The canoe drifted on through the night. Heavy clouds loomed above, and beyond them was a full, rising moon that seemed to give a back light to the whole sky.

The rains brought by the clouds were steady, but lighter than before. Harry was huddled in the foetal position under the canopy in the bow, listening to the patter of the rain with unblinking, unfocused eyes, feeling this soul-sore ache all through him. His sobs dwindled to tears that fell as persistently as the rain. He had forgotten all concept of how to think, how to speak, how to even be.

Hermione adjusted the blanket closer around Harry's shuddering frame. He was ever so cold, but it was more than just visceral heat that his body was lacking. His energy was low, as if the very fire of his life had gone out. It was the sting of heartsick loneliness, of dæmon-less-ness, the unbidden after-chill of Separation. Hermione had not forgotten her own experience from when she and Papageno had suffered so terribly in this way themselves.

She knew there was little that she could do, other than to be there to help Harry through these, difficult early hours. She would do what she could to ease his suffering, to stop him physically withdrawing. She would hold him close, to try and ease his nerve-searing residual pain, not giving his tortured mind any time to decide that all sorts of touch was bound to hurt his raw and fragile body. She'd whisper to him to distract him from the sudden bouts of nausea. She'd dry his eyes out of sight, so that only she and the night would absorb his tears in secret.

And she wouldn't leave him alone, wouldn't allow his mind the chance to settle on any sort of ideas of loneliness or abandonment or isolation. She'd felt all that when Papageno went away from her and it was just the very worst part of it all. So she laid with Harry through the night, held him tight in her warm embrace, doing all she could think of to ease him and soothe him. Eventually, after a few hours, Harry cried himself out and his exhausted body finally condemned him to a restless sleep.

At that point, Hermione had to admit she'd done all she could and needed to leave Harry to rest and acclimatise to his new paradigm in his own time and way. All she could content herself with was the certainty that this wasn't like what had happened to her parents. Harry was profoundly wounded, hurting in ways he'd never known he could hurt before. Hermione knew all that and more, and her memories seethed raw and painful in her own heart.

But Harry was still with her, he was still alive ... alive enough to hurt and ache and feel, even in these most terrible of ways. That was something, some crumb of comfort in a mind so overwrought with anxiety and concern that Hermione could absolutely no longer doubt the veracity of her own feelings for the wounded boy under her care.

She loved Harry, she loved this boy with every fibre of her being. If she hadn't known it already, the act of Papageno ... her heart, her love, her soul ... bravely offering to stay with Harry's complimentary part would have told her all she needed to know. It would have connected all of those final, niggling dots for her.

And now it had.

And Hermione Granger knew that she didn't just love Harry ... she was actually in love with him. She knew it as certainly as the heat of the sun, the glow of the moon or the sweep of the Aurora. This thing that had driven her to cross worlds, that had been so richly promised by Dust, had finally happened here, on this swollen, rampaging river.

It was a curious analogy to compare it to how her own hammering heart was feeling.

A wild, euphoric sort of sensation hit her as she thought that, as she felt it, with her arms around the boy she loved so much, as she looked up at the few stars managing to peek through the heavily-clouded night. 'What a strange place to realise this!', Hermione thought to herself. She was fourteen, she was on a canoe drifting to who-knows-where, and she was being hunted by a crazed, murderous witch.

But none of that mattered a jot, because here, in that canoe, under these stars, Hermione was comforting the boy she loved so dearly ... and the knowledge that she was the only one who could sent her senseless with joy. She'd never been so covetous of anything in her entire life.

And then Seren began to mewl in hungry discomfort.

Hermione sat up, shivery and trembly from her moment of monumental understanding. She didn't want to let Harry go, didn't want to move out of range of contact with him. So she lifted Seren gently to her chest, readjusted herself so that she was sitting at Harry's shoulders, then eased his sleeping head into her lap as she quietly began to feed his grumbling baby sister.

