Harry found Dumbledore standing before the gargoyle that led to his quarters. From the way his hands were folded before himself, and the way he looked expectedly at Harry, she knew he had been waiting for her. She hesitated at the corner she had turned around, and then, with her shoulders squared, marched purposefully to him. "This is for you, sir," she said as she held out the parchment of paper. Dumbledore accepted it without looking at it. He studied Harry over his glasses solemnly for a long moment. Harry found herself fidgeting guiltily.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Harry pointed at the parchment. "I, ah, believe that explains everything."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Why are you here?"

Harry looked into his eyes and wondered what he was trying to imply. "Ultimately, I'm suppose to save the Universe by taking Voldemort down with me. But as to why I'm here, that's from trying to find a way to save the Universe without my being killed in the process. I think it's getting to the point though, where living isn't worth all the trouble I'm going through."

Dumbledore nodded his head, a light flashing through his eyes. Harry was unsure if it was the response he was looking for. Why he had been waiting for her and why he even asked the question, she could not so much as guess at. He read the letter through once, and then, his eyes narrowed dangerously, read through again. After finishing, he slowly rolled the parchment up and handed it back. "I see." He petted his beard as he studied Harry again. "Tell me, how does it feel to be a girl?"

"My breasts hurt," Harry said immediately. "And men are lecherous bastards." Her face turned red when she realized what she had just said to the male Headmaster.

Dumbledore looked surprised at what she said, the tension in the air Harry had not noticed before shattered, and then he chuckled. "Ah. No doubt we men have never thought to give women such credit."

Harry said nothing and hoped the color would fade from her face. Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Do you mind if I transfigure that into something a little more comfortable and, if I may be so forthright, more fashionable?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore's robes. They were flamingo-pink with gold trimming. "Whose idea of fashionable?" she asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "I believe that the Hogwarts uniform has always been fashionable."

"Oh. I could go with that." Harry held still while Dumbledore transfigured her linen corset and pantalets into soft black witch's robes. She took a deep breath, her chest unconstrained by the biting pinch of the corset. "I like this! Thank you, Professor!" He smiled at her exuberance, and then his cheerfulness disappeared in the graveness of earlier.

"Now, about your companions?"

"One of them's fighting with Neville."

Dumbledore petted his beard again. "And who would this be?"

"Uncle Severus. Neville's frustrations got the better of him, and I don't think Uncle Severus was in a good mood after being made alive again and then not being alive, but a teenaged ghost. So, ah, I guess I just confused you again."

"Perhaps."

"Well, he knows where we have to go back into the dungeons again to where the others are. Harry2's mother, Marcia Runes, is supposed to be distracting your Harry and Sev--er, Snape. Last I heard from her, she was talking to them about insanity or something."

============================

"This little girl must be insane!"

A stillness suddenly descended upon the entire hallway. Around the corner, Harry2 started to beat his head against the floor.

Marcia studied Snape with a withering look. "I beg your pardon?" Her words hung suspended in the air, cool as frost. "I am not a little girl." She straightened to her full height, and still was incapable of standing higher than Snape's belt.

He pressed one sallow hand against his chin. "Oh? You look like a little girl, you act like a little girl. If it quacks like a duck, waddles like a duck, and looks like a duck, then it must be a duck. And I most certainly do not remember you as a student here." He pointed his wand at her. "Explain yourself!"

Harry Potter laid a hand over Snape's wrist. "She's no danger. I don't sense anything."

"Mr. Potter," Snape said coldly, "your sense took leave of absence when you came here as a First Year student and, most unfortunately, never returned."

Potter glared at him. Marcia pulled her sword out of her jumper and pointed it at Snape, pricking his nose with it. Snape glared sideways at Potter as they froze. "Not dangerous, is she?" he asked out of the side of her mouth. Potter frowned and slowly shook his head.

"She doesn't feel dangerous."

