Chapter 3 – Rendezvous
It was with a strange sense of trepidation and confidence that the three approached a copse of trees to the east end of temperate house, the place they had predicted each other would head. Hermione arrived first, after successfully removing herself from the company of her sister, something which was not nearly as challenging as she thought it would be; she had flagged down the Knight Bus and one jolting ride and brisk walk later here she was. With nothing to do but wait, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for the others to arrive.
Within ten minutes of this she was already allowing paranoia too invade her mind, and even her scolding that she was being irrational did not abate it. As she paced in the confined space, the sight of glitter in her peripheral vision caused her to pause, immediately reassessing the area for danger. It was her nails. Her now perfectly manicured and bejewelled nails sparkling in the dim light that filtered through the leave and branches. The little pink, ornate flowers on baby blue background seemed almost planned for her visit here, the sheer ludicrously of this caused her to stifle a laugh, the thought of being discovered quenching her laughter before she had conscience thought. Whilst thoroughly inappropriate the decorated nails did bring to life something in her she hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
For if this version of her was able to indulge in such vain pursuits then surely this was a safe place. A place where she may be able to not constantly watch her back, where targets were no longer on their backs, where there was no longer a duty or expectation to fight. She wondered how they would cope with that. They hadn't made any plans on what they would do upon entering the new universe. There were simply too many variables. As well as a sheer desperation to get away from where they were, nothing could be as bad as staying in the ruins of their world. A place they had seen deteriorate before their eyes, and played a part in destroying, if they were completely honest with themselves. And of course, they had had their mind-link at the time and didn't even factor in losing it, a mistake which Hermione was now berating herself for.
'The boys would still be up for 1a fight,' she thought to herself, because approve of it or not, they had been fighting for the last five years of their lives, training for it for longer, and old habits die hard. Added to that was Harry's superhero complex, he would go in running at even the hint of danger to an innocent or if even an inkling of Death Eaters existing reaches him, Ron being the dutiful best friend and lover that he was would follow him in; Hermione would either watch from afar protecting them through Intel or fighting alongside them. She preferred to fight alongside them, but despite her being just as capable as her boys, they were prone to trying to protect her on the battlefield – putting themselves in further, unnecessary danger. It was both flattering and infuriating.
She was startled from her reverie by soft male voices and soft footsteps crunching leaves underfoot heading in her direction. Despite her young, untrained body, Hermione twisted around into a long practised defensive, her wand slipping agilely from her makeshift arm holster into her hand. As they approached the voices began to sound familiar, yet remained indistinctive until they came into view, and what appeared to be a young Ron and Harry walking hand in hand into view.
They, like her, took on a defensive pose, but she could see her own relief at seeing them reflected in their eyes. Yet no amount relief will have them abandon protocol which has been drummed into them for years and proved to be lifesaving on numerous occasions.
"What's my animagus form?" Hermione questions them after a moment of soaking up their appearance.
"Anuria, a barn owl with feathers that match your hair," Harry answers correctly, but before any of them move out of their defensive stances Ron asks her his security question.
"How did we first meet?" he inquires.
"I came into your carriage on the Hogwarts express at the start of our first year; I was looking for Neville's toad, Trevor," a wry smile glancing across her features as she remembers an easier time. All pretence of formality and wariness vanished in a single moment as the three converge on each other in a three way hug. Very similar to the last one they shared on the world that they were born in. Only this time the scene was lit with mid-morning sun and the smell of flowers and life permeated the air as they reassured themselves of the wellbeing of each other and shared the occasional chaste kiss.
Hermione broke the tranquil scene first, though she did not let go of ether of them, unwilling to be without their physical presence for a moment more than necessary.
"How come you two arrived together?" she asked a shade jealous that they had been reunited quicker than her.
"Quirk of fate," Harry shrugged, "I stepped out of the floo mere seconds before Ron came through, and we decided to make our way here together."
"It's so strange, don't you think," Ron added, "seeing everything whole and not in smoking ruins, I wonder how long that'll last?"
"Well, from what I gathered from the few books on recent magical history and Daily Prophets I had at home, I think this timeline is much the same," Hermione confidently answered, easily slipping into the role of providing pertinent information; a job she'd been doing for years, "Events since Halloween 1981 have been much the same, bar the fact that Neville Longbottom was declared the Boy-Who-Lived. Personally I have some changes to my family, which could mean there are many different people strolling around which weren't here last time."
