Author's Note: WHOA! Where in the world have I been, you ask? I'll explain myself in detail after this chapter.

Chapter Ten

Harry stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He'd had another nightmare filled with the same darkness and screaming. Except, this time, he could tell it was a man screaming, his words almost discernible. After he'd woken, sweaty and shaking, Harry couldn't bear the thought of sleeping. The darkness had seemed an unwanted invitation to revisit his dream.

So, he found himself, again, down in the kitchen before the sun had fully risen. It was early morning, and Lily was up making breakfast, per her usual routine. The kitchen was filled with an odd mix of smells, savory and astringent, tickling the inside of Harry's nose. He watched her stare into a large cauldron placed on the stovetop, her lips moving, counting as she stirred slowly. A bell chimed, and with a whispered spell, the stirring stick continued to slowly revolve in the potion as she let go to open the oven, retrieving a pan of muffins. Steam rose from the muffins, and Lily set them down on the counter, well out of the way of the cauldron. She turned to set her oven mitts down and jumped slightly, startled to see Harry standing in the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said softly.

Hand to her chest, Lily laughed. "Just didn't expect to see you standing there."

Harry walked into the kitchen. "I couldn't sleep. Can I help with breakfast?"

She smiled softly, reaching out to lay a hand gently on his arm. "Of course." Her smile deepened. "This is starting to become our routine."

Harry returned her smile and glanced at the cauldron. "What're you making?"

"Antiseptic. James is running low," she said, overturning the muffin pan, the muffins spilling out onto the counter. Lily turned them right side up. "I could use a hand with that, actually."

"Alright." Harry peered cautiously at the black liquid in the cauldron slowly revolving around, guided by the enchanted stirrer.

Lily handed him a small vial filled with a dark yellow-almost brown-powder. "Powdered goldenseal root," she explained. "Keep it stirring as you add the powder, all at once, mind you. Wait thirty seconds, then remove the stick and turn off the heat. It should turn crystal clear once the heat is off."

"Um, you should know I'm useless at potions," he said.

"Well, then you'll need the practice." Lily opened the fridge. "And you best hurry, the potion won't keep much longer in this state."

She turned to rummage in the fridge, and Harry stared down into blackness swirling round and round. Popping the cork out of the vial, he dumped the powder in. It landed in a clump on the surface of the liquid and then quickly dissolved. Harry counted to thirty, removed the stirring stick and reached around for the control knob, he but couldn't find it. There were no knobs, buttons, or gauges for the stovetop.

"How do I turn off the heat?"

"Tap it with your wand," Lily instructed, laying slices of bread into a casserole dish. "It's a magical stove, requires a wand to operate." She laughed lightly. "Though I sometimes forget and go looking for the dials too."

Doing as instructed, the red glow from beneath the cauldron dimmed and then extinguished. Harry stood and watched the potion nervously.

"How'd you do?" Lily looked over Harry's shoulder, placing a hand lightly on his upper back. She carefully judged his reaction.

Harry glanced at her but didn't shrug away. He looked down at the still black potion, disappointed. "I don't think-"

"Oh, there it goes. I never get tired of watching a potion change." She leaned forward as the black lightened to grey and then the color quickly fell away, leaving only a perfectly clear potion. A sharp, biting scent rose from the cauldron. "Smells right," she noted and smiled at Harry, a tinge of maternal pride coloring her voice. "See, not useless afterall."

"Oi, what's that smell?" Sirius entered the kitchen, pulling a face.

James followed him but stopped short, staring at his wife and the cauldron sitting on the stove. "Lily, what are you doing?"

Lily reached for an egg and cracked it on the side of a bowl. "You were low on antiseptic," she said. "So, I brewed you more."

Sirius rubbed at his nose. "Antiseptic, smells about right."

"You didn't have to," James said. "Severus could have-"

"Nonsense." She cracked another egg into the bowl. "It's a simple enough potion. Plus, I had help." She nodded at Harry.

James glanced at him and then at Lily again. "I don't want you to over-"

"James," she said sternly, turning from the casserole dish. "I'm fine."

