The Portkey transported them from the bottom of the ocean to the base of a mountain. Even with the Pressure Stabilizing Potions Hermione had instructed everyone to drink before the Portkey activated, Harry felt nauseous and light-headed when his feet touched solid ground. He immediately crouched down and pressed hard on his temples as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to vomit.
It felt like the world was spinning around him. He reasoned he should open his eyes, figuring it would help to see that he was, indeed, stationary, but it still took him several seconds to pry his eyes open. He was met with a glorious sight, which he wished he wasn't too sick to appreciate.
He was on a rocky shore, surrounded by huge mountains that were jutting up out of the water. The water was so still, it was like a mirror reflecting the image of the mountains. The sky was clear and the sun was falling toward the horizon. As he breathed in the crisp air, his headache began to subside and after a few minutes, he felt well enough to stand. That's when he realized he was alone.
"Hermione?! Mum! Dad!"
His chest clenched as he began to run along the shore. He found his dad a few paces away, emerging from behind a tree. "Harry! Where are the girls?"
"Over here!" Lily called from behind a rock. Hermione appeared behind her, looking paler than normal, but otherwise okay. The tightness in Harry's chest released. Lily conjured glasses of water for everyone and they all took tentative sips as they walked back to the shore.
"That was extremely disorienting," James remarked, vanishing his empty glass.
Hermione simply nodded. "I knew it would be bad. It's a good thing we had the Potion, though I'd certainly increase the dose if I were to ever do that again. Or rather, charter a boat to the surface and take a Portkey from there."
"That would have been smart," Lily agreed.
Harry gestured to the scene around them. "This place is beautiful. Where are we, again? The Song of the Stars?"
"Yes," Hermione replied. She removed her wand and performed a Navigation Spell, then motioned for them to continue walking along the shore. "The Wonder is called the Song of the Stars, but the actual location is the Lofoten Islands in Norway. The island we're on now, Hølen, is a magical island not visible to the Muggles. But all these other islands," she gestured around them, "they can see."
Harry looked to their left where there was a smattering of buildings along the shore. It was impressive to think of the wards around them that prevented all the people on that island from seeing this one. He wondered if Muggleborn children would be able to see the island, when no one else in their family could, and was about to ask Hermione when she said something that pushed the thought from his mind.
"Once we get the tent set up, I have something important to tell you all." Her eyes flashed to James and they shared a look before Hermione glanced down at her feet.
"What?" Harry asked.
She ignored him and started talking about the time, explaining how it was just after 8:00 pm here but how they wouldn't take Sleeping Potions, since the Wonder was something that could only be viewed at night. Since they were so far north, it wouldn't become dark until around 10:00 pm, which gave them plenty of time to set up the tent, eat lunch/dinner, and talk before going to see (or rather, hear) the Song of the Stars.
When she was finished with her explanation—which Harry guessed she had made as long-winded as possible to avoid any more follow-up questions about her previous statement—Harry went to her side. "What's the important thing you need to tell us?" he asked in a low voice.
She gave him a dismissive wave. "I'll tell you in the tent."
"But my dad already knows?" Harry pressed.
She ignored him and started talking about fjords and how they were formed, again pointing out how some of the most magnificent wonders of the world were created by nature, rather than magic. Hermione was deliberately avoiding him, refusing now to meet his eyes. Damn. This was a bad sign.
Fortunately, Harry didn't have long to worry over whatever important news Hermione might have for them, and why she'd told his dad about it instead of him because a few moments later, they arrived at a clearing that was crammed with magical tents.
"Wow. This is a popular destination," James said as Hermione guided them through the lines of tents.
Harry was reminded of the Wizarding World Cup he'd attended before his Fourth Year, which was the only other time he'd seen this many tents in one place. Though the mood here was very different. The wizards they passed were quiet and subdued, almost reverent, not loud and boisterous like the fans at the Quidditch World Cup. His mind drifted to the events after the match, which had been loud in a whole other way. He pushed the dark memories from his mind.
