Living in My Own Shadow
Hey all! Been working on this one for months: finally took the initiative to post it. Of course, I have a lot more for later on in the story; just have to do some linking chapters. Basically, this is my take on the "Harry goes to an Alternate Universe" plot, which includes Hermione going with him.
Disclaimer: I'M the Author...I'll tell the characters what to do! (Random copyright law book smashes into side of LP's head) I don't own it! (puts hands up) Please don't sue me...
Summary: Harry and Hermione Potter, 24 years old, have lost everything. Can they get it all back in a new universe? Harry's parents are alive, Hermione's a Lupin, and other crazy characters come into existence. HP x HG, DM x GW, BZ x OC, JP x LE, SB x OC, RL x OC
Warning: mentions of: child abuse, torture, rape; suicide, war et cetera. Not often a light, happy fic. You have been warned. Humor is pretty sparse and really bad.
Chapter One: Aftermath, in which Harry and Hermione lose everything and everyone, and a turn of events occurs.
Harry James and Hermione Rose Potter took twin deep breaths and looked at the total and utter devastation that had been visited on the battlefield. People were dead or dying in hordes, the injured were either desperately in need of a medi-witch or –wizard or staggering about, and those precious few who were next to unharmed were administering medical aid.
Hermione knelt down and began doing the same. The natural Healer made relatively short work of one woman's broken and bloodied arm, and a man's head wound. Harry continued to look around at the loss, until he dropped to his knees and helped his wife. The twenty-four-year-olds had no idea what was about to happen, the last effect of Tom Marvolo Riddle and his world-domination fixation.
Harry looked down at a mangled face, eyes open and staring in death, and turned away. "No," he croaked. "Aunt M-Meghan…" I suppose you're back with Sirius now, and the two of you will have the most fun terrorizing the people of the after life, he thought, albeit a little bitterly. A sinking feeling started in his stomach. He looked next to his paternal aunt and let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. Katherine Bassett-Lupin, obviously on the last legs of life, grasped his arm in a death grip. "They got us, Harry," she gasped out. "They got us good. But you got him back. Tell him—tell Remus I love him," she stammered. And with that, Katherine Theresa Bassett Lupin, long-time wife of Remus Lupin, died.
Where was Remus? He couldn't be dead. That would be everyone…everyone! More than anything he was glad that his cousin Ashley had been talked into leaving after the initial stages of the battle. She had fought and fought, but eventually understood that in her grief-stricken haze, she could do nothing to help the SOUL (Soldiers of the Order of Unified Light) in their quest for the end of Voldemort. He couldn't lose his last connection to his family, wouldn't lose the only other living member of his family…
There he was. Remus was limping over to where Harry knelt, not even trying to pry his honorary aunt's fingers from around his arm. "Remus!" he croaked. "Over here!"
Remus nodded, and was over there faster than Harry could follow. "Kate," he said in anguish when he saw her broken, bloodied body. "She—she's not—"
Harry nodded, letting his tears fall. Remus shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "No, she can't be! Kate, wake up! Come on, love!" He patted her cheeks, leaned down and looked into her open eyes, and let out a howl of despair that had to come from the wolf in him. Hermione ran back over, and was crying as well.
Harry put an arm around her, burying his face in her shoulder. "Your parents would be proud," she managed to say, though her voice broke. "They are proud of you, up there."
Remus suddenly crumpled to the ground. Hermione rushed over and turned the suddenly unresponsive man over. He had a hand clutching his stomach. Hermione pried it away and looked at the wound, now pouring blood around burned edges. Harry shook his head, denying it. No, not him too, not all of them. It's bad enough Ron's dead and Ashley's close to dying because of that…Aunt Meghan, Kate, Remus…
Hermione looked up at him, her green-hazel eyes sick. "Silver," she said. "It's too severe, especially with him being a werewolf. He won't make it, Harry. He's not even breathing any more. It's got his bloodstream now."
