The Tear
April 2002
"It looks like they're moving," Ron said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Harry replied, struggling to get the word out through the lump in his throat. The pillars in the room were just as he remembered, haphazard in their placement and tilted in all different directions, making them look like they were swaying, just as Ron had said.
Hermione, who was tucked under his arm, nestled further into his side as Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "You okay, mate?"
Harry nodded. "Okay," didn't cover it, but he didn't think any words would be able to describe the torrent of feelings inside him. The weight on his heart that appeared every time he turned and expected to see his parents, then remembered they were gone. The way the hairs on his arms stood on end at the intense familiarity of the whole place, which was eerie and comforting all at once. The cold longing in his chest as he remembered them, coupled with the warmth that spread through him as he thought of them remembering him.
He looked down and saw Hermione watching him. Her brown eyes were warm but also lined with tears. She knew, he could tell. Even though he couldn't put it into words, and would probably never be able to explain it properly to Ron, Hermione knew. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Ron averted his gaze, focusing back on the dark archway in front of them. "Shall we?" he asked once he saw Harry and Hermione looking back at him.
They nodded.
"What's on the other side?"
"It's impossible to describe," Harry replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I would say the room we're about to enter is both the most uplifting and depressing place I've ever visited," Hermione supplied.
"Helpful," Ron said as he turned back toward the archway. He took a breath before stepping into the darkness.
Harry and Hermione waited before following Ron. Harry could feel the irritation of the people behind them in queue, who didn't realize there was just another queue on the other side, but he needed a moment.
Hermione lifted up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You've got this, Harry."
He squeezed her against his side. "How are you doing?"
"Good."
"Really?"
"Well, no," she allowed. "But not bad. I'm okay. Really."
He smiled, understanding that she was struggling just as much as he was to describe how she was feeling. "Okay then. I guess we should go."
They stepped through the archway and reappeared in a large, bright tunnel that was glittering with glass memory tiles. Harry felt a pang in his chest as the brief glimmer of hope that his parents would be on the other side flickered out, just as fast as it had appeared. It wasn't his parents standing in the tunnels, but the Weasleys. All of them. Well, almost all of them.
The only Weasleys missing were Fleur, who was back at Shell Cottage with Victoire, and little Molly, Percy and Audrey's baby, who they'd left with Audrey's parents. Everyone else was here, standing in the sparkling tunnel and looking at Harry and Hermione expectantly.
As soon as word got out that Ron and George were planning to visit Fred through a Tear in the Veil, everyone in the Weasley family began inviting themselves on the trip. Charlie had taken a Portkey straight from Romania to join them and even Ginny had put her grudge against Harry and Hermione aside to come along.
Harry had gone to visit her last week, just to be sure she knew what to expect from the trip. She was living in a flat in Hermione's old building, which was ironic, since the whole time Ginny had been living with Harry at Grimmauld Place, she'd been lying to Mrs. Weasley, claiming she was living with Hermione in her flat. And now, she really did live in that building. Luckily, Ginny had moved in after Hermione had gone to live with Harry, so they didn't have to run into her.
The conversation with Ginny had been awkward, to say the least. It was the first time they'd spoken since that disastrous dinner at the Burrow, and the first time they'd been alone together since their breakup. He'd explained that he was with Hermione and that on the trip to Egypt, he wasn't planning to hide that fact. It would be an emotional trip for both he and Hermione and, honestly, anyone who decided to go, and he expected he'd be leaning on Hermione for support both literally and figuratively.
He explained he wouldn't be doing it to rub the relationship in Ginny's face or make her feel bad, but said that he wasn't going to push Hermione away and pretend they weren't together just to make Ginny feel better, either. He'd finished by saying Ginny was welcome to come and that he thought she'd get a lot out of talking to Fred.
She'd listened quietly through his whole spiel and by the end, silent tears were streaming down her face. "I can handle it," she said. "I would put up with much worse than that to see Fred again."
Harry had nodded and taken her continued silence as an invitation to leave. When he was at the door with his hand on the knob she said, "Thank you for—warning me. And I—I understand that you wouldn't rub it in on purpose. That's not you, is it? Or her, for that matter."
It was the most civil thing she'd said to him since their breakup. Even though it looked like it had pained her to say it, he'd taken it as a good sign. Maybe one day they could get past this.
And so far, Ginny had been fine. All the Weasleys had been fine, even Molly. They'd accepted Hermione as the leader of the trip without complaint, though Harry guessed the deft way she'd guided them to the Sphinx, followed by the no-nonsense debrief she'd given the group about what to expect inside, along with pointers about how to get past the Sphinx, had helped her gain their respect.
This time, as in the other world, the Sphinx had only stopped Harry and Hermione, making them solve a riddle each before letting them inside. Harry was beginning to suspect the Sphinx stopped anyone who wasn't sure about visiting the Tear in the Veil. Or, in his and Hermione's case, people who had no intention of visiting it.
In response to a question from Arthur, Hermione had launched into an explanation about the memory tiles and how to make one, which pulled Harry's attention out of his thoughts and back to the sparkling room, where ten Weasleys were facing him and Hermione. After Hermione finished speaking and everyone dispersed, busying themselves with placing memories on the empty glass tiles, Harry kissed her on the side of her head.
"You're incredible," he whispered.
She beamed up at him, then cocked her head toward the rest of the group, who were distracted by the memory tiles. "Do you want to make some?"