"I won't be dangerous to you, sweety." Marcia leaned over and patted Potter's knee. " 'm from a different dimension, where you're my son. You," Marcia glared at Snape and prodded him in the nose, "are a different matter altogether. Shoulda dropped you on your head when I had the chance."

Potter studied Marcia closely. "You aren't dangerous," he said, shaking his head and looking confused as to why he felt this way.

"Very astute, Potter," Snape growled as he squinted down the length of Marcia's sword. "But blind as always."

"Be quiet or that nose you're so infamous for's going to meet with an unfortunate accident."

Potter smiled suddenly. "You wouldn't do that."

"MASTER!" A voice, higher-pitched than Marcia's and somewhat more annoying, rang through the hallway. Marcia jumped in surprise and nearly skewered Snape. Taking advantage of her surprise, Snape stepped out of the reach of her sword and placed himself behind Potter, trying to retain as much dignity as he could given the circumstances of running away from a little girl who stood no higher than his waist. A little elf, a wig of blonde corkscrew curls perched precariously on her head, stormed past them. "MASTER!" She rounded the corner. "Oh master! Pinky was so scared! Pinky thought you was gone forever, like Mistress!" Hopefulness was clear in the voice now that it sobbed in relief.

Potter rushed past Marcia, who recovered from her surprise and sprinted after him, two large leaps barely matching one of his wide strides. "Wait! 'm not supposed to let you over there!" She grabbed the trailing ends of his robes just as he whipped around the corner and stopped in surprise. Draco and Harry2 stared back from where they sat on the floor. Draco grabbed his wand, and Harry2 cupped his hands together between his knees. Pinky stood on Riddle's thighs and berated him for leaving her as he did. Riddle leaned against Francis' shoulder and gasped softly for breath, his face white. Francis watched Pinky with avid interest.

"You never leave Pinky alone! Pinky doesn't like being alone! Why? Mister James had to help Pinky." She stopped and stared at Riddle with concern. She reached out and touched his skin with a single finger, and gasped. "Oooh! Master is hurt!" She leapt off his lap and looked at the others. "We's must help Master!"

Without missing a beat, Harry2 pointed at Potter. "You'll have to speak to him. We think he's criminally insane and probably as dangerous as Snape on crack."

Draco's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "When have you ever seen Snape on crack?"

Harry2 looked pointedly at Marcia, who shuffled her feet guiltily. "Thought we'd all agreed that we wouldn't ever be discussing how the professor ever came to sexually harass your grandmother's lampshade," she said with a hint of red in her cheeks.

Potter looked as if he were torn between amusement and anger. "Is that possible?" he asked as he looked briefly over his shoulder. Snape was nowhere in sight. "And how is it possible that all of you," he waved his wand at Francis, Draco, and Harry2, "can be here with," his wand pointed directly at Riddle, "this creature." The note of danger in Potter's voice made Pinky look up.

"NO!" She leapt to her feet and spread her arms wide, as if to guard Riddle from danger. "You will not hurt Pinky's Master!" She stood rigidly before Potter, glaring in such a manner to dare do anything short of blinking offensively. Potter took a step back in surprise, and studied the bold little house elf.

Draco started to clap. Harry2 elbowed him sharply. "Well, have you ever seen a little house elf take on a full grown man like him? I sure wouldn't want to, and I'm not even a house elf!"

"Thank God for small miracles," Marcia said firmly. Draco glared at her, and she whipped her sword out and pointed it at him.

"Mom!"

"Know what I'm doing. You," she prodded Draco with the point of her sword, "better be nice to me on account of my son being the person you want to marry. Won't be able to do that if you make me mad. Can't marry a corpse that's buried in the deepest, darkest hole I can find in the Realm of Chaos."

Draco tilted his head to the side. "Would I get to meet the Lord of Chaos?" He watched in avid fascination as all color drained from Marcia's face.

"Um." Her eyes flickered around the hallway. "Um. I don't think that would be feasible. Right sweetie?"

Harry2 shrugged. "I don't know. Personally, I think that if we managed to get Voldemort to insult the Lord of Chaos, then maybe the Lord of Chaos would actually do something right and kill him for us. Then I wouldn't have to do it."