Neville was gamely trying to keep the canoe straight on the fast current. He had no idea what he was doing, but they were upright and avoiding hazards so he was quite pleased with himself. But he was also ashamed ... ashamed to have been witness to Harry's breakdown. He was sure Harry wouldn't have wanted him to see that, but Neville had no option but to watch.

And he'd never felt such pity for anyone in his whole life. Harry's pain ... Neville could almost feel it in his own heart, as if his own hidden dæmon was crying out at the torment Harry and Marici were suffering. He'd never seen anything like it, never heard anything like it ... and he knew he wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

He was extremely glad for Hermione being there for Harry, felt lucky on his behalf that she was there to take care of him so completely. Neville watched as she diligently looked after him, kept him warm, kept him company, dried the tears that Neville would later pretend not to have seen. Nothing was too much for her and damned the world that might have seen and judged and gossiped.

And Neville realised then ... Hermione doesn't just fancy Harry, which he already knew, ... she's in love with him!

It was weird to see it blossom so blatantly in front of his eyes, as though Hermione had let her guard down in this extreme moment and the truth had exploded from behind her shields. Neville felt guilty for watching, as though he were intruding on the forbidden, but he couldn't help it. There was something tender, cosy, even satisfying about seeing this in action. His two best friends, who had been skirting around each other with their puppy love for ages, had now matured into something else entirely ... and it filled Neville with all sorts of warmth that they had.

Or, at least, one of them had.

Neville watched as Hermione stirred, rose and then responded to the cries of the baby as if she knew innately what each one meant already. She was patient, bright eyed ... she hummed to baby Seren as she fed her on her lap ... well, the part of her lap that wasn't now taken up by Harry's head.

Sure that Harry was still asleep, Neville finally felt brave enough to speak again.

"How is he?"

Hermione looked up with sadness in her expression. "He'll be hurting. Hurting badly. He'll feel lost, alone, broken. It wont be easy for him to wake up and face the dawn without his dæmon."

"I've never seen anything like that," Neville muttered. "I've never seen anyone hurt like that before."

"Just hope you never have to experience it," Hermione grimaced. "It's not something you ever fully recover from."

Neville blinked a few times. "Oh, of course! ... you've been through this!" Hermione nodded in mute confirmation. "And ... was it just as bad for you?"

Hermione nodded again. "Just as bad. Not made any easier by the fact that my Pap and I chose to do it. The pain was unrelenting. I couldn't describe it adequately if I tried for a century. It was made all the more difficult for Harry because of the shock element. It happened quite fast. With me and Pap, we ran back twice and almost changed our minds ... first me, then him ... before finally doing it on the third attempt."

"But Harry and his dæmon were torn apart against their will," Neville nodded sagely. "I can see how that might be a bit worse. But will he be okay? Will he recover? I mean, you did."

Hermione sighed heavily. "I never completely recovered. There's still a part of me that hurts. There always will be ... but I've become used to it over the years. It will be the same for Harry, and only he can decide how he'll cope with it."

"But its not like Separation Shock? Like what happened to your parents or ... or mine?"

Hermione smiled over in pity. "No ... no, I don't think so. It probably wont put your mind as ease, but your parents wouldn't have suffered like that. They Separated from their dæmons out of necessity, to stay alive ... but then they were already in incredible pain on account of their torture, I imagine. By the time the dæmons left them they probably didn't know much about anything, anyway."

"That's a small comfort, I suppose," Neville frowned. "But my parent's dæmons got put back inside them, didn't they? Harry's Godfather invented a spell for it. Could he do that for Harry? Would it help him recover?"

"He offered, when Harry came back from High Brasil with Marici now external to him," Hermione confessed. "But Harry decided to keep her as she was and explore the connection. I know how deeply he's become attached to her ever since ... this must be so hard for him."

"But you Separated from your dæmon and it seems to be okay," Neville went on. "Will it be the same for Harry and his one?"