Harry nodded as he pulled his wand out of his pocket. "I was thinking we could put those memories we made in the other world here. The one of the Order and—er—Dumbledore—" his voice caught on the name. "Since, erm, they were erased with that time travel we did, right?"
"Not technically erased. They exist on that small loop we created, but I know what you mean. It's a good idea." She stepped out of his grasp so she could remove her wand from her jacket. Harry immediately felt empty without her tucked under his arm.
Hermione recreated the memory from Grimmauld Place, putting it in a tile near the bottom, just as she had in the other world. Harry's chest clenched as he heard Sirius and Lupin laugh together at something Moody had said, which by the stern look on his scarred face, hadn't been meant as a joke. Harry blinked quickly, then swallowed hard before touching his wand to a tile above his head, where he put the memory of Dumbledore.
"We need to make one for your parents, now," Hermione said softly.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. That was his plan all along. He'd been thinking of which memory to go with during their walk through the other room and had finally landed on the one of James and Lily acting like children at Giant's Gulch, when James had made Lily jump off the cliff against her will.
He crouched down and placed the memory of his parents splashing around in the water right next to the memory Hermione had made with Sirius in it. Harry watched the memory through twice before pulling his gaze away. He was about to stand up when Hermione caught his arm, forcing him to stay crouched down. He watched her tap the glass to the right of the tile he'd made and after a few seconds, the image of his parents in the Department of Mysteries appeared.
Lily was standing at the end of the hall of mirrors, laughing at her reflection. "Oh, dear! I look just like my Great Grandmum."
James joined her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well, that is a very good-looking old couple." She laughed, then kissed his cheek.
"Now they can grow old together in this world, too," Hermione explained.
Tears welled in Harry's eyes as he saw the older version of his parents reflected in the mirror. He remembered feeling a pang of sorrow at the thought that they'd never have the chance to age together in this world but now that he was back here, so far away from the other Lily and James, that truth hit him so much harder. But this—this was brilliant. One image of his parents behaving like children, simply enjoying life, and another of them growing old together, even if it was just a trick of the enchanted mirrors.
"It's perfect," Harry replied in a shaky whisper.
She reached forward and wiped away the tears that had collected on his lower lashes with her thumb. He saw that she looked on the verge of tears too. "Are you sure you don't want to see them today?" she whispered as he helped her up.
Harry shook his head. "If I knew I'd just see Sirius today, or Lupin, I'd do it. I'd go to the Veil. But I—I can't see them, Hermione. I—I can't—" His voice cracked.
"I know," she said soothingly. "I know, Harry. I just wanted to make sure. Believe me, I understand. You don't have to explain."
Harry placed his hands on either side of her face before kissing her softly. As their lips touched, he felt a few of her tears fall onto his hands.
Several feet away, Ginny watched them. Something turned in her stomach at the sight of Harry and Hermione kissing. Hearing about it was one thing but seeing it was something else entirely. The odd thing was, she couldn't even be angry about it. Harry looked broken, they both did, and it was clear this display of affection wasn't for show, or pleasure, or… anything like that. It was just as Ron had told her a few days ago.
"Wait until you see them together. It's strange how well they fit together, like each one is exactly what the other needs. Makes me feel stupid for not realizing it earlier. It also makes it hard to hate them since they're so clearly supposed to be together. You'll see."
Ginny bit her lip and looked back at the glass tile she'd created. It was a memory from the summer before she'd started at Hogwarts. She and Fred had spent the day flying while the others had been stuck helping their mum with the garden. She didn't remember how she and Fred had escaped the chore, but was sure he'd been the mastermind behind the coup. It was one of the only memories she had of the two of them alone together.
She took a deep breath as she braced herself for what was to come. They'd decided to visit the Tear in the Veil in pairs. Her parents would go first, followed by George and Angelina, Percy and Audrey, Ginny and Ron, Charlie and Bill, and finally, Harry and Hermione. Ginny was glad she was going with Ron. He knew what she was going through better than anyone and would understand if she dissolved into a mess of tears at the sight of Fred.
A strong arm wrapped around her. She turned to find Bill looking down at her. "Hi," she breathed.
"Proud of you, Gin. I know this is hard for you." He cocked his head toward Harry and Hermione, who were no longer kissing, but were still clinging to each other like their lives depended on it.
Hermione noticed Ginny watching her and gave her a curt nod in acknowledgment. She was clearly trying to seem detached, but Ginny knew Hermione well enough to know it was a defense mechanism. She was barely holding it together, like everyone else. She may even be worse off than the rest of them, since she seemed to be trying to shoulder not just her own pain, but Harry's too.
Ginny sighed, then whispered back, "They're not doing it on purpose."
Bill gave her a small smile.
Fall's End
October 2002
Hermione shrieked internally as Harry rode over a fallen log, launching them several feet into the air. She tightened her grip on him, digging her hands into his chest in warning. Harry placed a hand on hers that she thought was meant to be comforting, but just put her more on edge, since he really should keep both hands on the handlebars of the ancient motorbike he was driving.
She turned her head and could just make out Ron behind them, but it was hard to see much with the helmet blocking her vision. She forced herself to relax and focus on breathing through the tube in her mouth. They'd be there soon.
The bike she and Harry were sitting on sputtered again and she gripped him even tighter. He pulled on her arm. Oops, she was hurting him. "Sorry," she said, though the word came out garbled through her mouthpiece, and he wouldn't hear it over the loud sound of the motorbike or through the helmet she was wearing.