"This is the easiest Wonder to get to," Hermione was saying. "There are no mazes, no diving into the sea, no walking on air or handing your wand over to giants. It's also close to Europe. All that makes this the most popular Wonder, by far."
She stopped in front of a sign that read Row 12, Spot E in a bright green script. "This is our campsite," she announced, stepping onto a spot of grass between two tents that looked barely large enough to contain their tent.
After confirming the tents on either side of them were empty, or at least that the wizards inside were not interested in coming out and greeting their new neighbors, they worked on setting up their tent. They erected it in record time, in large part due to Harry, who was eager to learn about this "important information" Hermione had been keeping from him the whole trip.
He knew what he wanted it to be, but doubted she was going to announce to the group that she was in love with him and had decided to break things off with Ron and give a relationship with Harry a try. Also, he wasn't even sure if he was ready for that. He had no idea what state he'd be in after this trip. All he knew for certain was that he was in love with Hermione and wanted her by his side, in whatever capacity she'd allow.
Currently, they were in the sitting room of the tent, in the same spots they'd occupied a few nights ago when Harry and Hermione had told his parents about the war in their world. Harry pulled one leg up, so he was facing Hermione on the couch, but she kept her gaze forward, on his parents. "I need to tell you all how Harry and I are going to get back home," she began.
Harry leaned forward, his curiosity more peaked than before, which he hadn't thought possible. He'd asked her about this a few times on the trip, wondering if they would have to get back into the Department of Mysteries somehow or if she had some spell that could create the portal they'd jumped through. Every time, she brushed him off, claiming they didn't need to worry about it until the end of their trip, while also assuring him that she did know how to get back since she'd successfully made it out of this world twice before.
Hermione turned to Harry. She was nervous. He could tell by the way she was chewing her lip, and how her eyes were darting around, settling on his side, his cheek, his nose. Anywhere but his eyes. The hair on his arms was standing on end. This wasn't going to be good.
"Remember when I told you that time passed at the same rate in this world as it does in ours?" Hermione asked. "That's why we were rushing to get here. I knew we had dinner with your parents at 6:30 pm and didn't want to be late."
Harry nodded.
"Then I said when we return to our world, no time will have passed."
Harry nodded again.
"That makes no sense," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"We're in a completely different world in other people's bodies. None of this makes sense," Harry countered. James snorted from across the room, but Harry ignored him and stayed focused on Hermione.
Hermione sighed, looking annoyed that he wasn't inherently getting whatever complicated concept she was trying to explain. She raised her wand to Summon a parchment and pen from upstairs. When they flew into her hand a few moments later, she drew a small circle on one end of the parchment and wrote the date they'd arrived next to it. On the other side of the parchment, she drew another circle and labeled it with the date they'd be leaving, two days from today. She drew a line between them and looked back up at Harry.
"Harry," she said gently, "the only way to ensure no time has passed when we return to our world is to do this before we return." She folded the paper so the two circles she'd drawn were touching.
Harry cocked his head in confusion, looking at the curved loop of the edge of the parchment. Then, he got it. "But that would mean…"
"You're going to go back in time?" Lily asked.
"Yes," Hermione said simply. "That's the only way to guarantee that this Harry and Hermione are unaffected by our visit to this world. And to ensure we don't drive our loved ones mad with worry in our world, by disappearing for two weeks."
Harry's brain was working hard to consider all the implications of what she'd just revealed. He was thinking of the portal they'd jumped into in their old bodies. Is that where those bodies were now, floating around that strange place of colorful shapes? Or were they still in the Department of Mysteries? Were the other Harry and Hermione's souls floating around in that same portal? Were they alone and scared, or could they communicate with each other somehow?
Harry thought of his parents and something niggled at the back of his mind. Before he could latch onto the ominous thought and try to unravel it, his mum said, "We won't remember this."
Harry's head snapped back to Hermione. He felt his insides crumbling and he was glad he was sitting since he didn't think his legs would be able to support him right now. "Is that true?" The words sounded strange and raspy and he wondered if his voice had dissolved along with the rest of his insides.
