."
"We agreed to put all that behind us," Harry said quickly, looking back at Hermione and his mum, just as an excuse to look away from James's searching look.
"Yeah. You're right. Anyway, I know how stressed she can get but it got a lot better at the end, especially after you two got together and she learned to cope with her injury." He paused again. When Harry said nothing, he asked, "Still nothing? Not even a glare? You are committed to leaving it all in the past, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Harry said, keeping his eyes on the witches. "I am." It was obvious their rift had something to do with Hermione, but Harry couldn't imagine what it could be about. And this was the first he was hearing about any injury. Luckily, she appeared to have made a full recovery. He smiled when she laughed again, leaning her head back and letting her laughter take over her whole body. Harry wished he were in that conversation, instead of this one.
He turned to James and said bluntly, "What do you want to say, Dad?"
"She was better than this, after the war, but she seems to have regressed. She's just as stressed now as she was at Headquarters."
Harry just hummed.
"And you're not much better," James added. "You've been off, especially today."
Harry just nodded. He was still a little shaken from his nightmare but wasn't about to bring it up. "I'm okay," he said, forcing a smile on his face. "I just, uh, get down every so often."
James studied him for a few seconds, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have a great job, you've earned the love of a remarkable witch, and we just saw one of the most beautiful sights I've ever encountered. But here you are, sad."
"Yeah," Harry replied, blinking back tears.
They'd reached the front of the line and James ordered their drinks. He handed Harry a beer and a wine. "I know you have a lot to be sad about, we all do, but try your best to focus on the good things in your life. Focusing on the other stuff will just drive you mad."
When they returned to the table, James put his and Lily's drinks down and bowed low, offering her his hand. "May I have this dance?"
"Absolutely," Lily replied, jumping up and placing her hand in his.
James gave Harry a knowing look before pulling Lily onto the dance floor.
Harry sighed as he took a seat next to Hermione. "My dad thinks we're too serious."
"Ahh. That might be true," she said, taking a sip from the glass Harry had just handed to her.
"It seems like the other Harry and Hermione were a lot more fun than we are."
"Yeah, well, the other Harry wasn't an orphan, raised by relatives who didn't like him, and forced to spend his childhood figuring out how to defeat the darkest wizard of all time while every parent figure who entered his life dropped dead."
"Blunt."
She just smiled and shrugged.
"What's your excuse?" he asked.
She shrugged again. "No idea." She got up from the table with some difficulty, then straightened her robes. "Let's dance."
Harry looked her over. She was wobbly and her eyes were slightly unfocused. "Are you drunk?
"Tipsy," she corrected, looking proud of herself.
"How many of those have you had?"
"That's my third."
"Hermione! There's liquor in those, so each one is like two drinks. Need I remind you that you're a lightweight?"
She shrugged. "You should join me. Maybe then your parents won't think you're too serious."
"I think at least one of us should stay sober."
"Okay. Where did we land on the dance?"
Harry stood up, grabbed her waist, and guided her to the other side of the tent. He saw his dad give him an approving nod and smiled back at him before turning to face Hermione. "Okay. What was the verdict from our dance yesterday? Am I just as bad of a dancer in this body as I was in my own?"
"Yes. This Harry is a very bad dancer. But I have a feeling he doesn't care." She placed her hands on his hips and shook them, trying to get him to loosen his stance. "Relax, Harry."
Harry took her hands and pushed her out, then turned his arm around her head, trying to get her to twirl. She turned quickly and crashed into him on her way back. "Graceful," he laughed, holding her close to steady her. "Who's the bad dancer now?"
She laughed loudly, which just made him laugh more. "See, we can have fun," she said as she stepped back and linked her hands behind his neck.
"Sure we can. We'll show them."
Hermione shook her head. "Let's not do it for show. Let's just have fun for ourselves today." She raised an imaginary glass and said, "To us!"
"You do realize there's nothing in your hand."
"Of course I do. I'm not that far gone. We'll finish the toast when we get back to the table."
"I think I should cut you off."
She pouted. "Come on...one more? I thought we were going to have fun."
She was beaming, her brown eyes bright, and Harry couldn't drag his eyes away. He was reminded of that photo of the Hermione from this time. He reached out and pushed a curl behind her ear. "Fine. You can finish that glass of wine, but first, are you ready to attempt another twirl?"
She moved close, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek as she said, "Yes. But don't drop me."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