Remus's face turned blue, then purple. Hermione's hands never left his temples as she tried to soothe his passing. "NO! Remus, you can't! Kathy—" Harry didn't even finish before he had attempted to breathe his last. She yanked her hands away, so he couldn't drag her with him to the underworld and death.
Harry, we need to go back and see to Ashley, Kathy, and J-Jason. They need to know. Harry nodded sadly. Hermione's eyes shone with unshed tears, and she swallowed, looking up at Harry. It's their family that's gone, she reminded him. Yours too, but you know. She put a hand on his arm.
Let's go, Mya, he said, offering her his hand. "Mya" and Harry Apparated straight into what had once been the Gryffindor common room.
Twenty-three-year-old Ashley Marie Black-Weasley, married to the now-deceased Ronald Weasley, sat there with an arm each around twenty-year-old twins Kathleen "Kathy" Judith Lupin-Thomas and Jason "Jay" Anthony Lupin (engaged to Natalie McDonald, who curled up against him). The four had been convinced to leave the battle at its early stages.
"Ashley," Hermione began, hoping to break the news. But Ashley was already on her feet, looking at Harry and Hermione.
"It happened. The Marauders and their wives are gone, aren't they? Just like Luna's vision said. I never doubted what that girl said…why though? Why?" Ashley collapsed, Harry catching her before she hit the ground and giving his cousin a reassuring hug.
Kathy, whose husband was who-knows-where in who-knows-what-condition on the battlefield they had just left, crumpled, crying. "Dean…Mya, where is he?"
"I don't know, Kathy," she admitted, dropping to her knees to comfort the broken girl. Jay and Natalie pulled each other closer. Jay's attempt to keep a face up for his weeping fiancée was lost now. In fact, everyone in the room was weeping.
There would never be a cheerful day again.
LivingInMyOwnShadowHermione and Harry woke up with a start in the wee hours of the next morning, hearing a clanking and gasping in the bathroom of the boys' dormitory, which was where everyone was staying at the moment. Hermione ordered Harry to stay there and knocked on the door, opening it when she received no response.
Ashley Weasley held a silver dagger. Blood was pouring out of her arms. "Nothing left to live for," she was murmuring absently. Her eyes were clouding. Hermione placed fingers on either side of her head immediately, sensing the need for quick action.
Ashley laughed, a cold, choking laugh. "Don't waste yourself, Mya. There's nothing left for me here. I'm going to find Ron, and Mum and Dad. Tell Harry his cousin—loves—him." Her eyes closed, never to open again.
Hermione cried herself dry, sitting next to her best friend, who bled out soon after that. Harry came in a few minutes later. He saw his wife sitting next to his cousin, dead in a pool of her own blood, and gathered her into his arms. They cried over the very last member of the Black family together.
Hermione wiped her eyes nearly a half-hour later and looked at Harry. "She was pregnant, Harry. She didn't know it, she was only about two weeks along…but there was something left for her…she wouldn't take it, though, she'd lost too much." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Have you seen the twins or Natalie?"
"They left. Jason and Natalie. For America. Too many bad memories," he told her. "They just left late last night. Kathy hasn't woken yet."
"Do a scan for Dean," she asked him. "Find out if he's still alive. She needs him, more than anything." Harry nodded, and his golden web of magic blanketed the battlefield for a moment. He suspected what he was going to find, but he was looking, for the sake of Kathy, his honorary cousin.
He found what he had been expecting. He drew his magic back, drained, and tightened his hold on Hermione. She was all he had left.
"He's gone, Mya. And Kathy is too. There's no life in the room over." She buried her head in his shoulder, crying again.
"Harry, what's happened to us?"
LivingInMyOwnShadowThey cried themselves to sleep again. It had been a physically, mentally, and magically exhausting forty-eight hours. First the journey to the battlefield. Then cutting down the Dark forces to reach Riddle. Finally, Harry's last of many duels with the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort. And then, the numerous emotional shocks of finding everyone they loved dead.
