When Two Different Worlds Collide

My first cross-over fic! :D So excited!

1) Through the Wardrobe- The Other Wardrobe

"Hermione! Come on, we're missing lunch! Hermione!"

Hermione Granger scowled, blowing loose brown hair out of her face with a huff. The sixth year prefect did not slow her walk, nearly running up the marble staircase. She ignored Ron's whine, adjusting her book bag to a more comfortable position on her shoulder as she started up another flight of stairs.

"Hermione! Can't this wait?"

With a small yet rough sigh, Hermione slid smoothly to a stop, making a quick turn on her heels to face her best friends. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley stumbled as they stopped, unprepared for Hermione's sudden halt. Her hand automatically went to her hip, which jutted out in a manner that radiated exasperation. She looked at them skeptically.

"No, Harry, I'm afraid this can not wait, unless I feel like running off to Charms without my text book."

"Do you?" Ron asked dumbly, yet hopefully.

Hermione resisted the urge to scoff, giving a small roll of her eyes. She pivoted back around, resuming her rushing up the stairs. She heard exhausted groans from behind her before the sound of the boy's hurried footsteps returned behind her.

"I still don't see why we had to come," Ron complained. "Charms isn't until after lunch!"

"Because, Ronald," Hermione said for what felt like the hundreth time, "you two can help me find my book. It'll be faster with all three of us looking, and that way I'll have my book and we can all get to lunch in less time."

"How did you lose your book anyway?" Harry asked. "You're Hermione Granger, and as I recall, Hermione Granger does not lose books, especially not text books."

She let out a low growl, a little irritated by Harry's playful yet somewhat true jab. She stopped on the staircase as it began to move, slowly rotating toward the staircase for the sixth floor.

"It's not like I meant to lose it, Harry," she said. "I had other things on my mind and happened to leave it somewhere, and for the life of me, I simply could not remember where."

She vaguely heard Ron mutter something about "other things" and "bloody McLaggen" angrily under his breath, but chose to ignore the stupid accusation as the staircase finally stopped at the sixth floor steps. They walked on.

"Well why are we going to the Room of Requirement anyway?" Harry asked curiously. "Why would your book possibly be there?"

"Don't you remember, Harry?" asked Hermione. "When you hid the Half-Blood Prince's book in the Room of Requirement, you said that the room was chock full of hidden things! A huge collection of lost things, hidden things, forgotten things, and I'm positive that my Charms book is in there too!"

"Hermione, that room is huge!" said Harry. "What if we never find it?"

"Then I'll share your book during class, and later we can come back and keep looking," explained Hermione simply as they reached the seventh floor.

"Why don't you just buy a new one?" Ron asked. "Problem solved!"

"Because Ron," said Hermione, agitated, "if my book is in the Room of Requirement, then there's absolutely no point in buying a new book when I can have my old one."

Ron sighed loudly, annoyed. Hermione resisted the urge to hit him as they reached the familiar blank stretch of wall beside the tapestry of dancing trolls. Hermione stepped forward, starting to walk in front of the wall.

I need the room where things are lost. Hermione thought, closing her eyes tight as she walked. I need the room where things are lost. I need the room where things are lost.

As she completed her last stride she opened her eyes, facing the greyed, wrought-iron door that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. For a moment they all stared at the door, as if waiting for it to do backflips.

Hermione, with a sudden, awful thought, peeked out of the corner of her eye at Harry, whose face was set like stone, but a haunted look reigned in his eyes, yet it probably wouldn't have been noticable to anyone else, anyone who didn't know him as well as she did. Ron seemed to be eying Harry a bit warily as well, but Harry didn't seem to notice, watching the door with obvious hesitation.

"Well..." spoke Hermione finally, softly. She nodded her head at the door. "Come on, then."

She reached forward, grasping the door handle and slowly pulling it open. She stepped inside, Harry and Ron trailing after her before the door shut with a gentle click.

Hermione's breath flew out in a whoosh; the room was enormus, and like Harry had said, quite incredible. She was awed by the cathedral-sized room, with its high windows sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls, built of what she realized must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There were alleyways and roads bordered by tetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover half-heartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon eggshells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe. She breathed deeply, taking it all in.