Then, she felt a rumbling in his chest. That prat was laughing at her, wasn't he? If they could communicate, he'd probably tell her this was all her fault, which wouldn't be wrong—though he'd played a big part in it too.
It all started a few months ago when Harry asked her how she would have made it to Fall's End without James's help. What had followed was a lot of research. The most obvious solution was aqua lungs, but as Hermione had told Harry back in Fourth Year, Muggle devices like that went haywire around magic. And the magic surrounding the falls was obviously powerful, since it was able to counter other people's magic.
There were spells that could be cast on Muggle technology so it would work in the presence of magic, the problem was, the protections around the falls rendered spells like that useless. Hermione had been stuck for a few weeks pondering the problem until she'd finally had a breakthrough.
"Aqua lungs," she'd announced proudly over dinner one day.
"You said they wouldn't work," Harry pointed out. "You said they'd go haywire in the presence of such powerful magic."
"I know. And I was right. If I went and bought a set of aqua lungs from the store right now and tried them, they wouldn't work. But if I made a set myself, modeled after the original pair that was invented in the 1800s, they would."
"What? Why?"
"It's not all Muggle devices that don't function around magic, just electronics which, these days, are in almost all Muggle devices. But magic does not affect basic mechanics. So, following that same logic, an old car would work in the mist too. One propelled by a classic gas engine, without all the fancy electronics cars have now. So what I would do is make a pair of aqua lungs, fix up an old car, and drive the car straight to the base of the waterfall. It would take ten minutes, tops."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, then shot her a beaming smile. "You're brilliant." Before she could thank him, he followed it up with, "Let's do it."
"What? No."
"Why not? It's the one Wonder we never made it to. Aren't you a little curious to see what this enlightenment is all about?"
Finding a classic car with an engine that was completely powered by mechanics was a lot harder than Hermione thought it would be. So they'd switched out the car with old dirt bikes, which already had simple engines that would be easier to transport anyway. Harry still had to do a few modifications and surprised both of them with his inherent understanding of how all the pieces fit together and his knack for tinkering with the engine.
And now, here they were, zooming through the misty forest at a breakneck pace on rusty motorbikes as they wore helmets (which Hermione had insisted on, since they wouldn't be able to protect themselves with magic if they fell), and breathed clean air through the aqua lungs Hermione had constructed (again, with a lot of help from Harry).
Hermione knew they looked ridiculous but so far, they hadn't run into anyone. And it was certainly a more efficient way to reach the falls than whatever strategy that Australian couple had been using in the other world, which after two weeks still hadn't proven successful.
The sight of the trees whipping past them was making Hermione dizzy, especially when coupled with that empty feeling of having no access to her magic that she hated. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing through the mouthpiece. Then, a minute later, the bike came to an abrupt stop. She opened her eyes just in time to see Harry throwing his leg out to catch them.
"Oi! Fuck!" She turned and saw Ron and his bike topple over. He'd turned just in time to avoid riding into the water, but hadn't managed to catch himself as Harry had. He crashed to the ground and she saw his mouthpiece pop out of his mouth.
"Ron!" she cried, though it came out distorted through her mouthpiece. Hermione jumped off the bike and ran to his side, feeling her magic return to her as she crossed the distance between them. She was trying to come up with a plan to get Ron's unconscious form safely out, reaching for the paper she'd placed in her pocket with the coordinates of the safe spots they'd discovered with Lily and James, when Ron sat up and pulled his helmet off his head.
"That was brilliant! Can we do that again?"
The mist hadn't affected him? How?
"Hermione!" Harry shouted to be heard over the roaring water. She turned to find him behind her. He'd taken his helmet and mouthpiece out and was smiling widely. "It's safe! We made it!"
She looked around and for the first time, noticed the breathtaking view around them. The area was free of mist, which was hovering at the edge of the forest, making a sort of wall. It was almost as if the force of the waterfall, which was creating a cool wind, had pushed it back. The water was crashing into a large pool, which cascaded around to several smaller pools, making dozens of smaller waterfalls. The sound was deafening, so she cast a Silencing Charm, happy to feel her magic coursing through her veins again.
Hermione took her helmet off and placed her aqualungs on the ground, then turned to find Harry and Ron watching the scene with awe. "I can't believe that worked," Ron said, his mouth hanging open slightly.
Hermione shook her head as she turned back to the enormous waterfall. She knew he'd doubted the Muggle methods she and Harry had suggested. But she wasn't surprised it had worked. It was just science and it seemed fitting, in a way. Just like how parts of all the Wonders, like this waterfall, weren't created by magic, but by nature, which seemed just as powerful as magic sometimes.
"Ready?" Harry asked. He was at her side and had snaked an arm around her waist.
"I know we've been planning this for ages, but now that it's time, I'm suddenly nervous," she admitted.
"What do we do?" Ron asked. "Just—drink?"
Hermione shrugged. "There's alarmingly little documented evidence of people finding enlightenment and how the process works. But one thing every source seemed to agree on was that drinking the water at the base of the falls would lead you to enlightenment."
Hermione conjured a glass and bent over to dip it into the pool of water at their feet. "Who wants to go first?" she asked, turning to face Harry and Ron.
"Witches first," Ron said, looking at the water warily. It swirled in the glass innocently, looking no more powerful than normal water.