Hermione was bent over the parchment. She tore it about an inch above where she drew the line and folded the paper again, so the two circles were touching. Then she picked up her pen and drew a second line starting from the first circle along the unfolded part of the page. "This line here will commence once we return home, like a divergence from the timeline we're currently on. The other Harry and Hermione will go to dinner and then, uh, start their trip."
"And us?" Harry asked.
"We're on this loop here," Hermione explained. "We'll return home and our lives will continue back in our world from the point we left it. And we'll remember it all."
"But they won't," Harry said. He looked at his parents. Lily looked angry and James looked resigned.
"Technically, they will remember. But, uh, this timeline will sort of...end. When we take Harry and Hermione's bodies out of this world, we'll create a sort of time paradox and everything will kind of break. This small, twoweek loop will remain just that, a two-week loop. And this other line here," she tapped her pen on the second, longer line she'd drawn on the straight piece of parchment, "is where James and Lily will continue to live out their lives, with the other Harry and Hermione. It's the safest way, Harry," she ended in a pleading tone.
His vision blurred as tears stung his eyes. All of it, the games, the jokes, the experiences they'd shared. All that time they'd spent getting to know Harry. Hours of conversations, the most notable of which had happened right here, were going to be erased. His parents would know nothing about him and would go on with their lives, blissfully unaware of his existence.
Harry had been clinging to the hope as the trip came to a close, that even after he returned to his world, he'd know his parents were out there, somewhere, and knew him, and that they'd think of him, on occasion, and the time they shared. But now…that hope was gone. And Hermione had known the whole time.
"You knew," Lily said from across the room.
Harry was confused. Of course, Hermione knew. What was she talking about? But Lily wasn't looking at Hermione. She was looking at James, who had his head in his hands.
He nodded, then looked up and said roughly, "She showed me a memory that night when they told us where they came from. She was breaking into the Department of Mysteries and using a Time Turner to go back in time. Once in the past, she stepped into a large portal—the same one I saw in Harry's mind—to return to her world. That's how she was certain our Harry and Hermione were going to be unaffected. Because it would be like it had never happened."
Lily was angry, that much was obvious by the look of fury in her eyes, but she seemed to be trying to decide who to direct it at. After a silent conversation with James, where they shared words with facial expressions and hand gestures, Lily reached out and grabbed his hand, then focused her glare at Hermione.
Hermione cowered slightly, hunching her shoulders, but Harry didn't have any sympathy for her. She should have told him from the start.
"How does all this work?" Lily asked, her tone harsh. "Explain it."
Hermione took the opportunity to give everyone a lesson on dimension travel, but Harry was barely listening. As she described the different ways to hop through dimensions (Apparition, for traveling through three dimensions, time travel for making your way through the fourth dimension, and finally, universe hopping for the fifth dimension—which was commonly referred to by Unspeakables as the 'mystic dimension' or the dimensions of 'what ifs and if onlys'), Harry seethed.
Why had she kept this from him? She knew him better than anyone. She must have known he was relying on his parents remembering. She should have told him the truth up front then he wouldn't have allowed himself to hope.
"For all levels of dimension travel," she was saying, eyeing Harry warily, as if he was about to explode, "you can travel with or without your body. In this case, I chose to come without our old bodies, since it would have been problematic if the other Harry and Hermione saw us. Also, we never would have been able to pass as them, especially with Harry's scar."
She stopped and looked at Harry, though not directly in his eyes. She seemed to be expecting him to chime in, but he just continued to glare at her. "When we go back in time, we'll need to use a Time Turner, so as not to disturb the bodies of the other Harry and Hermione," Hermione continued. "Then we'll jump into the portal back into our world and these bodies will just sort of... cease to exist. I was worried we might encounter my past self doing the same sort of thing, trying to get back home, but I've already done this twice and that didn't happen. I believe every time I come here, a separate world is created."