Tom Riddle's dying last spell, wordlessly embedded into the minds of his conqueror and his beloved, activated as the last of the Potters fell asleep in each other's arms. The strange runes glowed in silver fire around the couple, whirling around them at a fever pitch until suddenly the world as they knew it blinked out of existence. The two, spelled to remain when their universe did not, were simply squeezed into the next available universe that happened to be a very, very different setting than they were used to. They would wake up in due time, the malicious spirit of Tom Riddle, in transit to hell, thought with satisfaction.
LivingInMyOwnShadowHarry woke to someone shaking him. "Wake up, Harry dear," a voice penetrated his dreams…rather, nightmares.
"Mya, stop it. I need my sleep," he murmured into the pillow.
"Harry, breakfast's ready," the voice said.
Harry realized he didn't know the voice. He jumped out of bed and pointed at the woman who had been shaking him. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"It's your mum, sweetheart," she said, a little surprised. "Come on down and have some breakfast." This must be another dream, he thought to himself. I'll go with it.
"Sure," he said to the redheaded woman. She was very pretty. She actually did look like Lily Evans-Potter. A few years older than when she had died, but it was Lily Evans-Potter. There was someone standing off to the side…shit, where were his glasses? He took them off the table next to him once he'd located them, and shoved them on his nose.
It was a girl with long black hair and green eyes. A girl who looked a lot like…him. And that would be because…yes, Harry, this is a dream. He followed the woman and the girl who his subconscious had crafted. His "mother" cut ahead of them, hurrying to what was probably a kitchen or a dining room.
"Umm, who are you?" he asked the girl tentatively as they walked down a huge flight of stairs.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry," the girl rolled her eyes. "One would assume the great Boy-Who-Lived would know his own sister, however 'beneath' him she is."
"Nathalie!" came "Lily's" voice. "Nathalie" sighed. "Sorry, Mum," she called. "You're being an awful prat, Harry," she whispered viciously as she brushed past him.
Mya! Harry tried to call. Mya, where are you?
Huh? Harry, leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep.
Wake up then, I'm worried. Where are you? Because I'm stuck in this dream with my "mother" and my "little sister". Am I awake? Because I, well, should not be awake. I have no sister; my parents are dead…This is all wrong. He took a deep breath.
Shit, Harry, let me wake up before you start worrying, Hermione teased. Let's take it from the beginning. You say your mother and your little sister are there with you.
Yeah, and my, er, little sister, is named Nathalie and seems to hate me. Harry sighed. I seem to be 'an awful prick'. Her words, not mine, he added. I just asked her who she was, and she threw a fit. Well, not a fit, exactly, but she said I was an awful prat and called me the "Great Boy-Who-Lived". Whoever she is, she's being a brat.
"Now, now, Harry, be nice," she said aloud without thinking, sitting up in bed. Except it wasn't her bed. From anywhere. In fact, it looked like the Lupins' home, Moonlight Cottage, or something along those lines.
Mya? Harry asked. Is everything all right there? Please let everything be okay…
I'm fine. Just in a bit of shock, seeing as I'm not at home or anything, or even a hospital. I'm not in pain. And I think I'm at Moonlight Cottage, actually.
What?!
"Harry, dear, sit down. Morning, Nathalie," his "mother" said politely, if a little coolly. Nathalie muttered some unintelligible words, but Harry, used to Ron's early-morning mumblings, caught the words "always the favorite" and "bloody Boy-Who-Lived". I didn't bloody well ask for it, Nathalie! he thought to himself.
Stop it, Harry. You better not cuss your sister out, Hermione said absently. Dammit, these are not my clothes. And…BLOODY HELL!
What now, Mya? Harry asked tiredly. She'd probably found out that she was getting gray hair or something. God knows they'd been through enough.