Hermione gulped and was about to raise the glass to her lips when Harry pulled it toward him. "I'll go first." She gave him a relieved smile and watched him take a tentative sip from the glass. His eyes glazed over and she could tell whatever he was seeing was different from the scene around them.
She began to panic, then his gaze was lucid again. "Well?" she asked.
He frowned, confused, then took another sip from the water. His eyes went blank again but this time when he came to, he was smiling.
"What is it?" she cried. "What did you see?"
Harry burst into laughter. Hermione and Ron exchanged concerned glances.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
He simply laughed, throwing his head back and she was starting to think the water had made him mad. She glared at the glass of water in his hand as panic rose in her chest. "Harry James Potter!" she cried. "Tell us what's going on, this instant!"
Her shout finally seemed to snap him out of his fit. "It's the mist," he said, still smiling.
"What's the mist?"
"Here, drink, you'll see."
Hermione glowered at the glass, then took a sip. Her mind clouded with an image of the forest, the thick mist billowing through the trees. When her vision cleared, she saw Harry watching her, expectantly. Then she got it. The mist. The bloody mist!
All that difficulty trying to reach the base of the waterfall, which was near impossible, was the bloody point! Because they weren't meant to make it here. No one was meant to succeed. They were meant to inhale the mist and see their darkest fears and through that, find enlightenment. Find what was truly important to them.
"Bollocks," she swore.
An hour later, they were still at the base of the waterfall. Hermione was running all the diagnostic spells she knew on the magic in the area, determined to glean some sort of knowledge from this otherwise useless trip, while Ron and Harry sat on a rock at the other end of the pool, kicking their feet in the water.
"It wasn't a complete waste," Ron said. "Those bikes are pretty cool. A lot more fun than I thought they'd be."
"Yeah. Especially when you don't have to wear aqualungs and a helmet. We should drive them around in that field outside the Burrow when we're back."
Ron hummed in agreement.
"You really don't want to inhale the mist?" Harry asked.
"Fuck no," Ron replied. "I know my deepest fear—losing all my friends and family. I don't need to see that play out for hours."
Harry snorted. "Yeah. Me neither."
They were quiet for a few moments, watching Hermione studying the swirl of floating runes hovering in the air in front of her. "Er, I wanted to ask you something," Harry began.
Ron just nodded for him to continue.
"When we go to the Enchanted Forest this winter, I'm—erm—going to propose."
Ron's chest tightened, but he kept his face blank and facing forward. "Yeah. Figured that was coming up."
"Yeah? You don't think it's too soon? I mean—we don't have to talk about this if you don't want. I get that. But— it will have only been a year since we got together but I think it feels right, then again, I've proven to have issues in this area and—"
"It's not too soon," Ron said quickly, his voice coming out rougher than he'd meant it to. He knew this was coming. And, honestly, he didn't want to be with Hermione. They weren't that compatible and she was so obviously meant for Harry but still, it hurt. He was over it, mostly, and the sight of Harry and Hermione together didn't bother him as much as it used to. It was just a dull ache now. But watching them marry each other? Yeah, that was going to hurt.
Harry hummed and dropped his head. "Sorry."
Ron just nudged his side and grunted slightly. "Um, you said you had a question. Did you—uh—need something? Or were you just wondering if it was too soon?"
Please don't ask for my help, please don't ask for my help, Ron chanted silently in his mind.
Harry cleared his throat nervously. "No. That was it. I just wanted to—er—warn you."
Ron nodded tersely. He was ready for this conversation to be over and cast around for something else to say. "I wonder who Ginny will date when she finds out. Perhaps Lucius fucking Malfoy this time."
Harry let out a laugh, even though it wasn't funny. And Merlin, he hoped Ron was wrong. A month ago, Ginny had started dating Draco Malfoy, of all people. Everyone was pretty clear on Malfoy's motivation behind the odd pairing. He was rebelling against his father, who wanted to uphold the Pureblood traditions, while Malfoy wanted to move the family in a more progressive direction.
Dating Ginny accomplished a lot of things for Malfoy: he got to upset his father, show the world he was willing to put aside past prejudices, and date a beautiful witch. But no one understood why Ginny was going along with it. She'd always been ambitious. Maybe dating Malfoy could get her farther in her career, perhaps because of the boost in notoriety she'd achieved. Maybe she was doing it to upset Harry (like Ron thought), or maybe she actually liked the bloke (this was the least likely option).
"She's not dating him to upset me," Harry said for the fiftieth time. He was pretty sure this was true. He and Ginny weren't friends, not by any means, but they did see each other regularly and during those interactions, he'd never got the sense she was pining over him. She seemed to have accepted the inevitability of him and Hermione being together.
"A fucking ferret with my sister!" Ron groaned.
Harry nodded. They'd had this conversation a lot of times. "Maybe it was meant," he joked, trying to turn the conversation somewhere lighter. "Aren't ferrets related to weasels somehow?"
The comment was met with a splash of water.
"How about I go tell Hermione what you have planned for December?"
Harry held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. Malfoy's the worst. Death to ferrets. Let's devise a plan to break them up," he recited dutifully.
Ron let out a snort. He rubbed his wet palms over his face. Harry and Hermione were getting married, Ginny was with a fucking Death Eater. He let out another laugh, louder this time. Fuck, a lot had changed in just a year, hadn't it? And if he couldn't laugh about it, he'd go mad.
