Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Co. J.K. Rowling does.

Summary: After one very eventful night ten years ago, Voldemort was destroyed and Harry disappeared. Where did he go? What happened that night? Only one man knows the answer: a teacher named James. And as the tenth anniversary of Voldemort's downfall draws near, Ron and Hermione are thinking more and more about their friend.

Note: I will be away for a week camping without a computer. Check back on Sunday the eighth of April, or on Monday the ninth. Enjoy reading!

Chapter 5: Searching and Dreaming

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Hermione couldn't fall asleep. It must have been 1:00 in the morning, and she was still awake. She looked over at Ron. He was sound asleep as a baby.

Hermione tried to fall asleep. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing. It was working for a moment, and she could tell that she was just about to fall asleep, but a wrinkle on the sheet under her was starting to get too uncomfortable. She opened her eyes. Nothing was working.

So she let her mind wander. Let it think about as much as it wanted too. Then, maybe, she could fall asleep.

She thought about Ron, and how much she loved him, and about Ginny and Daniel, and whether they would be happy together. She thought about Ginny, and, (That's a terrible thing to think, she told herself) if she was just marrying Daniel because she subconsciously wanted to keep the memory of her old fiancé alive. Hermione frowned. She remembered how shocked she was when she heard that Ginny and Draco were going to get married, (it still felt strange to Hermione to call him Draco) and how mad Ron was, but she especially remembered that Harry was not surprised.

Indeed, it seemed as if the year he pulled farther and farther away from Hermione and Ron, he became friends with Draco. Neither she nor Ron could figure out how these two enemies had become friends, but somehow they had, and Ginny had, too. But in an instant Draco was taken as one of the hostages.

Ginny fell apart, and Harry blocked himself off from everyone else. He turned quiet, secretive, and determined. He worked hard and became Head Auror of his department. Ron and Hermione's boss. And he became more and more secretive, and more and more independent. And he started manipulating information.

Hermione could feel her eyes watering. This was not going to help her sleep. C'mon, she told herself, Think happy thoughts. Don't dwell on memories. She thought of when she would find Harry (And I will, she thought fiercely) and how happy he would be to see her, and how she would bring Harry home to Ron, and Molly, and Ginny, and everybody, and how wonderful everything would be.

She thought of something and sat up.

"Ron," she said, shaking her husband, "Ron, wake up!"

'Mmuph," answered Ron.

"Ron--"

"What, I'm up, I'm up, what?"

"Have you checked in Canada?" asked Hermione urgently.

"What?"

"Checked, you know, for Harry?"

"'Scuse me?"

"With the thing! You know what I mean!"

"Oh, yeah. No."

The "thing" was a Magic Detector, a tool used for finding people with magic, and it gave levels on how much magic (or ability) a person had inside them. It was the same device used by Hogwarts and other schools for finding potential wizards and witches.

"You haven't?" asked Hermione.

Ron shook his head.

"Then do it! Now!"

"Why now? I'm really tired. How 'bout in the morning?"

"No, dear, now. And I mean now."

Ron mumbled and got out of bed. He searched through his luggage and found a small cube and brought it over to Hermione. She insisted on carrying with her everywhere.

Hermione unwrapped the cube to make a flat square, on which there were a bunch of orange dots with numbers underneath them. It had a range of about 100 km to detect people with. The numbers consisted of a letter (A was the weakest magic ability, E was the highest) and a percent of how much was being used. The percent usually stayed at about 30 if the wizard or witch was just acting normally, but would jump to 60 for a common spell, and about 85 for a very complicated spell. Both Ron and Hermione were C magic levels, which was normal. Dumbledore was a D magic level. So was Voldemort. The Hogwarts founders had been E magic levels. And the most recent E leveled person was Harry. Harry Potter. Which was why he was so special, and why this Magic Detector was so useful to Ron and Hermione.

They stared at the bored.

"I don't see any E's," said Ron.

"Hey look at that!" said Hermione, pointing to the grid. "There's a person who is going up in levels. Can you do that?"

"Don't know. I don't think so." They stared at the shifting letters. "Oh, but it's going back down again. Hey! Look, it's gone. Must have been a fluke. Or muggle machinery."

Hermione looked disappointed.

"Look, honey, let's go to sleep. I'm tired. You're tired. And if Harry's in this region, he'll still be here in the morning. Go to sleep."

"Okay," agreed Hermione reluctantly, "But we have to look in the morning. Promise?"

"Promise. Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Yes, yes."

Ron fell back to sleep immediately. Hermione stayed awake a bit longer, and then, finally, drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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Harry tossed a turned in his sleep.

----(dream)----

He was there, again, on the top of the plateau, battling Voldemort. Death Eaters surrounded them. They had rushed up as soon as Harry had snapped, to make sure nothing happened to their Lord (a few ran away, but most of them stayed).