This is not my body, Harry. She allowed him a glimpse through her eyes, which were watching a mirror, in which a probably fourteen- or fifteen-year-old girl was displayed. Her hair was long, curly, and dark brown and her eyes were green-hazel. Recognizably Hermione. But only just. She hadn't been fourteen for ten years. And she was prettier at twenty-four, Harry mused.
Hermione took offence.
You're still pretty now, love, he hurried to reassure her. You're just prettier later. She seemed to accept his answer, blinking him out of her eyes.
"Lily" set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Harry and one in front of Nathalie. "How'd you sleep, Harry dear?" she asked.
Shit. Mya, gotta go. Mum's trying to talk to me…wait, when did I agree she was my mum?
Obviously right now. Well, I'm going to go figure out where—and who—my parents are. Love you, dear. And she linked out, followed by Harry. "Oh, I, uh, slept well, Mum," he stammered. "How'd you sleep?" Nathalie looked sharply at him, and his mother looked slightly surprised. "I was just asking…you don't have to answer."
"No, no, it's fine," Lily recovered. "I had a great night's sleep," she smiled. Harry nodded with a smile of his own, and dug into his food. It'd been a while since he'd had anything to eat. Then again, it was hard to feel hungry when you thought about all the people who'd died. He tried to hold back the tears, but it was too late. They already glittered in his emerald eyes.
"What's wrong, Harry?" his mother asked, concerned. Nathalie was concentrating on her food, and paid him no mind.
"Oh, nothing…something in my eye, that's all," he excused hurriedly. "So, umm, where is, uh, Dad?" he asked innocently. Obviously his father had lived; his sister was living proof, unless his mum had remarried…to someone who looked exactly like his dad…
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, he had to go to work early today. An emergency mission. I'm afraid you'll have to amuse yourself today."
"Oh—oh, no problem, I was just curious, that's all." He ate a forkful of eggs and smiled at his mother. "This is really good. Thanks for breakfast, Mum," he said politely. His sister swiveled to look at him strangely. Harry felt like an animal on exhibit in a zoo, but smiled at the younger girl anyway. As soon as he finished eating, he excused himself before his mother could offer any more food or anything of the sort and got out of the room as fast as he could.
Mya! What's going on? I need a status report! All I've managed to figure out is that my parents are alive and I have a little sister.
Well, Mr. Impatient, please learn some manners. I'm busy right now.
Oh—sorry, love.
Don't worry about it. Call back in half an hour, okay?
Of course I will. Love you. He linked out and then realized he had no idea where he was going. Holy crap. "Where is Harry's room?" he asked the picture on the wall in annoyance, definitely not expecting an answer.
"Take your next left, go up the stairs, and take a right. Four doors down on your left," a person behind him said nonchalantly. "Though why you're asking great-grandfather John I have no idea. Don't you know where you live, oh precious boy-who-lived?" He whirled around to see the unexplainably cold Nathalie Potter, and winced.
"Oh, of course I do…just wondering if someone was following me," he lied smoothly. She wasn't impressed, but she believed him.
Thanks to his sister's unknowingly helpful directions (he made a mental note not to let anyone with questionable intentions toward any place she knew talk to her), he found the room. It wasn't that difficult when he got up there. After all, there was a large sign on it that said "Harry" in big, bold letters. He thought that mightn't be too bad. At least it wasn't a cupboard under the stairs. He turned the knob to open the door and gaped at the room.
Well, for starters, it was huge. Sure, he'd seen it before. He woke up in it. But he hadn't really looked around—Moody would have slapped him upside the head (which might have triggered another flashback. Spending sixteen years with the Dursleys and then various periods of time with Voldemort's torturers after that, he didn't exactly have a positive reaction to most touch). And on top of that, it was one of the nicest rooms Harry had ever come across. Certainly nothing like the second bedroom at Privet Drive, and his and Hermione's in-the-process-of-being-refurbished home at Grimmauld Place had a long way to go before it was up to this standard. Wherever he was, it was nice. And he probably didn't belong here. Hell, he knew he didn't belong here. His parents were here.