The Forgotten City
November 2003
Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Charlie were sitting on a fallen log at the top of a floating island in the sky. It was the same log Harry had sat on with James in another world as they'd watched his mum and Hermione play with Fire Lizards. He'd been snubbed by the small dragons again today, as had Ron, Ginny, and Charlie, the latter of whom wasn't taking it well.
"I deal with dragons every day. I'm the only one at the Sanctuary who managed to soothe our Chinese Fireball last week. She even let me near her eggs! But these infernal creatures nearly bite my fingers off!"
Harry was trying to keep from laughing at Charlie's tirade as he watched Hermione and Ron's new girlfriend, Nora, feed the Fire Lizards chunks of meat from a pouch that Mei, Zhihao's sister, was holding out for them.
"Should I be offended I was the only witch not chosen?" Ginny asked when Charlie was finally finished with his rant.
"It's not a witch or wizard thing," Harry said, recalling how Zhihao had described it. "Our other guide said it had to do with quiet power and strength of heart. It's also meant to be really rare."
"So this is a good sign?" Ron asked. "I mean … Nora. Enchanting the little dragons. I reckon that means she's pretty good, yeah?"
Harry smiled at him. Ron had met Nora, who was a Healer at St. Mungo's, a few months ago while they'd been preparing their testimonies for a high-profile case. He was still in that new phase of his relationship where he was nervous about everything. Just inviting Nora to come on the trip had given Ron hives, which had only worsened when she'd accepted. Luckily, Hermione knew a spell to remove the blotchiness in his skin.
"I think it means you have a type," Ginny teased. She looked to Harry to see how he'd react to the joke, but he just shrugged. She was right. Even though Ron had dated loads of witches, he'd only ever had two serious girlfriends and they both seemed to have the rare ability to charm Fire Lizards.
Harry couldn't keep his mind from drifting to the conversation he'd had with his father in this very spot, worlds away.
"We may not have the quiet Fire Lizard powers the girls have, but we Potter men have a special power of our own. We're able to get remarkable witches, who are way too good for us, to fall in love with us. Also, impossibly untidy hair."
Harry smiled to himself. Ron, who'd been watching him, gave him an understanding nod. Ron was used to this by now. This was the fourth Wonder of the World he'd visited with Harry and he knew what it looked like when he was remembering his parents. He'd get a distant look in his eyes, quickly followed by the expression he was wearing now, a mix of affection and despair. But it usually passed quickly.
"I think it means you should marry her," Harry added, forcing a smile onto his face. "I mean, here's proof she's stronger than you. You may want to lock that down."
"It's only been a few months," Ron retorted. He was trying to make a show of irritation, but couldn't keep the goofy smile from playing across his lips as he watched Nora. "Though, at the rate you're going," Ron continued, "I might still beat you down the aisle."
Harry flipped him off while Ginny let out a nervous laugh. Charlie was focused on the Fire Lizards, not paying attention to them.
Ron was right. Harry and Hermione were taking their time getting married. She'd accepted his proposal immediately (almost a whole year ago, now), but when he'd pressed her to start planning the wedding, she'd pushed back, claiming they had nothing but time. It wasn't until a few days ago that he'd finally convinced her to set a date.
He'd been hurt, at first, assuming Hermione's reluctance had to do with lingering doubt about his commitment to her. He'd brooded for a few weeks until she'd finally forced him to tell her what was bothering him. They'd had a rather painful talk where Hermione had struggled to articulate her feelings through heavy sobs and Harry had been horrified for a few moments that she was trying to break up with him. In the end, though, he'd got at the crux of the matter. She was terrified.
It didn't have to do with him or any uneasiness about either of their feelings. She was, simply put, desperately afraid of losing him and was worried if they made any sudden movements, the strong relationship they'd sort of stumbled into would crumble. She'd been put off by how easy it had been. How seamlessly they'd slipped into an unshakeable partnership.
He'd pointed out that the relationship may have been easy but getting there was fucking hard. She'd just nodded, unconvinced. And he got it. Everything in their lives had been hard, so it was difficult to accept when things just worked. Hermione was waiting for something to go wrong. And that was why she wanted to tip-toe toward the wedding, as if hoping to catch it by surprise. It was also why she insisted they keep it small, which Harry didn't mind.
He was relieved she'd finally picked a date but honestly, he would have waited longer. They lived together, Teddy was over all the time and Hermione was brilliant with him, they'd already talked about having a family one day, and she had a job she liked and didn't care that Harry didn't have one and was content to spend most of his time helping her with her work or looking after the house and Teddy. He loved their life. It was perfect. And one day, they'd get married and that would be great, but it wouldn't change very much.
Harry's attention was pulled back to the present by sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Charlie stood up from the log and went to the edge of the floating island, where several dragons, including a mother and her young, were flying by. Ron and Ginny shared a smile. It was amusing seeing their usually calm brother so irritated, but they knew watching rare dragons fly by would calm him.
"It is sort of sad the Fire Lizards didn't pick him," Ginny said. "He would have loved that."
Ron nodded, then got a wicked gleam in his eye. "You know who would have never been chosen?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. Draco. Hah hah. Are you ever going to let that go?! It was nothing! Three months. Just a little blip."
"You're still calling him Draco!"
"He was my boyfriend! I got used to calling him by his name."
"I thought he was just a blip," Ron countered.
Ginny glowered at him and Harry saw her hand twitch toward her wand. "Can we talk about something besides Malfoy?" Harry suggested.
Ron and Ginny glared at each other for a few more moments before mumbling, "Fine," at the same time.