"In time," Hermione nodded. "But it wont be easy, and there will be a lot more pain to come. He just needs to get through these first few days with his mind intact."

"And then he will need to find his dæmon again," Neville mused. "Will they be okay on that island?"

"I have no doubt," Hermione replied, confidently. "My Pap is clever and smart and ever so brave. He'll know to find somewhere to lay low until we come back for them, and he can take care of Marici until then."

"While you look after Harry."

"I might be the only one who can."

"You'll deserve a medal after all this," Neville quirked. "Taking care of Harry and his little sister ... his parents will love you forever."

Hermione smiled shyly and turned her eyes back to Seren. "I don't know about all that. But we do need to try and find somewhere safe to go. I just cant think of anywhere that Bellatrix cant follow."

"We need to get back to our parents," Neville advised. "They can protect us from Lestrange. Especially if they were just fighting You-Know-Who."

Hermione scrunched her features. "Why do you call him that?"

"Why? I suppose because everyone does."

"Are you afraid of saying the name?"

"No."

"I think you are," Hermione frowned. "You know, if you keep up with all this You-Know-Who nonsense you'll end up being so afraid of his real name that you wont be able to say it at all. You wont be able to say Thomas Riddle, or even that stupid title of Lord Voldemort. And just imagine how afraid that will make you of the actual wizard? If you ever ran into him you'd probably pass out with fear. You're just handing him an easy advantage over you."

"No shame in that," Neville huffed. "Most people are afraid of him. He is the most powerful wizard going."

"But even he's afraid of someone," Hermione reminded him. "Hagrid once told me that Voldemort was genuinely scared of Professor Dumbledore. I'd say he was the most powerful wizard around. It's a shame he's not here, actually, as we could really use his help."

Just then, Hermione felt an odd warmth against her lower back. That was where her yew wand with the phoenix feather core was stowed. For some reason, it felt as though it were producing its own heat, which had never happened before. At the same time, Harry stirred slowly and looked up in confusion.

"Ouch!"

"What is it?" Hermione asked in immediate concern. "Where do you hurt?"

"My arm, my arm!" Harry winced. "It's burning!"

Hermione quickly reached into Harry's sleeve. There she found the little wand compartment that Sirius had suggested Harry get included into all his upper body clothes. Harry's wand was stored there and, like one of Hermione's own, it was very hot to the touch. Hermione took it out and laid it on the bench of the canoe.

"Better."

"Mmm," Harry murmured, his voice still strained and croaky. Hermione felt her heart bleed as she heard it, as she registered how much pain Harry was still in.

Then she looked down at his wand on the bench. On instinct, she reached for her own and held them together in the same hand. Suddenly, a burst of energy smashed into her like a tidal surge. It was so powerful she had to brace herself against the gunwale with her free hand, before quickly snapping it back to Seren before she was dropped onto her head. Hermione was tingly, as if she'd just been electric shocked, but she felt very invigorated nonetheless

A flash of understanding came to Hermione's mind. "Harry! Take these! Do it now!"

Harry looked up with one eye, weary and wary. "What?"

"Take these wands," Hermione urged, feeling relieved that Harry could at least still speak. "One of them is yours, the other is mine with the twin core. Hold them in your hands ... it might help."

Doubtfully, Harry reached up and took the wands from Hermione. She felt another flash in her own heart as the wands merged and shocked Harry like a magical defibrillator. He closed his eyes and moaned deeply in his chest. That had helped. He urged it again, he needed more.

And the wands responded. Seven times Harry asked, and seven times the wands gave him what he needed. He wasn't enough to heal him, it didn't take away the pain, but it gave him the impetus to sit up at least. Hermione beamed broadly as he looked up to face her.

"Thanks ... for everything," Harry smiled with a weak whisper. He handed Hermione back her wand. "I'd have never survived last night if it wasn't for you."