And if that wasn't weird, not much else was. The only thing that would be weirder would be if his whole extended and adopted family suddenly burst through the doors. And it would probably make it weirder if they were all singing an obnoxious traveling song, but he wasn't going to be picky.
Harry took a deep breath and collapsed on the bed. Which was very comfortable, by the way. After spending sixteen years on a lumpy mattress and seven more years here, there, and everywhere, sleeping standing up and over a desk and on the ground and even in trees, it was quite a luxury. He flicked his wrist to close the door, not bothering to get up when he was so comfortable and exhausted. He leaned his head back, asleep and snoring before anyone could say "Quidditch".
LivingInMyOwnShadowHermione Rose Granger Potter had been a lot of things in her relatively young life. She'd been her parents' "Harry", as she and Harry liked to put it, their own personal house-elf, breathing punching bag, live-in baby-sitter, and much, much more for seventeen years. She'd been Hermione-the-bookworm-of-the-Trio for seven years. She'd been Hermione Potter for six-and-a-bit years. She'd even been a Captain of the Soldiers of the Order of Unified Light (SOUL) for almost nine years. But one thing she had never been was the daughter of Remus John and Katherine Theresa Lupin. Nor was she a sister to either of the people sitting beside her, presumably the Lupin twins. In fact, the only sibling she'd ever had was a friendly little boy, who was actually around sixteen last she knew, named Thomas Jonathan Granger.
So why was she sitting at the breakfast table squished between two overzealous eleven-year-old twins hyped up on their pending acceptance into Hogwarts?
She had absolutely no idea. Just like she didn't know why Remus Lupin was smiling at the three of them like he was used to this. And just like she didn't know why Kate Lupin had put a plateful of eggs and buttered toast in front of her with practiced ease. And just like she didn't know why the date on Remus's paper said 12 July 1996. Everyone knew it was 2004.
Hermione picked up a fork and prodded the eggs half-heartedly.
"They aren't poisoned," Kate said with a roll of her eyes.
"'m not hungry," she muttered, pushing the plate away from her in a gesture she never thought she'd use. She had always eaten, and, until she was twenty, hoarded food, just like a packrat, remembering days she hadn't been allowed to eat anything. But memories from the past few years had unsettled her stomach, and she no longer wanted to look at any food.
Then she realized who was around her, and her eyes widened. "Oh. My. God." She threw her arms around the babbling brown-haired boy sitting next to her and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Jay, it's great to see you!" Before the boy could shake off the confused haze she had induced and ask her something, she turned on the girl on her other side. "And you, Kathy!" she added, kissing each cheek before releasing the girl in favor of hugging Kate. "Hi, Mrs. Lupin!" Then proceeding to Remus to throw her arms around him, "Professor, be careful about that in the future," she scolded. The whole family was staring at her, not comprehending. Oh shit. What had Harry said? Lily and James Potter were alive. Hermione's quick brain reached a conclusion surprisingly fast. Alternate universe.
Mya! What's going on? I need a status report! All I've managed to figure out is that my parents are alive and I have a little sister.
Well, Mr. Impatient, please learn some manners. I'm busy right now, she snapped at her husband through their mental link (created by a potions accident that bound them together in many ways).
Oh—sorry, love.
Don't worry about it. Call back in half an hour, okay?
Of course I will. Love you. She shut off the link after her own goodbye, pausing to think some more. Dammit, she needed a library. Grimmauld Place's, preferably, but she'd take what she could get. And there wasn't one at Moonlight Cottage. Bloody hell, why was life so complicated?
"Oh, sorry, just got excited. Umm. Carried away. Yeah. Well. Umm. Ignore the outburst. Bad dream. Yes. That's right. Er…" Her family relaxed. Thank God.