Harry's blood was boiling now. Hermione had it all figured out, didn't she? She had an explanation for everything. He wondered if she had an explanation for lying to him too.
Hermione lifted her head and met his eyes for the first time. They were swimming with guilt and sorrow, but he was too angry to care. She placed a hand on his arm and he jumped to his feet, tearing out of her grasp.
"Harry—"
"No," he said sharply, cutting her off, his voice breaking on the word.
He stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, eager to put as much distance between them as possible. When he reached his room, he threw the flap closed, annoyed when the only sound it made was an unsatisfying swish.
Harry was marching around the bedroom, pulling at his hair, as his brain cycled through all his favorite moments he'd shared with his parents on this trip, and how they were going to forget them. The first time he'd hugged each of them at their house in Godric's Hollow, when he'd flown with his dad in the Enchanted Forest, watching Hermione and his mum play with the Fire Lizards, the conversation he'd had with Lily later that night about kids.
Hermione appeared in the doorway, cowering, which made her look smaller than normal. Harry stopped to give her his most hateful glare, then resumed his pacing.
"Harry."
"Go away," he bit out.
"Harry, I'm sorry, but I thought—"
"Oh, so now you're going to tell me what you're thinking?!" he shouted. "It's too late! You've been keeping things from me this whole trip, only releasing details a little at a time, and I've been patient—I know you're used to keeping secrets, as an Unspeakable, but we've already established you're not one anymore and this—this is huge! You should have told me!"
"I thought it would be better if you didn't know!" she yelled back.
"Why do you do this?! Why do you act like I'm going to shatter at any moment?! I can handle hard things, Hermione. This whole trip you've been treating me more like a child than a partner."
"You're not my partner."
"Really? Shit. I'd forgotten," he said sarcastically.
"You know what? I think you have," she retorted.
Harry rolled his eyes. "This isn't about that. You know what I meant."
"Isn't it? You're telling me this sudden rash of anger has nothing to do with the other stuff?"
"You're deflecting. Now tell me, why are you like this? So closed off?"
She shrugged.
"Tell me!" he pressed.
"Oh, so now you're interested in my work," she said sardonically. "Normally when I start talking about anything more complicated than basic Charms, everyone in the room stops listening. 'There she goes again, spouting off random facts about house elves and Arithmancy formulas and Runes. I better start running through all the Quidditch plays I know.'"
"That's not fair—"
"When everyone tunes you out, you stop speaking up."
Had he done that? Yeah, probably. But still, it was beside the point. "Maybe that happens in a group," Harry countered, "but not when it's just you and me, like it's been this whole trip. If you gave me a chance instead of assuming I'm a prick, you'd see that I'm actually very attentive."
She crossed her arms over her chest and said snippily, "I wouldn't know. Before this trip, we never spent time alone. Then to go from that to—to what you said a few nights ago."
Harry tried to ignore how much the fact that she couldn't say the words hurt. "That I'm in love with you?" he provided, nastily.
She just sneered.
Harry summoned his anger again, drawing it around him like a cloak to protect him from the pain threatening to creep in at Hermione's dismissive attitude. "I know you blame me for that," Harry continued, "for us not being close before, but you're to blame there too."
Hermione sighed. "Are we really going to rehash this again?"
"You were right about some stuff. I was a shit friend and I took you for granted, but you weren't great either. You never reached out. You never told me you were upset and—"
"I'd had enough!" Hermione cried. "We already went over this! It's always me and I was sick of it always being me. I wanted you to do something for a change. I wanted you to notice! I wanted you to miss me! I wanted you to drop by my flat and say, 'Hey, what happened here? What can we do to fix it?'"
"What about Ron?" Harry asked.
"What about Ron?" she challenged.
"You accused me of being more forgiving toward Ron and it's the same for you, isn't it? I'm sure he's taken you for granted—I'm sure he's tuned you out, but you didn't put distance between the two of you. You were harsher on me than you were on him. Why?"
"He's my fiancé!" she cried.