An awkward silence settled over them. Harry had no idea what to say and wished Charlie would come back, but he seemed distracted by the dragons. Eventually, he asked, "How's Quidditch?" while Ginny asked at the same time, "How's the wedding planning?"
They laughed nervously. "Um, how about you go first?" she said. "We can get the more awkward one out of the way."
"Yeah—er—okay." Harry's eyes flashed to Ron, who was enjoying this way too much. "Remember when I called our wedding a party and—erm—nearly lost a limb?"
"I do," Ginny replied with a tight smile.
"Right, er, we finally have a date now—March 2nd, not that's, um, good. And we know what we want the ceremony to be like but the rest of it—Hermione keeps referring to it like a big party we're obligated to put on for our friends and mostly just sees it as an annoying chore, so I'm planning most of it which means it's probably going to be pretty simple. So—uh—it's really different from, um, the other wedding."
"She never called our wedding a party," Ron said smugly.
Harry flipped him off again.
Ginny didn't say anything. She was watching Hermione and Nora again, her expression unreadable. Harry followed Ginny's gaze and smiled when he saw a familiar-looking gold Fire Lizard perched on Hermione's shoulder with a tail wrapped around her neck. He wondered if it was the same Lizard that had attached itself to her in the other world.
Hermione beamed when she saw Harry looking at her and cocked her head toward the miniature gold dragon. He assumed that was the answer to his question but before he could ask her, her attention was pulled back to Nora, who had managed to coax a green Fire Lizard onto her thigh.
Harry could see Ginny watching him out of the corner of his eye. He took a breath before shifting to meet her eyes, unsure what he was going to see there. The look on her face was complicated, a mixture of pain, acceptance, sorrow, anger, and hope.
"I get it," Ginny whispered hoarsely. She cut off, unable to get any more words out. Harry usually only had silent conversations with Hermione (which, in hindsight, should have been a big clue for Ginny). Sometimes he and Ron managed to pass a few, short words with a shared glance, but Ginny and Harry had never mastered it. But she tried it now, anyway, because she wanted him to know, but couldn't bring herself to speak the words.
She tried to say with her eyes, "I get it. I needed two years and several boyfriends—including Draco Malfoy, who had nothing to do with you, by the way. I needed a few international assignments and time away from you, but I got there in the end. This was the right thing for us. And I'll probably always feel angry when I think of it, and we'll probably never get back to being proper friends, but I get it."
His nodded. He'd understood. At least, most of it, which was enough. Ginny nudged Harry's arm before sighing and turning back to Ron.
"Harry's right. You should marry Nora. There's no way you're ever going to find anyone better. It's a wonder you found her in the first place. Was it a love potion? You need to lock that down before she realizes—ahh!"
Ron had pushed her off the log.
Hidden Depths
April 2004
"Ow!" Hermione hissed, trying to squirm out of Harry's grip.
"Relax!" he scolded, tightening his hold on her shoulders to keep her firmly in place.
"Then stop hurting me."
"I'm not hurting you. I'm trying to ease the ridiculous amount of tension you're carrying around. These are the tightest shoulders I've ever encountered."
"How many shoulders have you encountered?"
"I don't know. Mine, yours, Teddy's." He pressed down on the top of her shoulders to get her to lower them. When she finally relaxed slightly, he began rubbing circles into her muscles.
"I think I'm okay with the fact that I'm carrying around more tension than a five-year-old and a man who is unphased by nearly everything because he's literally stared down death before and can't be bothered with non-lifethreatening issues." She groaned as Harry reached a particularly tender spot.
"Sorry. This will make you feel better though, you always forget that in the moment."
"I'm just in a sour mood," she sighed.
"I know. You're stressed. Hence the tight shoulders, which make you sore and just adds to your irritation. It's a vicious cycle. One I'm trying to break if you would just bloody relax." He pressed down on her shoulders again, which were hiked up near her ears.
"I'd be able to relax better if this didn't hurt so much. Go gentler on me. I think you forget how strong you are sometimes."
Harry rolled his eyes. "If I lowered the pressure any further, I'd just be rubbing your skin, which wouldn't do anything."
"Then just rub my skin. I didn't even ask for this massage. We both know we're just stalling out here, having a stupid fight about tight shoulders and skin rubbing because we don't want to go in there!"
Hermione sent a shock of magic to her shoulders. Once he released his hands, she turned around so she was facing him. "Harry," she said gently, placing her hand on his chest. "I can get us another room."
Harry leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers as he let out a long sigh. He took her hand and smiled when he felt the rings on her finger and rubbed them with his thumb.
"I love you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed.
She placed a warm hand on his cheek. "I love you, too. And I guess it has been a hectic few weeks, hasn't it?"
Harry snorted. That was a massive understatement. In the last month, they'd been married, started a new company together, lobbied for investors for their company, and hired their first two employees to run things while they went on this trip, which had been planned ages ago and couldn't be moved―well, not unless they wanted to lose the two-bedroom suite Hermione had secured by exchanging countless letters in Mermish with the owner of the hotel.
"You started a company," he said.
Hermione couldn't help but smile. It still didn't feel real. And it had happened so quickly. Just a few days before their wedding, her boss had informed her they were shutting down the not-for-profit arm of the company she'd been running. He claimed it wasn't profitable enough, which was the point, obviously.
After ranting to Harry about all the helpful products her team had in queue that would never see the light of day, he encouraged her to finish them and sell them herself. One thing had led to another and before she knew it, she was starting a company. Well, they had started it together.