"Your grandfather isn't known for doing anything nice."

Harry2 sighed. "I guess not."

Francis fiddled with his goggles for a moment. He looked at Potter, but the man was studying Harry2 and Marcia with a twisted, sour expression. He looked at Tom Riddle, who still leaned against his shoulder. Pinky stood between him and Potter, her little hands curled into tight fists at her sides. "We mean no harm," Francis said before anyone could say anything more. Potter slowly turned to face him. A chill swept through Francis at the hardened expression. "I just sent my great-grandson, well, granddaughter I suppose, if one were to become very, very technical, to speak to Dumbledore." He carefully pushed Riddle away from him and stood up. "It's not all as bad as you think," he said. "I know this looks really bad, our going through here once before, and the general state of life with Voldemort on the rampant anyway."

Potter's expression remained cold and hard. With a sigh, Francis bent over, grabbed the hem of his robes, and hitched them up over his waist to reveal the long scar that stretched from hip to hip. "This would have killed me fifty years ago," he said as he pointed at it. "There's an interesting story behind it, and why I'm not fifty years older than what I really should be. I imagine there's enough time to relate it." He pointed at a spot on the floor as he sat back down again. "Make yourself comfortable." He looked pointedly at Draco and Harry2. "Nothing is going to happen, now is there?"

Harry2 shrugged. "I never try to fight on Sundays and Wednesdays. And today is Wednesday. At least I think it is." He scratched his head. "It's gotta be Wednesday somewhere."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Why what?"

"Why those days? Why not Mondays and Tuesdays?"

"Because Sundays are church days, and Wednesdays because that's when Grandmother always brings me some of her special custard, and death and Chaos sort of curdles the taste."

"Mama makes a good custard," Marcia said appreciatively. " 'Cept she hasn't made any since you left. Sulks all the time and wants to know when I'm going to bring you back."

Harry2 brightened. "When we're all done, we can all go to Winter's Ambit and have some of Grandmother's special custard," he said. "All of us!"

"I dunno." Marcia glared at Draco. "She'd take your wanna-be husband less kindly than I would. Much as I dislike him, don't think anyone deserves to be turned into a block of ice, and then pushed into the Unfrozen Flob."

"That's because she wants me to get closer to Rosemary. Grandmother wants me to produce lots of little babies for her to cuddle, spoil, and love, now that I'm too big to do that. Well, actually she still does that, but she can't pick me up and carry me around in her arms any more."

"Rosemary's a sweet little thing."

"She's got green moss for hair, Mom, and she's also taller than me."

"What do you expect from someone whose half wood sprite? You took her to the Yule Ball a couple years ago, and you've grown some since."

"That's so Penny'd go with Ron. And besides, Dimitri said that if I didn't take Rosemary, then he'd go the Yule Ball as my partner. I didn't want him. And Rosemary's still taller than me."

Marcia grinned as she folded her legs beneath herself and plopped down beside Harry2. She kept her sword pointed at Draco. "Makes me miss everyone. Only Dimitri shows up now and then, but only so he and Nandin can spar. I'd like to know how Eddy's been doing."

"Dimitri?" Potter leaned forward, his eyes wide with interest.

"Do you know him?" Marcia asked. "He's a dhampire. My sister, Patches, took him on as an apprentice, and now he hunts down ghosts and demons." She frowned and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "And he's as bad as Patches too, what with his chasing demons into my bathroom when I'm trying to take a bath."

"Now, Mom, that only happened twice. He was very apologetic both times."

"Twice too many times! I think he did it on purpose!"

Harry2 scratched behind one ear and rolled his shoulders. "You're just mad because he's too young for you to ravage."

Marcia turned her nose up at that. "Nonsense. He's not my type, being all teeth and pale skin and whatnot."