"I fucking know that!" he shouted back. "But the point still stands that you didn't punish him for doing the same things I did! But you sure as hell punished me! You still are! And I think it's because you wanted to put distance here." He motioned to the space between them. "I think you felt something here, even back at home."
Hermione scoffed. "So much for not pressuring me into making a decision about us." She checked her watch. "That barely lasted an hour."
Harry ignored the jibe. "You've been moping because you're so sad and alone, but it's your own fault! You did that! I've been here, literally begging you to let me in, but you refuse. And yes, a lot of that is my fault, but some of it is yours. I think you got a hint of this…thing between us back in our world and I think you got scared. You pulled back and you waited to see if I would follow—"
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry spoke over her. "—and I was a prick and I didn't and you decided you were done. You drew a line here to protect yourself—," he gestured between them, "—but there's something there."
Harry sighed and took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He tentatively touched his fingers to her heart. "There's something here, fighting back. It's the thing that drove you to bring me here. The thing that made you see me in the mist, and no one else. The thing that caused you to kiss me when you woke up and sends you into my arms when you're feeling down."
Hermione lowered her eyes. Harry put the hand that was touching her shirt down and gripped her hand, entwining his fingers with hers.
"You think no one cares what you're thinking," he continued, his voice gentle now, "but you're wrong. I care. Do you know how much time I've spent trying to guess your thoughts over the past two weeks?"
Hermione kept her head down and looked up at him through her long lashes. She looked scared and hurt and he felt bad for yelling at her. She was right, as usual. His anger wasn't all about the secret she'd kept from him. He'd taken all the frustration that had been growing inside him for days and lashed out at her.
Harry took a deep, calming breath before continuing. "Tell me what you're thinking," he said softly. "I won't tune you out. It'll be the opposite, actually. I'll be listening intently." He cocked his head toward her backpack, which he knew held the notebook. "I may even take notes."
Hermione's lips turned up slightly. She looked down at their hands and thankfully, didn't pull hers away.
"What are you thinking, Hermione? Do you spend the seconds between breaths trying to avoid thoughts of me? How often do you think about our kiss? Do you want to do it again? Does it scare you how much?"
Harry reached for her other hand and linked their fingers together. "How much do you think about that missing thing you were searching for back at home? The thing that drove you to become an Unspeakable. Have you considered the possibility that it wasn't some unknowable force of magic you were trying to discover, but simply the fact that you were with the wrong wizard, in the wrong job, living the wrong type of life?"
"Harry," she whispered. Hermione was looking at him now, her eyes wide and pleading as silent tears streamed down her face. She didn't seem to have anything else to add.
"What'll be different when we go back?" Harry asked. "Are you going to stay with Ron? Are you going to put real distance between us? Try to cut me out completely, or perhaps move somewhere I can't follow?"
She shook her head slowly, then looked back down at their hands. "No," she breathed.
They were quiet for several moments, then Hermione repeated, louder this time, "No." Her eyes snapped back up to his face.
"You said you needed me in your life to be happy and it's the same for me, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." She pulled him into a firm hug. "Please don't worry about me. I know this thing between us is weighing on you but try to let it go—at least for the next day. You already admitted that you're cross with me for taking up so much of your thoughts and you're right to be. We're going to be fine and this... situation, or whatever we're calling it—we can figure out back at home."
She leaned back and placed her hands on his face. "Let's focus on your parents for the rest of the trip. Okay?"
"You're deflecting again."
She smiled. "I know. But I think that's the right thing to do, for now."
"Just tell me why."
Hermione pulled her hands away from his face and stepped back. "I've already told you."
"Because you don't trust me. You don't think I'm telling the truth. You think I'm lying about how I feel about you and will change my mind once we're back."
"I think you're going through a lot right now and would prefer to discuss this when we're back in our time, after you've had a chance to process this whole trip and—and everything," Hermione countered.
"Yeah." Harry sat on the bed and lowered his head into his hands. "I hate how logical you are," he groaned.
"I get that a lot."