"You'd have done it for me," Hermione hushed shyly.

"I hope I never have to do anything like that for you ... but, yeah, I would have," Harry nodded briefly. "So thanks. I know I have an annoying habit of not appreciating you, so just know that I wont forget this. I owe you."

"I'm sure I'll think of a suitable repayment," Hermione muttered in that painfully shy tone. She curled her eyes up cautiously. "Do I need to ask how you're feeling?"

Harry shuddered under the blanket as a wave of grief hit him again. Then he snapped his eyes back to Hermione as if seeing her for the first time. Tentatively, he reached over and squeezed her free hand in both his own. Her heart cartwheeled beneath her ribs as the soft contact.

"No ... because I know that you know," Harry whispered gently, looking down at their joined hands. His thumbs traced nervous, uncertain circles across the back of Hermione's wrist, leaving her slightly breathless and fidgety. "And I know now too, about you, in ways I never did before. And I wont forget that, either. I owe you a lifetime of thank yous. Where can I start?"

"How about finding us a way home," Hermione joked lightly. "That'd be a great help."

"I think the wands are trying to tell us something," Harry went on quietly. "They are joined, they are brothers, and we have them for a reason. That isn't just coincidence. It must be more important than that."

"Maybe there's a hidden spell," Hermione pondered. "Maybe there's a way to bring us help."

As soon as she said the word, there was a flash of fire above them. Neville called out in alarm at something he could see above the canopy that was blocking Harry and Hermione's view. So they busied themselves folding back the canopy until they could see what Neville was seeing.

And Hermione clasped onto Harry's arm with her free hand.

"It's a phoenix!" she exclaimed in shock. Then she held the baby up so she could see, as she was grumbling at being left out. "Look, Seren, it's an actual phoenix!"

And it was. There, ahead of the prow of La Belle Sauvage II, the magnificent bird was soaring over the flood waters. His red and gold plumage shimmered like a reflection of the sun, lighting up the dark air all around the canoe. Harry watched a moment as the bird sang out a trilling note, which caused Harry to gasp as it filled his ears, his chest, his very broken heart. It was like swallowing a pill of joy itself.

"It's ... he's ... here to help us," Harry croaked, tears of hope welling behind his eyes at the promise of happiness that he was sure he'd never feel again. "Somehow, I think you summoned him, Hermione."

She turned in awestruck understanding, looking at her wand, then at Harry's, then at the still singing phoenix in quick succession. Then she utterly beamed at Harry. "Is this ... Harry! ... do you think this is the phoenix who gave a feather for my wand?"

"And who only gave one other," Harry added, echoing the words of Mr Ollivander spoken all those years ago. "One for my wand."

"Oh, Harry! ..."

Hermione looked fit to burst with ... something. Harry wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he felt it too. His entire chest was full up with it. He could hardly breathe for the way it had suddenly taken over him.

"We can call on a phoenix to help us!" Hermione hushed in disbelief. "But how can he help us now?"

"Phoenixes can travel great distances, carry many times their body weight, and are incredibly loyal," Harry replied, as if reciting the textbook.

Hermione noticed that too and laughed. "You sound like me!"

"That can never be a bad thing," Harry grinned back.

That's when he noticed it ... he could still do it! He could grin! He could still smile ... which meant he could still feel, he could still be happy. His heart wasn't dead at all! He could feel! And if he could, that meant Marici could, too ... it meant she was okay, wherever she was. She'd survived the night as well.

And Harry was filled up with yet more with whatever this feeling was that was surging through him, so powerful that it was almost overwhelming.

For he knew, wherever his dæmon might be, that she was alright, she was safe, and more importantly ... she wasn't alone.

You'll never be alone ...

The words echoed in Harry's head a moment, shaking his skull like he'd been struck by a gong. He looked earnestly at Hermione, her ethereal voice still ricocheting around in his brain. He watched her showing Seren the phoenix, caring for her, as she'd cared for him on this worst night of his life.