"Yeah, my parents are alive here," Harry said suddenly serious as he allowed for the implications of these words to sink in, "And I kind of expected it to be Neville once I ascertained that neither of my sisters had the scar." The revelation of the size Harry's family wasn't lost on is companions as they drew him in closer for comfort, here was the family he had always longed for, but he didn't know them.
"My family's changed to," Ron interjected gruffly, or as close to his previous gruffness as his unbroken voice could achieve, "Percy simply doesn't exist," shock emanated from the group, "but the twins are now triplets, still identical painfully enough" he continued with a sigh. The concept of three Weasley twins was hard to comprehend. The sheer magnitude of the mayhem they would now be capable of unleashing was daunting even to the battle hardened youths.
Sitting down as one they continued to exchange their observations of the lives here they had picked up in the last few hours. It was established that Martha was in fact one year younger than Hermione, and a muggle terrified of magic; resulting in her hating Hermione. Eric position in the Weasley family was easily established, but his influence on the dynamics hard to pin-point. The survival of Lily and James Potter was also a point of confusion, as to the influence that had on the wizarding world no one could really tell. Viola, the red headed girl at breakfast, was determined to be Harry's twin sister, owing to the large array of photos taken at matching birthday cakes and clothes, the difference only found in colouring and style as they grew. Hazel was determined to be an older sister by two years, she could be of some usefulness, if the relationship between her and Harry worked in their favour.
Categorising new and missing people into the possible implications they could have was tremendously difficult as they had no true way to separate out what other impacts could have arisen due to their existence or inexistence. Abandoning this seemingly useless thread of action, they decided to just go with the flow, only interfering when they were sure of events or that they would have a positive effect. Absolving this issue wasn't the end of their problems however.
"So we're underage again, are we under the trace or has our mental age negated that?" Ron inquired.
"Well, I tried a simple summoning charm at home and received a letter moments later, so unfortunately it appears we are under that restriction," Hermione answered morosely, desperately wishing she could have reported the opposite, 'just another obstacle to overcome,' she thought glumly.
"But could we still preform the ritual to bring our mind link back?" Harry interjected, a slight trace of desperation and worry leaking into his voice.
"In theory I suppose…" Hermione trailed off, mentally going over the procedure and requirements of the aforementioned ritual. The boys stayed silent, recognising that interrupting now would only mean getting yelled at, and possibly hit. "Yes I think we could," Hermione said brightly after a few minutes, "there's no direct magic used through a wand and it's based primarily on occulmency and blood magic, both of which are hard for the ministry to pick up and would be considered too advanced for under aged witch or wizard to complete. It is quite likely that if they do pick up a trace, we will be long gone before they locate our position, but it may mean giving up the place as a safe spot."
With this she watched the expressions of joy, trepidation, calculation and determination slip across the boys' faces in varying intensities and order. Nods from both, however, determined that they would go through with it here and now and simply use other meeting points; this was of more long term importance.
Hermione quickly set about etching the required runes into the ground in the middle of their makeshift circle, grateful once again for her photographic memory. Whilst she was doing this, the boys looked around for something to cut their palms for the binding part of the ritual. A sharp rock a little way away was found suitable, and the two exchanged giddy smiles at the hope of part of their previous intimacy returning. Within fifteen minutes they were ready to begin – being constantly on the run and under threat had its advantages to improving efficiency.
They sat in the circle solemnly, cutting each palm and passing the stone clockwise around the circle. As Hermione cut her left palm and placed the stone on the ground, they grasped hands and began to chant. Within moments a soft silver glow emanated from their grasped hands and begun a complicated weaving pattern between the trio, as seconds ticked past, they felt the prior awareness of each other they had held previously return bit by bit. By the time the chanting had ended hey were fully aware of the emotions each was feeling, all of which was giddy happiness at the moment.
"How come I can't hear your thoughts?" Ron questioned, momentarily worried.
"Don't you remember? That won't develop for another few days, possibly weeks depending on our proximity and magical strength," Hermione supplied helpfully.
"Feeling each other's emotions are a lot better than nothing at all, at least now we can be sure that all of us are safe." Harry added, a comment met by fervent nods.
"As much as I hate to be the one pointing this out, we should head back to our houses before anyone's suspicions are raised," Hermione pointed out in her informative voice, failing to hide her morose feelings at this disclosure. Unfortunately no one could argue against that logic, and barely hiding tears they made their temporary farewells with quick hugs and kisses, departing in separate directions. All of them wondering, how they would be able to cope sleeping alone for the first time in five years.