Harry turned his head toward Hermione. "Is this really the only way?" he asked in a broken voice.
She nodded sadly. "It's best if we don't leave a trace on this world. I'm so sorry, Harry. It's the safest way. I don't know what's happening with the other Harry and Hermione and would hate if they're unable to return to their bodies after we leave for some reason."
Harry snorted. "Yeah. The other Harry." He sighed. "Can I tell you something I've been thinking about lately?"
Hermione leaned back on her hands. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
"I've been thinking a lot about the other Harry, especially as the trip is coming to an end. And I hate the fucking wanker—for obvious reasons—but lately…I've been rethinking things. I thought he was immature and naïve, and I couldn't bring myself to respect the bloke much. On the other hand, he picked an incredible partner, he put her first, and he never left her wondering if he really loves her. So I guess…I don't know. I guess he's not as thick as I thought."
Hermione sat up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I thought we were going to defer these types of conversations until we're back."
Harry shrugged. "I never agreed to that. But—yeah—we should. You're right, of course. I just—wanted to get that last one off my chest."
Hermione nodded. She chewed her lip for several seconds, then leaned forward and rested her forehead on her hand, which was still on his shoulder. "You had a lot more going on than the other Harry. I've actually been wondering about him, too, but for different reasons. I've been wondering why Hermione likes him, because some of the things I love and respect most about you are a result of your circumstances, and how you managed to rise above them."
She lifted her head and found him watching her, his green eyes intense. She thought of his joke about listening to her so intently, he might start taking notes and smiled inwardly.
"I'm sure this Harry is nice and all," Hermione continued, "but I prefer the one who was raised with nothing and craved acceptance when he first arrived at school, yet still refused Malfoy's friendship. The one who was beaten down by the world, one blow after another, but who still walked into the forest, willing to give his life to save it. The other Harry didn't do that. You did. And I think you should be proud."
Tears welled in Harry's eyes. How was this fair? How was she allowed to say things like that one moment, then claim she had no feelings for him the next? How had he missed this back at home?
Her voice echoed in his mind, in response. "You had a lot more going on than the other Harry."
No fucking shit, his own voice said in reply. But because of all that, he'd missed the signs. He hadn't seen what was right in front of him and it might already be too late. He'd missed her. He'd just add it to the long list of things he'd lost because Voldemort had decided that prophecy applied to him and not Neville.
He was crying fully now as his thoughts drifted back to his parents, who he'd have to say goodbye to soon. Hermione was right, he should be focusing on them, but a part of him was probably fixating on this thing with Hermione to avoid doing just that. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. No matter what, they'd always be friends. She'd confirmed it several times. But his parents…they would leave him. Again.
The darkness that had been hovering at the edges, threatening for days to break through the barriers he'd erected, finally overtook him. Harry shook as sobs tore through his body. He felt Hermione fold herself around him and tried to focus on her warmth. "I'm…a…a…fuck—fucking mess," he managed to say between sobs.
"It's perfectly reasonable for you to be a fucking mess," she replied calmly. "You are in an insane situation, Harry."
He continued to sob and Hermione started rubbing his back, murmuring in his ear about how strong he was. How he'd endured so much pain and come through it whole and how he could do it again. How he would do it again.
She apologized for not telling him about his parents and how they would forget their time together. She said that just because they wouldn't have a memory of it, didn't mean it wasn't real. This tiny two-week loop they'd created in this universe would remain a part of existence, no matter what happened.
"Is me being here helping or hurting?" she asked after several moments.
"I don't fucking know," Harry admitted.
"Okay. I'll stay, then."
Harry looked up at her. He was a little surprised to find that she'd been crying, too, though not as violently as he had been. "How am I supposed to say goodbye?" he asked, his voice so small and weak, he barely recognized it.
"I don't know, Harry. But we've done impossible things before and we can do it again."
Harry leaned into her, pressing his face into her shirt, which was nice and soft. He breathed in her scent and tried to use her closeness to steady him.