Harry had tears in his eyes, and his throat felt choked up, but he would not let anyone see him cry. He felt blood pouring down his back, but he was numb to the pain. All he could think about was killing the creature in front of him, who had torn apart so many lives. Harry focused his power on him.

And Voldemort did look frightened. Harry had broken out of his bonds and stupefied several Death Eaters with no wand. But now that he retrieved it, he could be more powerful.

Harry could see the aurors coming up the hill. No doubt Ron and Hermione told them where he was. Harry must work fast.

"You have destroyed so many people's lives..." growled Harry.

Voldemort made a feeble attempt to gain back control.

"Come Harry," he said, "You are so powerful, if me and you were ruling together, just think, the world could be ours."

"Nice try, but no." Harry advanced further, dodging a killing curse and blocking a stupefying curse. The Death Eaters stood still, either shocked, or too frightened to get into the fight.

Harry said a few spells to render Voldemort wandless, but Voldemort kept dodging.

"Come with me Harry," he said, "We will be a team."

"No," answered Harry, and finally captured Voldemort's wand. "Give up," said Harry. "You're dead."

"No, no" protested Voldemort, "Join me, Harry, it's your destiny."

"You're nuts," mumbled Harry. "Absolutely nuts."

"I'd like to see you try to kill me. But know that I will return-- my spirit will remain through my loyal followers. And know that I, Lord Voldemort, have made a taint on the whole world. Nobody will forget me." He laughed a crazy laugh. "Your parents were fools, boy. Any idiot can see that. Nobody--"

But Voldemort never got a chance to finish his speech. Harry shouted the killing curse. He had to cast the spell several times before he was sure Voldemort was dead. Indeed, that man had so little human left in him, that it was hard for Harry to tell when he was dead.

And then, all was quiet.

Harry turned around. He saw Ron and Hermione running up the hill to meet him. They were laughing and smiling. They were all in a green valley with the sun shinning. The Death Eaters had disappeared.

Suddenly, a shadow fell on the valley. It looked as if Ron and Hermione had stuck a wall. They stood stalk-still for a moment, and then fell down dead.

A cruel laughter echoed off the mountains. Everything turned dark. There was no longer a green valley, but the same plateau they had been on before. Harry slowly turned around.

Voldemort stood directly behind him laughing. He snatched Harry's wand.

"Your friends have joined me," he said. Behind Voldemort stood Ron and Hermione in Death Eater robes, their smiles full of malice. "Now you must too."

"No," Harry whispered. Then louder, "No!"

Ron and Hermione snickered. Voldemort threw back his head and laughed.

Harry was seized by a fit of madness, with one word in his mind: kill.

"Avada Kedevra!" he shouted, pointing his finger at Ron, killing him.

"Avada Kedevra!" he shouted again, and Hermione was dead.

"AVADA--"

"JAMES!" yelled Peter.

James woke with a start to the bright light of Peter's living room. He was sweating all over. His shirt and boxers were soaked.

"Wha- What happened?" James choked out. He felt the power inside him. It was very strong, squeezing him, choking him.

"You had a nightmare," explained Peter. "I heard you and rushed over here. The others are still asleep."

"What did I do?" asked James, nervously, breathlessly. He could feel the power in him recede a little, as if guilty that it had been caught acting up.

"You yelled a whole lot, then pointed at me and yelled 'Abraa Kadabra', or something, or at least you were going to, but you just said 'Abraa' before I stopped you."

"Oh god," said James, "My own best friend."

He saw the pill jar making an obnoxiously large bulge in Harry's pants by his sleeping bag, and lunged for it. He couldn't contain his shock and disbelief of almost accidentally killing his own best friend. He laughed hysterically while he struggled to get the jar open.

"You know," James giggled insanely, "It will sneak up on you. When you're not looking. Just like that." He finally got the bottle open. He kept laughing. "It's always against you. Like an enemy that you can't trust, but who is part of you." James gulped down several pills with out water. "I ask you, how can I win against it? It will ruin your life. Just like it ruined mine." He gulped down several more pills. His hysterical laughter slowly receded into sobs. "Oh god," he sobbed softly, helplessly. "What can I do?" James shook his head. "What can I do?"

"Shh," said Peter, "You're just tired. Go back to sleep. We'll sort this out in the morning."

James nodded and slowly climbed back into his sleeping bag. Through the dark blue glass pill jar, he could see it pill by pill refilling. It refilled slowly, about a pill every 2 seconds, and it still had about halfway to go.

"There," said Peter. "Now go to sleep. I'm tired too."

In truth, Peter had no clue what to do. He could tell something was...off-balance with James, but he couldn't figure out what. He knew, though, that James did not want the others to know. Peter sighed. Best thing to do was probably just forget about it. He had known James for a bit less than ten years now, and they were like brothers. Peter knew that he should not bring the incident up unless James brought the topic up himself. Yes, that would be the best course of action.

"Goodnight," said Peter to the sleeping James, and turned off the light.

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