"Yes, Rosie?" Remus asked, grinning. Hermione pursed her lips, thinking. Whoever she was here, they called her Rosie and knew her well. At (presumably) her home universe, at this age, she knew Remus very little and was hardly ever in a room with him. She didn't know that Kate, Kathy or Jay existed, and she was afraid of everyone, living in a house with abusive parents and a seven-year-old brother. So, basically, she wasn't in Kansas anymore.
"Umm. The library," she said slowly, taking a gamble. "I have to go to the library."
From the way Kathy rolled her eyes, that was something she said quite often. Remus sighed. "Of course. Do you want to read up on something Muggle or something wizarding?"
"Wizarding," she said immediately.
"Very well. I'll see if James or Sirius minds you holing up in their library for a day."
"Or two, or seven, or the rest of the month," Jay muttered under his breath.
"Jason," his father said warningly. "Are you sure you don't want any breakfast, kid?" he asked her, concerned. Hermione shook her head. "Ah, on a research binge again, don't have any need for physical food like the rest of us common mortals, hmm?" he joked, smiling. Hermione attempted a smile, perplexed. What was that supposed to mean?
She retreated back to her room and desperately hoped her other self had some of the texts she was looking for at the moment. She needed Trapped in Time by Cynthia Berlet and Meet Yourself: Alternate Universe Theory, by Theodore O. R. Korbachev to start off her research, and while she may have had easy access to both of them in her own world, she had no idea if her other self in this world would have any reason to own either of those books. Plus, if she had any reason to own them, what would they say if they saw her reading it?
Thanks to someone watching over her, she found Berlet's time travel book. Unfortunately she did not own Korbachev's book, and she was forced to wait for that. She flipped through Berlet, looking for information on time jumps. Bypassing three chapters on Time Turners, a chapter on the Sands of Time, and two chapters on different types of time-controlled rooms, she finally came to a chapter headed Crossing Longer Periods of Time. Turning to the first page of information, she immersed herself in the familiar routine of research.
LivingInMyOwnShadowSomeone knocked on her door. Hermione rolled her eyes and called out, "I'm kinda busy right now, Harry. Come back later." The someone opened the door anyway. "Harry, I said, I'm bus—" Kate was leaning on her door, arms crossed over her chest.
Kate was smirking at her "daughter". "Harry, hmm?" Hermione looked at her, confused, then remembered that morning. Oh crap.
"Well, erm, yeah," she said, playing it by ear. "I thought we were back at Hogwarts," she excused her slip.
"You're not in Harry's House, love, and I doubt he spends much time in the library. Late-night rendezvous, perhaps?" Hermione started harder at her "mother". Think, Hermione, think fast! How to excuse…Ah!
"Ka—Mum, that is, there's a Harry in my House." Was Harry in Slytherin, then, or was she in Ravenclaw? Either was a distinct possibility—at least with their old personas. Even Harry sorted into Ravenclaw. "Umm—Harry—you know, Harrison. Harrison Lewis. He was a new kid and I saw him in the library. He's nice, we talk a little." Harry was going to kill her for that. He hated being called "Harrison".
Kate deflated. "Oh. Well, anyway. James says it's perfectly okay for you to go ahead and spend some time in their library for today. Please just don't aggravate Harry."
"No problem. Thanks, Mum," she grinned. Well that was good news. A way to see how Harry was handling their abrupt transfer to this new universe. "I'll be good." Why did Kate think she would aggravate Harry? Wouldn't they be long-time friends if her parents were close friends with his? She shrugged mentally. Maybe Harry was working on something?
If he wasn't in the library with a few different books on Alternate Universe Theory right now, she'd be very upset. Unless he was asleep or something like that. Or sick. Or hurt…
She closed her book and followed her mother to the Floo connection. "Remus thought he'd go see James, Lily, and Nathalie, too, so you're going with him." Thankfully, Remus went first, shouting out, "Potter Manor" before he disappeared. Hermione's eyebrows rose slowly. Yet another thing Dumbledore had neglected to mention.