Harry kept calling it hers, but he'd been just as busy meeting with investors, helping her track down wizards and witches who had recently been laid off by her former employer before they secured new jobs, finding an office building for them to rent, and when it came down to designing products again, she knew he'd be right alongside her, checking her work and testing new products, like always.
Somewhere in there, they'd taken a day off to get married. It had been a busy month, even by her standards, and she was glad this trip to Pacifica had been too hard to move. They needed it. She was also glad she'd thought to come two days ahead of Neville, Hannah, Luna, and Rolf, since Harry needed the time to adjust to a place that held so many memories of his parents.
"We started a company," she corrected.
"So we did." Harry moved his hands to her neck, threading his fingers through her hair as he let out a ragged breath. "It's possible the massage was an excuse I made up to avoid going inside."
"No," she said sarcastically. "That whole rant about how I'm too stressed and need to relieve the tension with an impromptu massage and how it had to be done in the hall, so we wouldn't start our holiday with any burdens, was about something else?"
He let out a small laugh.
"Harry. Look at me."
He took a deep breath, then leaned back and opened his eyes.
"We can get another room," she repeated.
"I want this one."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded and she could tell by his eyes that he was sincere, and not just putting on a show, especially since he knew how hard it had been for her to secure this exact room, using nothing but letters to describe the suite and its location in this large hotel.
"Shall we go in then?" she whispered. "Or would you like to continue torturing me in the hall? Maybe you're hoping we'll get kicked out."
"Pfft. That was nothing like torture. And you, of all people, should know." She opened her mouth in mock affront, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement in her eyes. Harry sighed and turned to the door. "Okay. I'm ready."
Hermione took the key Jumana had handed her at the reception out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. She grabbed Harry's hand and marched them inside, figuring it was better to just get this over with.
As the door clicked closed behind them, Hermione was hit with a wave of nostalgia so strong, it nearly knocked her over. She gripped Harry's arm for support as the air left her lungs and tears blurred her vision. It was the same. Exactly the same. It would be, though, wouldn't it?
Just as Voldemort picking Neville over Harry had no impact on a young Merwoman named Jumana's decision to work at the reception of a hotel as she took classes at the local university at night, it hadn't affected the design choices of whoever had put together this suite.
Hermione turned her head and half-expected to see Lily in the kitchen, making tea, or James hunched over a foreign newspaper at the table, tapping his wand to the page and muttering a Translation spell every few minutes. They'd been to locations in this world that matched places they'd seen with Lily and James, but this was different for some reason. They'd lived here together, even if it had just been for a few days.
Harry stumbled forward a few feet to the sitting room. "Fuck," he breathed, stopping just behind the chair Lily and James had curled up in together. "It's like they're here. Just upstairs. About to burst in with a few bottles of wine and suggest we play a drinking game."
Hermione came up behind him and snaked her hands around his middle. She kissed the side of his neck. "I know."
Harry looked over at the spot next to the window where he'd told his mum he loved Hermione. He could almost hear their conversation now.
"I don't know what to do."
"Be patient. Hermione tends to cling to her plans because they give her life meaning and order, and this is a pretty big plan she's going to have to get rid of. And the alternative, being with you ... I imagine it scares her."
"It scares me too."
Harry dropped his face in his hand. "I did what you said," he told the version of his mum he talked to in his mind. "I was patient and we made it. I just wish you could have seen it."
His mind flashed to the wedding and the spot near the front where his parents should have been sitting. Arthur and Molly had occupied the row alongside McGonagall, Hagrid, and Andromeda, which meant the world to him, but still … they weren't his parents. And they didn't know. It killed him that they didn't know he'd married Hermione. He wanted to tell them so badly and now―it fucking sucked because they felt so close. They were right here in the room with him but also … worlds away.
His body began shaking with sobs and he had to grip the chair in front of him for support. Hermione tightened her grip on him. "Breathe, Harry," she whispered. "Just, breathe."
He did what she said and after several deep breaths felt slightly calmer, though just as sad. He turned around and pulled her into his chest. As he held her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, he reminded himself he wasn't alone. He had this incredible witch, this incredible wife. She was his. She knew everything about him and, impossibly, had still chosen to spend her life with him. As long as she was by his side, he wasn't alone.
When Harry had regained his composure, he stood up straight and pulled Hermione to the couch. He took the spot in the middle and set her on the side, near the armrest. The same spot she'd been sitting when he'd told her he loved her for the first time.
Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I think of this night more than any others."
"The drinking game?" he quipped. "You were pretty drunk. I'm surprised you remember it."
She hit his leg playfully. "You know that's not the night I was talking about. You're cheeky today."
"I'm always cheeky."
Hermione lifted her head and turned so she was facing him, pulling one of her legs up on the couch. "That's true."
They were quiet, each remembering that night. One that had looked so similar to this one, but that had happened years ago in another dimension. Harry placed one of his hands over Hermione's and twirled her ring. She raised her free hand to the back of his head and began playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They didn't say anything, but they knew what the other was thinking. Harry was sorry he'd taken her for granted for so long. Hermione was sorry she'd kept putting off their wedding and made him think she'd doubted him.
They'd apologized to each other a hundred times but now, they didn't need to. It was done and they were here, exactly where they were supposed to be, and the long road they'd taken to get here was okay. It was just part of the journey.
Hermione rested her forehead on Harry's shoulder.