"We never placed any Charms around the room," she said after a while. "They'll have heard all the shouting."
"Doesn't matter. They're going to forget it all, anyway," Harry mumbled into her chest.
Hermione wrapped her arms around him. "I think it's too soon for that one."
He laughed darkly. "Yeah. You're probably right."
When Harry and Hermione returned downstairs a while later, after Harry claimed he was officially out of tears, they found Lily and James waiting for them. They were sitting on the couch, James in the spot Hermione had recently occupied and Lily in Harry's seat, with her legs stretched out over James's lap.
Lily shifted when she looked over her shoulder and saw Harry and Hermione standing there, then placed her feet back on the ground. "Oh, good. You're back. We have something to tell you."
"Oh. Er—okay," Harry said warily, wondering if he could take any more unexpected news today.
"This is for Hermione, not you," Lily said, obviously picking up on his uneasiness.
Harry let out a sigh of relief as Hermione stepped forward.
"We're going with you," Lily said simply.
"What do you mean? There would be nowhere for you to go. Uh—I don't mean to sound indelicate, but your bodies are decaying underground. Who knows what would happen if—"
"Not there," James said, cutting her off. "We're going back in time with you. We've decided. We'll go back to the past, retain all the memories of our time with you, then redo the trip with the other Harry and Hermione."
"You decided?" Hermione shook her head. "That won't even work. You can't use the Time Turner because then your bodies would be copied and—"
"We're going to use the method of time travel that works without bringing our bodies with us. The one you were explaining before," Lily said. "Our minds will take over the past James and Lily's bodies, like you did when you came to this world."
"Yes," James said firmly, rising from his seat and moving to stand in front of them. Lily joined him a few seconds later.
"You're not allowed to decide," Hermione declared. "I'm the Unspeakable here and I—"
"You're not an Unspeakable in this world," James interrupted. "In this world, we're the parents, and we're in charge. We've decided that in two days, we're all going to go to the Department of Mysteries. You're going to show us the time portal and Lily and I will use it to travel back to our bodies from two weeks ago. You and Harry will use a Time Turner to travel back to that same time, then we'll meet up and say a final goodbye before you two go back to your world."
"After that," Lily added, "we'll return home to meet the other Harry and Hermione for dinner."
"You don't understand," Hermione said, looking thoroughly exasperated. "This is dangerous. No one knows the long-term effects of—"
"We're willing to take the risk," Lily said simply.
"You could suffer from dissociative issues down the line. Your younger consciousness could threaten to creep back in and—"
"We don't want to hear it," Lily said, raising her voice to be heard over Hermione. "We're going back in time, we're going to remember, end of discussion." Lily stepped forward and raised a hand to Harry's cheek. "I don't care what the risks are. I refuse to forget you. I'm going to think about you every day."
As it turned out, Harry did have more tears left to shed, but only a few. Lily wiped them away with her thumbs as soon as they fell onto his cheeks. "Thanks," he whispered.
Lily smiled and kissed his cheek.
Then Harry looked at Hermione and gave her his most endearing look. She rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that," she scowled, but it was half-hearted.
"Please?" he mouthed.
"Fine," she sighed. "But I don't approve, for the record. I think this is dangerous and—"
"We heard you before," James cut in. Lily stepped to the side and James took her place, giving Harry's shoulder a firm squeeze. "You okay?"
Harry shrugged. "Yeah. I just spent an hour shouting and crying about something that's not even happening—but —er—I've been worse."
James let out a laugh. "We were shouting and crying too if that makes you feel better. You just couldn't hear us over your yelling." James stepped back and addressed the whole group. "Shall we have dinner, then? Or lunch or, whatever it is? Then we have a song to hear, don't we?"
He didn't bother waiting for confirmation from Hermione, who was still seething from having been so thoroughly overruled. As she followed Harry and his parents into the kitchen, Harry heard her muttering under her breath about "stubborn Potters." He turned around and beamed at her and when he caught her eye, she grudgingly returned his smile.