Potter continued to study Marcia. He pressed his back against the opposite wall and slid down its length until he was seated, his legs crossed before him and his wand resting against his knee. It conspicuously pointed at Draco. Draco shuffled a little to the left, and the wand point followed after. He shuffled closer to the right, where Harry2 was sitting, and Marcia's sword point prickled him.

Draco sighed. "Caught between a rock and a hard place."

The sword point pricked him harder. "That was a sexual inoodoo, wasn't it?"

Harry2 sighed. "Innuendo, Mom. Innuendo."

" 'zactly what I said!"

=======================

Harry and Dumbledore stopped in the hallway. Raging words could be heard hurtling at one another, clashing in a broad spectrum of sound and fury.

"--wouldn't know what a good potion was unless it knocked you over the head and then proceeded you molest you in the most obscene manner--"

"--would you know about half-way decent students when all you associate with are those Slytherins who spend more time plotting and trying to kill their Herbology teacher than study, like the malicious little inhuman bastards so much like their Head that they are--"

"Ah, Harry." Dumbledore put his arm around Harry's shoulder and steered her into a different direction. "I believe it would not be wise to interrupt this delicate conversation."

"Delicate? That 'conversation' is about as delicate as using a flame thrower put out a fire!"

Dumbledore said nothing more as he led Harry back to the dungeons. They silently walked through the Great Hall, still empty, and went through the door at the very end of it. "Where, exactly, in the dungeons are your friends?" he asked as he held the door open for Harry.

"I don't know exactly. Draco said he recognized it from his school days. It's supposed to lead to some storage rooms where the students partook in 'procreational' activities. But that was in his Hogwarts. I don't think Hogwarts is ever different, but I don't know if the rooms in this reality are used for storage."

"I know of just the place," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, many a time I, in my youth, would visit there to burn a little energy." He coughed discreetly into his hand.

"With Slytherins?"

"You must understand, Harry. I was young too, once. A long time ago." Dumbledore sighed wistfully. "She was a cute little blonde with big brown eyes." He lost himself in past reminisce. Harry was glad; she felt slightly queasy at the idea of Dumbledore being young and viral with a cute little blonde with big brown eyes. In her mind, he would always be an old man with long white hair and beard.

They continued the rest of the way through the dungeons in silence. They heard Francis' voice echoing down the hall a few minutes before they saw them. ". . . and after that, Harry always refused to search the men's bathroom!" There was a scattering of snickers, and a different voice spoke.

"I wouldn't either if I were assaulted by Snape!"

"Tell another! These are funny!"

"Mooooommm!"

"Oh, be quiet. You won't be able to get it up for at least another twenty years, so you're still safe."

"Mooooommm!"

"Oh. I'm embarrassing you now, aren't I? . . . Guess that's a yes."

Harry rounded the corner and saw Harry2 slumping low, his red face pressed against his knees.

"If it's any consolation," Marcia said with a desperate note in her voice as she rubbed Harry2's back, "you're not Nandin. He had to wait two hundred years."

Harry2 managed to look up from his knees long enough to glare at Marcia. She shrank away from him, her face crumpling in misery. "What did I do now?" she asked mournfully. "I didn't mean to!" She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Harry2 straightened up. He sighed and rolled his eyes, fidgeted guiltily as Marcia wailed her misery, and then sighed.

"It's okay," he said as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. "I'm not mad at you."

Marcia immediately stopped wailing. "Good. Now I feel better." She turned and grinned at Harry and Dumbledore. Harry2 rolled his eyes. "Back already?" she asked as she cheerfully tilted her head to the side.

"Ah, Harry!" Francis flashed her a smile, which looked strained and forced. "We were just discussing you."

Harry could guess what they were saying. She looked around herself at the others. This reality's Harry Potter sat against the wall just opposite of Francis. Both of his legs bent close, allowing easy access to a quick jump if needed. His muscles were tense beneath the thick robes he wore, and he watched Harry like a snake watched a wounded bird. Harry quickly looked away from him. Draco had both legs stretched out before himself and his back pressed against the wall. Marcia sat beside him, her sword point conspicuously pointed at his side. He did not look too uncomfortable, all things considering. Harry2 sat on the other side of Marcia, and looked as if he did not want to be where he was (or be where his mother was, which amounted to the same thing). Francis looked drained, tired and slightly depressed where he sat. Pinky was cradled in Riddle's arms, her eyes drowsy and her mouth and ears drooping slightly.