"This is a pretty lousy Honeymoon. Isn't it?" he asked.
She smiled into his shirt. "We've discussed this. This isn't our Honeymoon. You can't have a Honeymoon when you're sharing a suite with two other couples."
"Not a proper one. No," he agreed.
"We're going to postpone the Honeymoon to this summer, when the company is more settled and I have a team of employees in place who are trained and capable of running things on their own for a few weeks."
Harry just hummed. "Okay then. I don't see why we can't practice for the Honeymoon." He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. After a long, deep kiss that left both of them breathless, he turned his head and whispered in her ear, "I believe you wanted me to forgo the massage and rub your skin."
"Yes," she sighed as the scratching of the stubble on his jaw against her neck sent a chill through her.
He moved a hand up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts under her bra, brushing his thumb along her nipple. "Did you want me to rub this skin here?"
"Yes," she breathed.
He moved his hands down and began unbuttoning her jeans. "What about in here? Any skin in here I should rub?"
Hermione smirked. "I don't think the parts you rub in there count as skin. Maybe … organs? I don't know. I'd have to look it up."
Harry let out a small laugh as he pulled down her zipper. "You can look it up later." When her jeans were undone, he tapped her hip, trying to get her to lift her bum so he could pull the jeans down, but she stayed in place.
"Are you sure? We can talk about your parents. You can tell me what you were thinking about earlier, we can swap memories, and imagine what they're doing now. We can save this for later."
Harry placed a soft kiss on her lips, then moved his hands to the front of her blouse and began undoing the buttons. "Sure, we can do that," he whispered against her lips. "Or we can do this," he paused to pull her blouse up over her head, "work out some tension, then after, we can lie on the couch and do all the depressing stuff you just mentioned."
Hermione kissed him again, deeply this time. "Okay."
Harry made quick work of removing the rest of their clothes. Once they were naked, he pulled Hermione onto his lap. "I have a confession," he said as he pushed her hair behind her shoulders.
He started tracing his finger along the line of her neck and shoulder, then down around the curve of her breasts, making the hair on Hermione's arms stand on end. "What?" she asked.
"I had a lot of dreams about that night I told you I loved you. But instead of brushing me off―" he smirked, "―you kissed me and before long, we ended up in this position."
"Ahh. I see. It was that sort of dream." She rolled her hips, grinding into him, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I had the same dream."
Their lips crashed together as she continued rocking her hips, rubbing her clit against him. The intensity of her movements surprised even her. Harry was right, she'd been too stressed and too busy. But this was exactly what she needed. He was exactly what she needed.
Harry moved his hands to her bum and dropped his lips down to her neck, sucking on a sensitive spot near her ear. She let out several moans as she reached for him, taking his firm length in her hand. She lifted her hips and positioned him at her core, then slowly lowered down, sighing at the familiar feeling of being filled up by him. Yes. This was exactly what she needed.
He squeezed her bum, then grabbed her chin and kissed her fiercely as she bounced on top of him. "Harry," she said breathlessly, unable to form the words to the rest of the sentence. He knew what she wanted, though, and moved one hand to her chest, where he began swirling his thumb around her nipple as she moved his other hand between her legs.
The sensations threatened to overwhelm her. The feeling of his hand on her breasts, his tongue entwined with hers, his fingers on her clit, his cock moving inside her. Her tension was building and was about to snap, but she wasn't ready for it to end. "Wait," she bit out. "Harry―I'm―I'm―"
"I know."
"Slower," she panted. Hermione slowed the rocking of her hips while Harry shifted his hands so they were resting lightly on her sides. He gave her a sardonic look that said, "You're the one in charge here. If you want to go slower, go slower," and she couldn't help but laugh.
The coil at her center loosened slightly and she let out a contented sigh. She wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Harry was just watching her, giving her one of those looks that made her heart stop, that made her feel like they were the only two people in the world.
She quickened her pace again. Harry returned his hands to her bum and pulled her harder against him, forcing himself deeper inside her. She let out a few breathy moans. He dipped his head down and placed a soft kiss on the top of her chest. He raised an eyebrow in question and at her nod, began devouring her breasts again. She cried out in pleasure, the sound echoing around the glass walls of the room.
That tension that had been building finally snapped. She gasped in surprise and her vision blurred slightly.
Harry continued to thrust into her, gripping her hips to guide her movements. He pulled her down into a kiss and she summoned her remaining energy to rock her hips, tilting them at the end of each thrust in that way he liked. He let out a string of swears, then a groan as his body jerked under hers. She continued kissing him and rolling her hips through his release, until he finally went slack. "Fuck," he whispered.
She folded onto him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Was it like your dream?" she whispered after a few moments, when she'd finally caught her breath.
"No," he said, still panting. "I was never able to imagine anything that came close to this. What about you?"
Hermione turned her head and smiled at him. "My dream was better." She patted his chest, which was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Don't worry, though. You'll get there. We have plenty of time."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You are insufferable, Mrs. Potter."
Hermione's heart thumped. Mrs. Potter. That was her name, wasn't it? She still couldn't believe it. She sat up again and lifted her hand to brush away the black hair that was covering his scar. Her expression was serious now, the teasing from just a moment ago forgotten. "Is this real, Harry? It's not a dream? Am I really going to get everything I ever wanted?"
He matched her serious expression with one of his own, his green eyes intense with determination as he pushed a damp curl behind her ear. "Absolutely. I'm going to make sure of it."