And he felt proud. Proud of her, proud to know her, utterly blessed to be anything like a friend to her, so lucky to have this friend in his life. But she wasn't just a friend, was she? Not really, not even a best friend. That was so inadequate a title for her. It had been the longest time since it didn't quite fit.

But what else could he call her? A little voice whispered in his heart that there was another name he could give to her, if he was brave enough to try for it. It was a name other people had teasingly given to her for him already. He'd brushed them off dozens, no hundreds of times, probably. Harry sat back and marvelled at it now.

Had they all been right this entire time?

Harry shivered with the understanding that they just might have been. His heart was thundering against his ribcage. He was sure it might pop out at any minute. He couldn't feel this ... he wasn't supposed to yet ... he was far too young. They both were.

But then Hermione flicked a coy, random look at him ... her eyes sparkled a second as they fell on his face ... and Harry's universe completely opened up and threatened to take the canoe, the water and the floor from beneath him ...

... because he knew she felt this too.

He couldn't have said how he knew so surely, he just did. From eyeballs to bones, as Hermione once said. His breath left him in a rush, his mind was whirring at breakneck speed, he felt dizzy, sick, exhilarated, terrified, hot, cold, dry, moist ... and everything else he'd forgotten to list in between. His entire world had changed with a single look.

And the understanding sharpened his mind like a dagger. They had to get home, he had to get them to safety.

"The phoenix has come to help!" Harry cried, standing up as though infused with a new energy. "Phoenix! Help us! Please!"

The great creature seemed to hear ... and responded to the plea. He turned in the air, soared high, and then headed straight for the canoe. When he reached the top of the exposed canopy he took it in his powerful talons, sang out a final note to help them all be calm, and then whipped the whole thing away from the flood waters in a flash of phoenix-fire Apparition.

La Belle Sauvage II hit dry land with a heavy thud. Not only that, but they were now very obviously indoors. How strange.

"Thank you, Phoenix," Harry said, stroking the scarlet plumage with a nervous finger.

"Actually, Harry, his name is Fawkes."

"Professor Dumbledore -" Harry began to shout in glee, as they were obviously saved, but just then a pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him from the canoe, before trying to squash the life out of him it seemed.

"Harry! My boy! You're alive! Thank Merlin!"

James Potter squeezed his son for all he was worth, then suddenly Harry was transferred to Sirius, who was no less vigorous with his bone-crushing hug.

"Be careful with him!" Hermione squeaked. "He's ... fragile."

Sirius pulled away quickly, assessing Harry for any damage. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, and some dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, Harry looked remarkably unharmed.

"What's the mat -" Sirius began ... and then he noticed. All colour drained from his face. He looked over at Hermione in alarm. "Marici? Where is Chi?"

Hermione just shook her head sadly. She couldn't bring herself to say. The wound was still too fresh, even for her. Sirius howled in pity and dragged Harry back to his chest, which caused Harry to break down again, too. Where was Chi? He missed her so much.

And then he was being hugged from his other side, by female arms. He opened his eye, expecting perhaps to see his mother, so it came as quite the surprise to find Lyra's chestnut-blonde hair flowing down the side of his face. Lyra had never hugged Harry before, but, as he watched Pantalaimon circle them above, he realised why she was doing so now. She had been through Separation, she knew the agony of it, just as Hermione did. She knew this was what he would need to pull through ... warmth and support and the love of others.

So Harry simply sighed and allowed Lyra to care for him. He couldn't wait to tell her how amazing Hermione had been. She'd be so proud of her.

But then ...

"Harry!"

Lily's voice cut the air like a thunderclap. Sirius and Lyra stepped aside in unison as Lily raced over and drew Harry into a bearhug so ferocious that she lifted him from his feet. Eyes glistening, she looked down and laughed, then hugged him some more.

"You survived! You're alright! I was terrified that you might have drowned! Oh, my sweet, sweet boy! I was so, so worried!"