Sirius stepped forward and touched Harry lightly on the arm. "Let's go outside. I want to talk to you."

They left the warmth of the kitchen and what sounded like a simmering argument. Outside, the snow had begun to melt, dripping off the eaves of the cabin steadily. The sun rose in the east, promising to chase off the bitterness of the cold. At the bottom of the steps, a small path wound off to the right. Sirius lead Harry down the path, walking slowly.

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone?" he began.

"Tell anyone what?"

"Harry." Sirius stopped and turned to face his godson. "You know my meaning."

He sighed. "I don't know." He kicked at some snow on the path. "I didn't want to be a bother."

"You're never a bother," he said. "That would be impossible. You're the least bothersome person I know."

"I just didn't want people to look at me and think, 'Oh, there goes the Boy-Who-Is-Knocked-Around-By-His Relatives.'" Harry stooped and picked up a small stone. "They stare at me enough already."

"You never said anything to Professor Dumbledore?"

"No." Harry chucked the stone into the woods where it smacked against the trunk of a tree. They resumed walking. "He was always on about me needing to live with the Dursleys. Blood magic and everything," he muttered.

"When your mother died, it was her love that protected you," Sirius explained. "And that protection extended to the Dursley's house."

Harry frowned and Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But just because you have blood magic protecting you, doesn't mean you must live there if they are abusive."

Scratching at his arm, Harry pushed the toe of his trainer through the wet snow. "I wouldn't say they were abusive"

"They hit you. That's abuse, Harry. It's not right."

A bird trilled off at a distance in the forest. Harry turned and looked off in the direction of the bird's call. "I don't know why we have to make a big deal about this."

"James and Lily, they're really upset," Sirius said.

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize, if that is what you were going to do," Sirius said sternly. "Don't ever apologize for what they did to you. You're not at fault in this, Harry. You should have been taken care of, and back home we failed to do that." They stopped walking again, and Sirius took Harry's arm and turned him around so they were face-to-face. "I understand why you may have been reluctant to tell any of your teachers, but what about me? Why didn't you ever say anything to me?"

Harry sighed and turned away, Sirius letting him.

"I don't know, Sirius." He crossed his arms and hugged himself. "I just don't know. By the time I knew you, it was just how it was." Harry let his arms drop, and he looked up at his godfather. "I didn't see the point."

"You didn't see the point? I am your godfather. It's my job to take care of you."

"I know"

"Do you?" Sirius leaned down to look at Harry's face. "Because I don't think you know what that even means. It means your well being is my concern. I want to know if you're happy or sad, if you have pain, if you have a nightmare or a problem. I am here for you."

"Ok."

"Do you understand?"

Harry rubbed at his face. "Yeah."

"Can you look at me and say that?"

Harry looked up. A sharp pain shoved its way into Sirius' chest. It hurt to see the shame in his godson's green eyes, to know that he had essentially failed as a godfather. Sirius reached forward and slowly pulled Harry to him, wrapping his arms around the boy.

"I love you, kid," he said. "I love you more than life itself."

OOO

After breakfast, Harry had his first Occlumency lesson with Remus. Remus lived at the edge of the Potter's property, accessed by walking down a path leading off from the field. The path leading up to the front door was slushy with melting snow. Harry stamped his feet as he ascended the three steps and knocked on the door, a tin of leftover breakfast casserole in one hand.

"It's open," a voice called from inside.

Harry entered through the door and into a small, but comfortably furnished, sitting room. Bookshelves lined the walls and two lamps on side tables beside the couch lit the room in a soft glow. Through the doorway on the other side of the room, a light shone.

"I'm in the kitchen," Remus said. "Come on in."

Kicking off his shoes and leaving them on the mat just inside the door, Harry crossed the room. The kitchen was bright and airy and Remus stood at the stove, a green tea kettle whistling. Two empty mugs sat on the counter.

"Hey, Greeneyes," he said, picking up the kettle. "You know, you don't have to knock. You can just walk in. I don't mind."

"Alright," he replied, setting the tin down on the counter.

Remus finished pouring the tea, set the kettle down, and nodded at the tin. "What's this?"