Hermione followed, smiling at her mother. Well, here, at least, it was supposedly the genetic truth, or at least the truth that mattered. If only it had been the same at home, she thought wistfully. Imagine having lived the life she seemed to have lived here. No wondering if she'd survive the day before her family killed her, no worrying about her little brother, lest he be magical as well, just her loving family, books, and her friends. In no particular order. It would have been so different.
And maybe Harry would have shaped up and asked her out sooner, instead of carefully avoiding it for six years. She smiled. He was wonderful and absolutely darling, but the fact remained that, in matters of the heart, he had next to no tact.
She fell out of an ornate fireplace at her destination. Collecting her notebook and pencils from where they'd fallen on the floor, she brushed herself off, standing.
Harry stood in front of her.
Wait, no, that wasn't Harry. No scar, hazel eyes…no…that was James Potter. Hermione's eyes widened. "Er. Um. Hello! Yeah. Hi, Mr. Potter," she said with an uneasy grin.
"Rose, how many times do I have to ask you to call me James?"
"At least once more," she said automatically. (A/N: I don't claim this! Even though I don't think it's trademarked. It sounds like my Mya though.) She smiled at her husband's father—god that sounded strange—who just shook his head at her, smiling. "Moony says you needed the library for some project you were doing?" She nodded. "Thought so. Go on down."
"Oh, yes." Damn, it sounded like she'd been here before. "Umm, Mr. Potter?"
"James, but what?"
"Which way is it again? I'm afraid I've been all turned around and I'm not too sure which way I'm going. It's been one of those times," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, in that case…Nathalie, can you come help Rose find the library? You know how she gets lost in the halls, right?"
A messy-black-haired, green-eyed girl, whose sharp eyes crackled with awareness, popped up almost immediately, from a corner Hermione hadn't noticed. "I guess. Hey Rose! How are you?" It took Hermione a minute to realize she was talking to her.
"Oh, I'm fine, I guess." She attempted a smile. Rose nodded. "You?"
"I'm okay. Come on. I heard Dad say you were doing a project?" Hermione nodded. "What about?" she asked, seeming genuinely interested.
"Well, it's not a project for anything really, at least, not anything special. Just thought I'd look up some stuff that was bothering me. I might write it up, just in case I want to look back on it later. You know." And in fact, Harry's "little sister" did seem to know. She was obviously very book-friendly—a lot like Harry's hidden side—and Hermione liked her.
"You should send it in to one of the magazines. See if they'd publish it." Hermione blushed. She sounded like Ginny.
"Oh no, my writing's no good. Besides, this is just because I'm curious. Do you know if you have a copy of Alternate Universe Theory by Cassandra Blake? And I'm looking for Meet Yourself by Theodore Korbachev as well."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we do. Alternate universes? Is that your new project?" When she nodded, Nathalie grinned. "Cool! Can I help any? Find some more books for you or something? Oh damn. Sorry, I can't. I'm going to go see Ginny and Ashley today. But it'd be cool to help if you come over again."
"Oh, sure…Nathalie," she remembered, slotting the girl's name in at the last possible second before she realized something was up. She grinned. "Thanks, Rosie! Gotta go!"
It took Hermione a minute to realize she was right in front of two huge doors, with a plaque saying Potter Library on one of them. Lucky you, Harry, she thought, just a bit jealous, and pushed open a door.
Bookshelves lined the room up and down, sideways and across. Hermione was in heaven. It was even better than Hogwarts. God, she wished she lived here. She hurried through a small labyrinth of shelves until she reached the middle, seeing a table surrounded by comfy chairs there. There was already someone in one of the chairs. A messy-haired, very quiet someone. Harry? Hermione tested.
His head flew up. Mya? And then he saw her.
He dropped the book he was reading as he stood. Hermione winced as it hit the ground, but in the next moment, she didn't notice it. Harry pulled her into a tight hug, his strong arms wrapping around her torso. She snuggled into his embrace, burying her head in his shoulder. "I was so worried!" he whispered in her ear. "I didn't know where you were, and when I tried to get to you, you blocked me off. Are you okay? You're not…with him again, are you?"