"Look at this place!" Ron exclaimed, half amazed and half ticked. "It's huge! How are we ever going to find your book in this bloody mess!"

"Well," said Hermione softly, calculating, "I suppose... we'll just have to look."

"We'll have to look?" Ron nearly shouted. "That's your big plan? Just to look!"

"Yes, maybe it is, Ronald!" She hissed back, narrowing her eyes. "We may have to 'just look.' Anyway, it looks like the room, as full as it may be, is somewhat organized."

"So?" Harry asked, not unkindly.

"So," Hermione said, "if we look in places where there are lost, hidden, or forgotten books it shouldn't be too hard to find my book." She pointed at a stack of books a few feet away, made up by old books and new books, big and large, thick and thin, roughly the height of Hermione's small form. "My book was just lost recently, so I imagine it can't be buired too far in any of these stacks. We'll each look through stacks in different parts of the room until we find it." She ignored Ron's groan, setting her bag down near the door.

"I'll go this way," she said, pointing down a small pathway on the right. "Harry, you go through that corner-" she pointed at the far left corner, "- and Ron take that one." She pointed at the opposite corner. "We'll meet back here in half an hour for lunch."

Ron grumbled something Hermione didn't catch under his breath, but followed Harry away to the back corners of the Room of Requirement. Hermione ran her fingers exhaustedly through her hair, sighed, and then turned down her chosen path to her chosen corner of the room, leaving their school bags behind.

Twenty-five minutes later, Hermione was getting frustrated. She had searched through approximately forty-two decently sized stacks in her corner of the room, but still had not found anything. She had hoped that this task, as large as it might have seemed, would not have been as difficult as it was becoming. Now, the task felt almost dauntingly impossible; she had hoped to have her own book back before class, but she knew it was quite clear she would be sharing Harry's book for a day... or two... or forever depending on how many books were actually in this stupid room!

At two minutes to their rendezvous, Hermione stood from her cramped position on the dusty floor of her section, surrounded by piles and piles of books, letting out an angry huff and practically throwing down the text book she had been examining: a Charms book no doubt, but dated by a Miranda Wiggins in 1794. Much, much too old to be hers.

She brushed herself off, muttering something unrecognizable- even to herself- under her breath, then sighed in defeat as she started back toward the front of the room, feeling slightly down-hearted. She walked slowly in an absent-minded way, eyes emptily scanning the hidden things around her as she lost herself in thought.

She had really hoped to find her book but... but she almost wondered why she would have to find it anyway!

How did you lose your book anyway? You're Hermione Granger, and as I recall, Hermione Granger does not lose books, especially not text books.

Even joking, Harry had been right.

Hermione huffed to herself distractedly, empty eyes still roaming her surroudings while her mind waged war inside her brain.

Hermione knew she wasn't the kind of person to forget a book, a school book no less. Hermione didn't even remember taking out the book recently. How could she, Hermione Granger, have lost something so valuable to her advancements in her own knowledge! And worse, she didn't even remember when she had used it lately! Hermione wasn't a forgetful person, not in the least, and the idea of losing this book, in full awareness of her slight conceitedness, seemed very improbable in relevance to herself. Hermione was aware she was smart, she was aware she was responsible, and she was certainly aware of the interesting looks she would get in class when they learned that she, Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, Gryffindor Prefect, Miss Insufferable Know-It-All, didn't have her-

Hermione froze in her walk, coming to a quick stop. She gave her full brain a moment to clear and connect the dots before she whirled around, eyes landing on an old cabinet she had just passed, her heart thumping, looking for what her distracted eyes had just suddenly seen.

The cabinet was certainly old, but there was a vintage beauty about its faded deep mahogany color and beautiful design. The wood was dusty in places, but the cabinet still shined with the look of a newly polished exterior. Intricate pictures were carved into the front: a setting sun over vast waters was shown at the bottom, and at the top a birds nest was settled gently between two branches. Along the sides of the cabinet were six smaller pictures: fruits and birds and other things, some Hermione didn't recognize. And there, in the middle of all of the pictures, was carved a beautiful tree with outstretched branches. Leaves covered almost every inch of them, making them lush and full. The entirety of the tree rested upon thick grass. Birds rested among the tree, looking content and graceful. Next to the picture was a thin black knob, small enough to turn between Hermione's first three fingers. It looked almost like the end of a key.