"Leftovers," Harry explained. "From breakfast."

"Lily does like to take care of people," he commented, reaching into a small fridge for cream. "Not that I'm complaining." He nodded at one of the mugs. "Tea's for you-chamomile to help you relax. Sugar's on the counter."

Harry added a generous amount of sugar and cream to his tea and followed Remus, who took his tea strong and plain, into a small library with a fire already lit in the fireplace. Like the sitting room, the library was filled with bookshelves except for one wall where a desk sat beneath the window, books and rolls of parchment were stacked neatly. Sipping his tea, Harry glanced through the stack of books. One caught his eye, and he pulled the book from the stack.

"Parallel Universes: The Search for Other Worlds," he read.

"I've been researching what brought you and Sirius here," he said, hands wrapped around his mug of tea. "A muggle man wrote that book. I think wizards don't give muggles enough credit. They are capable of astounding intelligence and perception of the world around them."

"What do you think brought us here?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," Remus took a drink of his tea, his eyes trained on Harry. "Albus has a few Order members looking into it, including me. Muggles, oddly enough, tend to have a firmer grasp on the universe and this thing they call quantum mechanics than wizards do." Scratching at his chin, Remus gestured to one of the cushioned armchairs set before the fire. "Sit, finish your tea," he instructed.

"Do you think there's a way back to my world?" Harry asked and remained standing.

"We don't know enough, yet, about what brought you here. The arch you and Sirius passed through is supposed to be a divider between the world of the living and the dead. Obviously," he continued, gesturing to the fifteen-year-old, "it is not functioning as such."

"Why not?"

"That is a question I don't have the answer to, yet." Remus pointed at the armchair across from the fire. "Sit and drink your tea."

Harry did as instructed, the warm and milky tea soothing. He relaxed back into the chair as Remus dragged the other chair around to face Harry. Finished with his tea, Harry set the mug down on the table beside him.

"So, how do we do this?" Harry asked.

"The first thing any Occlumens needs to learn is to gain control of their thoughts, to clear their mind."

Harry grimaced. "I'll warn you. I'm pretty much rubbish at clearing my mind."

"You had a poor teacher," Remus said. "I understand Severus Snape taught you in your world?"

Harry nodded.

"Severus is a very talented Occlumens, but he goes about teaching it all wrong." Remus settled back in his chair, one ankle crossed on the opposite knee. "Occlumency and Legilimency are skills that come naturally to him. So, he doesn't understand the processes that the rest of us need to go through to get control of our own subconscious."

"He was always going on about clearing my mind and focusing." Old anxiety and anger rose in Harry. "I didn't know what to focus on."

Remus nodded with understanding. "Some people will tell you that clearing your mind is to think of nothing. I always found that a challenge. Trying not to think often had the opposite effect. I found a different method useful. Rest your head against the back of the chair and close your eyes," he instructed.

Doing as instructed, Harry fidgeted slightly.

"I want you to focus on your breathing." Remus leveled his voice, speaking in quiet measures. "Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. It should be slow and steady."

Harry inhaled slowly, noting his lungs and chest expanding, and then he relaxed as air rushed out of his mouth.

"Good," Remus said quietly. "Keep doing that. Get comfortable enough with that so your breathing pattern becomes almost automatic."

He continued, in and out, simultaneously aware of everything around him. The feel of the chair's fabric, the taste of his tea still lingering in his mouth, the crackle and radiant heat from the fire, Remus' presence a short distance from him. An interaction from earlier that morning came to mind between him and Sam, the younger boy surly and angry. Lily's voice, scolding Sam, floated through Harry's mind. He remembered the potion he had helped brew and relived, briefly, the surprise at not botching it in the end.

"Alright, now I want you to choose to think of something vast but simple," Remus said. "It should be something you find calming and something you can visualize in your mind. It will be your anchor. Once you've chosen, continue with your breathing exercise and visualize your anchor." Remus paused, allowing Harry time.

Harry thought of the ocean, the widest expanse of dark blue water he could conjure in his mind. A light wind coursed over the water's surface, scattering the moon's reflection.