She kissed his head over and over and tried to crack his shoulders with the firmness of her hug. Then there was a little, barely audible cough to the side of them.

"Um ... Mrs Potter ..." Hermione tried in a tiny voice. "I think this is yours, too."

Harry and Lily turned their heads to see Hermione tentatively offering Seren, who was bright-eyed and looking very interested in everything that was going on. Lily laughed heartily again, but instead of taking Seren merely drew Hermione into a sort of group hug that encompassed all four of them ... and Harry and Hermione found one of their arms automatically slipping around the other's shoulder, fitting perfectly, almost as if it had been designed that way.

And under the twin-armed hug of Lily, Harry and Hermione just looked at each other with shy smiles, thinking a million things, but feeling just the one ... the same one, not that either of them knew it of the other.

Finally, they broke apart and Harry was able to see where they were. It was the Great Hall of Hogwarts! How bizarre! Clearly, the Anti-Disapparition charms didn't include phoenix-fire travel. Harry wondered in amusement if Dumbledore had meant it that way. Harry looked over at the Headmaster, who had perched his phoenix on his arm and was smiling like this was an everyday occurrence.

"So, Harry, how do you like travelling by phoenix?" Dumbledore asked jovially.

"It's better than Side-Along Apparition," Harry grinned. "That's a horrid way to go."

"Yes, I quite agree. A little but like being squashed through a sausage maker, if I remember the sensation correctly."

"Something like that, Sir."

"How did everyone get here?" Hermione asked from Harry's side.

He only then noticed that the Hall was full of people, all watching them in goggle-eyed surprise. There was Neville being embraced by his parents, Madame Pomfrey was tending to Mal as Will Parry watched over him and looked around trying to take in his surroundings. Harry wondered how he had come to be there.

And then there were other students. Penelope Clearwater was there, herding pockets of children into small groups so they could be looked at by Healers, all garbed in the scarlet and purple robes of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Percy Weasley was in his pomp as Head Boy alongside her, barking out instructions in his haughty voice, reprimanding his brothers above all else.

"Fred! Stop trying to feed a Filibusters Firework to that salamander! George! That's quite enough Exploding Snap for one day! Ron ... where are you going! I told you to look after Ginny!"

"I will, Perce," Ron called back over his shoulder as he took off at a run across the Hall. "I just have to catch that bloody old rat of yours. He's trying to escape again. Scabbers! Come here!"

Harry swapped a terrified look with Hermione, and they both made to react. But then several things happened in very quick succession.

First, the Hall was filled with a blinding flash of intense light, that dazzled everyone who could see it. It left behind a silvery, champagne-coloured doorway of fine light-strands that Harry knew led to another world, perhaps Hermione's old home. The vision seemed to mesmerise everyone in the room.

Next, there was a sound that chilled Harry to his bone-marrow ... a high-pitched cackle ... Ha! Haaa! Haaa! ... then the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange yelled out a spell.

"Stupefy!"

Harry turned in horror to see the spell hit his mother square in the face. Harry cried out in anger as she crumpled to the ground, dropping baby Seren, who she had been carrying in her arms. Harry was too frozen in shock to move to catch her ...

But someone else had beaten him to it anyway.

For Scabbers the Rat suddenly jumped from the floor ... transformed into Peter Pettigrew in mid-air ... then scampered through the light-door with the baby in his clutches. Bellatrix cackled out again.

"Ha! Haa! Got you this time!" she sang. "So long Potters!"

"You aren't going anywhere, bitch!" Lyra growled, then she aimed her gun at Bella and blew out her knee-cap with a shot from close range, punching her hard in the face as she sunk to the ground in screeching agony. Sirius dived for Pettigrew but missed, and the portal closed behind him with a little puff of light.

"Seren!" Harry, James and Hermione all screamed out together. Bella managed another cackle between her shrieking cries, so Lyra kicked out hard at her wand arm and cracked the wrist in two.