But Hermione was not currently taking her time to admire the cabinet, as beautiful as it was; in fact, she had only spared a less than quick glance at it, for the cabinet's ancient door was propped open, and there at the bottom, holding the door open, the object holding Hermione's attention, just happened to be a very familiar looking Charms text book.

Slowly, with cocked eyebrows and confused eyes, Hermione reached out, pulling the door open wide. She bent down, picking up the book. A quick look inside the cover confirmed it to be hers. She narrowed her eyes curiously, then instinctively looked around the empty area, as if she were expecting someone to pop out and tell her that they had been the one to place the book inside the cabinet. With no luck, as the area around her remained empty and silent, she looked back at her book, tapping her fingers on the cover distractedly as her mind fought for a reasonable explaination as to why her lost Charms book (which was still odd in itself) was shoved between this cabinet's door and its hinge. With no yet explaination, Hermione shook her head, pushing away the headache threatening to invade her senses, then looked up from the book to shut the door.

That's when it caught her eye.

The inside of the cabinet was filled with coats, coat after coat after coat. Furry coats, leather coats, even a rugged pancho hung squished between another coat and the wooden wall at the end of the rack, but Hermione was focused on the small sliver of light that was squeaming between a thick black trench coat and a bright yellow rain jacket. It was a bright yellow color, reminding her of the sun on a cloudless day. Her eyebrows cocking again, her Charms book pressed almost protectively against her chest, she leaned in, peering at the light. She suddenly cocked her head in confusion, leaning toward the light. She was... she was positive she had just heard something. She leaned closer, pressing her ear against the opening between the coats. Was that... wind she was hearing?

She jumped back as a huge gust of air surged through the cabinet, flying out at her, ruffling her hair and clothes. Her heart lept, her eyes wide, and she could not deny it this time: she had definitely felt that air blow at her, there was evidence to be seen.

And just now she had seen something shining behind the coats.

Hermione let out a shaky breath, staring at the light shining between the coats. She gulped, staring oddly inside the cabinet.

"Hermione!"

Hermione jumped again as Harry's call reached her ears. He, and most likely Ron, must have reached the meeting point already, but Hermione was still so far in her area that his call was soft and quiet. It had still frightened her in her jumpy state.

"Hermione, are you ready?" Harry called.

"It's been half an hour, come on!" Ron called, exasperation in his tone. "Hermione!"

Tearing her eyes away from the mysterious cabinet, she looked up the pathway, realizing she must have stood in front of this cabinet longer than she had thought. With a last, seemingly final look at the cabinet, she slowly started down the path with her book, her mind muddled.

She froze when the vague sound of a horse's neigh floated through the cabinet's door.

She looked back, staring incredulously at the cabinet. Every bit of common sense inside of her was screaming crazily, and unless she was going crazy herself (which she really, really, really hoped she wasn't), there was definitely something strange going on here.

Hermione stood there for an elongated moment, staring at the cabinet with wariness. It felt like months had passed by when she finally, slowly, turned back around, walking carefully back toward the cabinet door. With her gut screaming warning after warning at her, and Harry's and Ron's calls fading into the background, she stopped in front of the cabinet, eyes fixed back on the light still shining through the coats.

She made up her mind.

With her unsure decision lingering in her head, Hermione gently set her book down, resting it on the floor next to the cabinet. She took a deep breath, and then, grabbing the insides of the wood to help her in, gently stepped inside the cabinet.

The polished wood door slowly shut behind her with a click.

:| Hmmmmm...

Anyway, I hope the first chapter turned out well :)) I'm really looking forward to this story, and I hope you stay with me on Hermione's quite... interesting adventure. If this story gets some attention and people like it enough, I'll definitely make sure to continue it :)

Don't forget to review!