"Just focus on your anchor and your breathing. Distractions will come. Acknowledge them and let them move on," Remus said.

Taking a deep breath, Harry focused on the water. It made him sleepy and he worried for a brief moment if he was doing it right. He didn't think he should doze off in the middle of his lesson with Remus. But then, Remus' words repeated themselves in his head and Harry decided to let his worries go, pushing them away as if they were just waves in the water. With each thought that came, he did the same, sending each out into the water as waves.

A log in the fire popped. Harry jumped.

"It's just background noise." Remus' voice came softly, gently. "Just let go."

Harry let go, taking note of all the sounds around him and pushing them out into the water. He continued breathing. In and out. A smooth and slow cycle that he found calming. He sat like that, eyes closed, for how long he couldn't have said until Remus touched his knee.

"Harry."

He opened his eyes.

"You did well," Remus said.

"I did?"

The other man nodded. "What did you chose as your anchor?"

"The ocean."

Remus nodded. "A useful anchor," he said. "I want you to practice this exercise several times a day and directly before you go to sleep at night. The more comfortable you become at drawing up your anchor, easier you will be able to clear your mind."

OOO

Harry walked back to Whitehaven slowly, feeling calm and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like forever. As he walked between the two tall trees, the cabin popping into sight, James exited the back door, zipping his coat up, and nodded at Harry.

"You have time for a walk?" He asked. "We need to talk about something."

"Alright," Harry said nervously.

It had been a few days since his conversation with James about the Dursleys and he'd said very little to the older man since then. James began walking down the same path Harry had walked with Sirius earlier that day. and Harry followed reluctantly. The memory of embarrassment and shame rose in him, and Harry wanted nothing but to forget the entire conversation. James said nothing as they walked until they came upon a bench and James sat down.

"Sit down," James gestured beside him as Harry hesitated.

Slowly, Harry sat down, eyes downcast on the ground.

"You asked several days ago about your friend, Hermione Granger's counterpart in this world," James began.

Harry looked up.

Sighing, James looked at Harry. "I had someone in the Order find out what happened to her." He paused and looked away as if pulling together his thoughts.

"Where is she?"

James rubbed his hands together. "Many years ago the Muggleborn Registry Act was passed. The government supporters of the act said it was supposed to protect Muggleborns and provide them means of hiding from Voldemort and his followers. Instead, the list of Muggleborns was handed directly to Voldemort."

Harry ground his teeth together and looked away.

"He spent many years trying to wipe Muggles and Muggleborns from existence. While he wasn't successful with Muggles, he nearly was with Muggleborns." James grew quiet and he turned to the boy. "Harry-"

An awful feeling welled up in his chest, constricting his lungs. "Just tell me." Harry struggled to control his breathing. "What happened to her?"

"Hermione and her parents were murdered by Death Eaters many years ago," James said slowly.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry dropped his head. A hand came to rest gently on his back. "Harry-"
"Did she suffer?"

James closed his eyes, remembering the description in the copy of the old report he'd obtained detailing the scene. He wanted to lie, to protect Harry from the knowledge that the girl had died a horrific death. But, looking at the boy, James knew he couldn't.

"Please, just tell me." Harry turned, green eyes pleading. "Did she suffer?"

"Yes."

It seemed as if his heart stopped for a brief moment, painful and immediate in his chest. Harry felt James shift closer to him and he shifted away.

"Do you know where she's buried? I want to visit her grave."

James shook his head. "No, but I'll find out where she is."

Author's Note: So, where have I been? I have been participating in the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. (And I'll continue participating for several months) I am on the Falmouth Falcons and I am their Seeker. And I LOVE it! It is such an experience and my life is filled with so much awesomeness right now. But that required The Other Side to be placed on hold for a while. I had to sort out my life schedule because now I am busy! You should know that new chapters here will be slow, but I plan to continue writing. I also need to create an actual, functional outline for this story because things are quickly going to get complicated if I don't.

If you want to check out some of what I have written for the QLFC, go have a look at my profile. We're currently on Round 3.

Author's Note2: Parallel Universes: The Search for Other Worlds is a real Muggle book by Fred Alan Wolf.