Alice Longbottom had raced to Lily and revived her with a swift spell. Lily was frantic as she came to and realised Seren was gone.

"My baby! My baby!" Lily sobbed. "Where have they taken my baby?"

"You'll never find her!" Bellatrix taunted in an agonised voice, blood flowing from a wound to her eye. "She's gone forever!"

Lily howled out again and clung to Alice, while Sirius and Will fought to contain a struggling James, who looked ready to rip Bellatrix's head off with his bare hands.

"No, James! We need her alive!" Sirius was urging through the fight. "She's the only one who knows where they've taken Seren!"

At that moment Severus Snape came over. He looked unaccountably furious as he spoke to Dumbledore, whose usually kindly eyes were electric in his fury. Harry shuddered to see this side of the man.

"Headmaster," Snape urged in a low voice. "I have Veritaserum in my stores, my own adaptation. We could uncover the truth in minutes."

"We don't have minutes, Severus," Dumbledore seemed to growl in his anger. "I want answers in seconds. But you can assist me, by holding her down."

"Forced Legilimency?" Snape queried, cocking his head. "That's a violation of international law, Headmaster. Let me ..."

"Thank you for the offer, but no," Dumbledore replied. "I would very much like to commit this crime myself against this witch. An eye for an eye, wouldn't you say?"

"Quite," Snape nodded solemnly. He drew his wand and aimed it at Bellatrix, then fired tight ropes that bound her fast. She wasn't going anywhere.

Dumbledore moved forwards with menacing purpose. "Now, Bella, you are going to tell me everything I need to know, whether you want to ... or not. I should warn you, this is going to hurt. A lot."

"I spit at you, Dumbledore," Bellatrix hissed. "I will dance on your grave, I swear it."

"For that, you would need to kill me," Dumbledore replied conversationally. "And I have no intention of dying anytime soon. It sounds quite a dull thing to do. Now ... look at me, Bella."

And, as if she had no say in the matter, her eyes flashed to meet Dumbledore's own. Harry could tell she was trying to look away, but her eyes were being forced open, forced to look into the blue of Dumbledore's.

Then she started to scream, scream, like a banshee. It was a sound so terrible that a tiny bit of Harry actually felt sorry for her a moment. Hermione covered her ears and turned her head into Harry's chest against the shrieking, so hard was it to hear. It went on for a full minute until Dumbledore was satisfied. He eased down on whatever spell he had been silently casting and Bella fell still, her chest heaving and her eyes wide with terror.

"What have you learned, Albus?" Sirius called over.

"The Potter girl has been taken from this world," Dumbledore replied, his eyes still glued to Bella's as though he were merely channelling this information from her mind.

"To where?" Sirius demanded, more forcefully this time.

"To a place where all the worlds meet, where every universe has its origin," Dumbledore hushed back.

"The Source!" Harry and Hermione chimed together.

"No, it is not that place," Dumbledore corrected. "But it is very close. They call this place The Junction, for it is where all new roads begin."

"And how do we get there?" James yelled. "There must be a way."

"Not for us," Dumbledore replied. "Not for those who have complete souls. I'm afraid I don't understand what that means."

"I think we do."

Harry looked up to see Will speaking, before sharing a loaded look with Lyra. She gasped as she understood.

"Yes ... yes, we do," she hushed. "It's like the World of the Dead that me and Will journeyed to as kids. If you go to a place like that, there's no way back. But you cant go anyway unless you -"

"- leave your dæmon behind," Hermione finished lowly, remembering the story.

"Then how did the Magisterium get there?" Will asked.

"They opened a portal between all the worlds, that brought the flood here, and to other places also," Dumbledore ripped from Bellatrix's mind, causing her to screech out again. "The machine that did it was destroyed in the blast, it cannot be rebuilt fast enough to use again."