"Stephen?" she asked, referring to her Muggle father. "No. It appears I'm the Lupins' daughter here. Kathy's sister. I assume it's biologically, because otherwise there would have to be a reason, but whatever it is, I really wish it had been this way before." Harry pulled her even closer, if that was possible. He started murmuring apologies in her ear.
"I wish you'd told me, My'," he said sadly. "You would have been with the Weasleys, or at least not there, as soon as you'd told someone."
"Not if Dumbledore had his way," she retorted. Harry just pressed his cheek to her forehead. "You're taller than you were," he realized.
"So are you, boy wonder," she teased. "It comes of having families that care for you and actually feed you. I'm still shorter than you though."
"I don't think you're going to get the jump on me, darling," he laughed. "You're here for what I think you are, right?"
"Research? Right in one. What are you checking now?" Harry walked over to where he'd dropped his book and picked it up. He tossed Korbachev's book at her. She grinned at him and pointed to the chair. "I'm going to see about some more. Is this organized at all?" she asked a little disdainfully, seeing the haphazardly arranged bookshelves.
"I think it's in genres by author, but I could be wrong. See if you can decipher the writing on those bookshelves," he said a little grumpily, opening Meet Yourself, but not focusing on Korbachev's words. He was still complaining about the library. "I'm having some problems. I'm not a disorganized libraries kind of person. I like my books all laid out the right way, not all upset like this one is. If there's anything I'm going to do while we're here, I'm going to rearrange Potter Library. And you better be helping me," he said, unfortunately to thin air. She'd disappeared after his fourth sentence. "Women." He turned back to the book slowly, reading the carefully typed words of the Russian magical scientist. It has been suggested that every person has a genetic double in an alternate universe, unless the universe was altered long before his or her birth. Indeed, some believe that one has a genetic double no matter the deviation from their original universe-timeline. One such case is the Miller case, when George Miller was visited by gray light in his dreams and the next day woke to see his identical and genetic double sitting across from him at the dining table. The Miller case is one of few recorded communications with residents of alternate universes.
You know something, love? Harry queried, bemusedly.
What now? Hermione teased with a mental grin.
I think you might be right about this alternate universe thing.
When have I ever been wrong, might I ask? Oh, and I think I found the section we should be looking in. I'm sending some books your way.
A stack of books probably as tall as him wound their way through the tall shelves and dropped in a perfect tower next to him. Mya, he whined. I might barely make it through this before lunch—it's so unfair.
Get used to it, you Einstein-wannabe, you. Now, open that Kilroy I sent and turn to page 225, please.
LivingInMyOwnShadow
A/N: Should I even bother to continue posting it, or is this piece of crap best kept between my computer, my friend AJ, and me? The later stuff is better, I think…
I think it's my best work so far, so if you think it's really bad, I should just abandon all thoughts of being a writer before I'm an adult. By the way, is it too light and cheerful in the end bit? I find to be a little too bouncy, but I'm not sure how to rewrite it.
Please leave any thoughts on the piece in a review! This fic is Harry/Hermione-centric, with a big sub-focus on Draco/Ginny—you'll see why later. Not too much focus on the older generation, although they do appear in almost every scene.
Meghan: Yeah, she's leaving me out quite a bit. But never fear, I love you all anyway! Even if I was dead for like a whole day—thanks a lot!
Ashley: Mum, shut up. And by the way, I think I get to be a bit more of a character in this piece. Love it! Except the suicide bit…
This story keeps a LOT of Angst all through. Most of my stories do. I am not the light and cheerful sort most of the time, only in real life . If that doesn't confuse you! Mya and Harry have a lot to handle before everyone else can find out about them. "Owl" me if you have any ideas! ) They have from September until December to play "Rose" and "Harry". More about their personas in next chapter!
Yeah, that's all I have to say. Please review, if you can be bothered!
Love, LysPotter