"Then it's over, they've won," Sirius groaned. "They'll use Seren to crack right to the heart of the Universe, this Source of Magic, this Dæmon's Crucible, and then they will have a level of control that we will never wrestle back."

"Not unless we beat them to it," Harry muttered, his eyes whizzing as his mind raced with an infectious idea.

"Didn't you hear them?" James yelled in passion. "We can't get there, can we?"

"Can we, Harry?" Hermione asked, calmly and curiously, as if sensing he had a plan.

"I think so ... but what we need is ... is more time."

Hermione's eyes went very wide as she understood. "OH!"

"What are you two nattering about?" Sirius demanded.

"This can't all be coincidence, can't all be chance," Harry muttered circling Hermione as he thought. "Me and you being kept apart, leading me to sitting your lessons, then Separating from Marici, suffering like mad ... only now for it all to come together."

"How, Harry?" Lily begged in a sob. "Explain this to us, please!"

"We've got a Time-Turner!" Hermione called out on his behalf, brandishing the little hour-glass from the chain around her neck.

"And I've lost my dæmon -"

"- and I was Separated from mine anyway -"

"- so we wont be affected by going to The Source -"

"- so we can go. And we can save Seren -"

"- and everyone else, obviously!"

Hermione grinned widely at him. "We just need to get back to London as fast as we can."

"I shall bear this burden, if you will permit me," Dumbledore volunteered. Harry nodded his thanks.

"There is only one problem," Sirius cut in. "Well, apart from the hundreds that none of us want to consider. The slice between the worlds was made in the sky. How the hell are you going to get up there? Your broom will never be strong enough against the torrent."

"My hippogriffs!" Hagrid suddenly announced from the back of the hall. "They're powerful beasts! They could stand it."

Harry looked at Hermione, and remembered the Hippogriff mythology that he still hadn't told her about ... it made a whole ton of new sense to him now ... it seemed almost too perfect to ignore.

"Yes ... yes, I think that would work," Harry nodded. "But Hagrid, we should only use one. Buckbeak seemed to like us, do you think -"

"You just wait here, Harry!" Hagrid boomed. "I'll be righ' back!"

Lily suddenly crossed to Harry and Hermione. "So that's you getting there, but now we have to find a way to get you home. I know I can't stop you doing this, but I wont agree until you tell me how you plan to get back."

"I think he'll be able to use this."

Harry looked beyond his mother to see Will standing there, a long leather pouch held in his outstretched hand. His eyes widened as he looked at it.

"The Subtle Knife!" Harry hushed. "I can't -"

"You can."

"I don't even know how."

"You will," Will smiled. "I have a feeling Dust is on your side. Open your heart to it, as I did, and I'm sure they will show you the way."

"And if they don't, this will," Lyra whispered, appearing at Will's shoulder. She threaded a plush, purple velvet bag over Hermione's dainty shoulders. She gasped as she saw what it was.

"Your alethiometer!" she whispered reverently. "You can't give this to me, Lyra ... Mistress ... Mum!"

Lyra smiled warmly at her Apprentice. "It is mine to give to whom I choose. And I choose you, Hermione Granger. If I ever have a daughter of my own, I hope she is everything like you. The alethiometer will be hers, but till then, I leave it in your care. I know you will look after it well."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she flung her arms around Lyra's middle, hugging her tight. Dumbledore gave it thirty seconds, then coughed politely to their right.

"Time, I believe, is of the essence," he smiled warmly.

"You have everything you need," Lily beamed encouragingly. "You have your wands -"

"And my Knife," Will grinned.

"And my symbol reader," Lyra nodded.

"You're forgetting the most important thing," Harry said. He looked at Hermione. She glowed back at him.

"Oh, of course ... we have each other."

"Then let us restore harmony to the universe!" Dumbledore cried. "Fawkes ... if you will do the honours, my old friend!"

And the phoenix whipped them away in another swirl of flame.