Harry spared Pinky a questioning thought (how did she get here?) before she descended upon Riddle. Riddle's face was ashen and his eyes were half-closed. "How're you feeling?" she asked as she grabbed his shoulder a little harder than she intended. He had enough strength to give her a dirty look. "He needs to get to the hospital wing," she said to Dumbledore, who slowly stepped forward and hovered over Riddle, an unreadable look on his face.

Marcia yawned impatiently and scratched the tip of one ear as Dumbledore turned from Riddle and looked over the others. The sword her lap bobbed, and Draco eyed it warily before he scooted slightly away from it. Potter was tense and watched Dumbledore closely, as if measuring his reaction to the others as a judgment.

Dumbledore looked at Potter over the lens of his glasses. "Riddle," he said carefully, "will need a strong arm to lean on."

Harry2 jumped to his feet. "I've got a strong arm."

Draco looked at Marcia's sword. He jumped to his feet as well. "Me too," he said.

She glared at him. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, I think you better not do what I think you think you're going to do."

Draco blinked. "Say what?"

"Stay away from my son, you harlot!"

"Mooooommmm!"

Draco ignored Marcia as he strode over to Riddle's side. He stooped over long enough to hook a steady hand beneath Riddle's armpit and heave him to his feet. Pinky gasped and Riddle swayed. Potter slowly stood up. He moved to stand beside Dumbledore.

"Where to?" Draco asked Dumbledore with a big smile.

=============================

Riddle was taken directly to the hospital wing. He leaned heavily against Draco as Dumbledore led the way. Pinky followed closely at Riddle's heels, clutching his wand closely to her tiny chest. She stared at her Master with large, worried eyes. Harry and Harry2 followed behind with Marcia between them; both Harrys were ready to grab Riddle should he stumble. Francis trailed behind them, with Potter at his side. They made their way to the hospital wing without too much incident. Once there, Francis complained of being tired. While they waited for Madam Pomfrey to diagnose Riddle's problem, Francis curled up on an empty hospital bed and fell asleep.

Harry slouched in her seat, all to aware now of her swollen and painful breasts. Draco and Marcia began to bicker about little things, such as what were good baby names (Marcia liked the name Stanley, and Draco did not care for it). Harry2 interjected once with an inquiry of how he and Draco were going to manage to have children when they were both men, and besides, the chance of their even getting together long enough to have sex was in the negative numbers anyway.

The looks Marcia and Draco gave him was enough to make him roll his eyes and go off in search for Severus. Pinky settled herself at Riddle's side and refused to budge for the world, nor would she talk to anyone but Riddle, so no one learned how exactly she came to arrive in this reality. Dumbledore remained seated beside Harry, and said nothing as he watched Marcia and Draco arguing over the pros and cons of naming boys "Leslie." Potter disappeared somewhere; Harry supposed he had a class to teach.

Madam Pomfrey soon informed the others the full extend of Riddle's problems.

"His magic is depleted severely, as if he used a great deal of it to perform complex and powerful spells, or it was sucked from him. Because of this, his body is breaking down and is unable to repair itself. I recommend good food, and at least a week in bed to recover both his magical and physical strengths."

No one was too upset at having to learn they wouldn't be Jumping realities any time soon. With that news, Dumbledore roused Francis from his sleep, and showed them the rooms they would be staying in, with Marcia and Harry in one room and the men in an adjacent room. The rooms were almost identical to the same room Dumbledore had given them when they stayed in the reality where Francis and Sirius had been swallowed by Fawkes.

Francis stumbled through the room, collapsed face-first on the bed without changing clothes or taking his glasses off, and went back to sleep. He slept for sixteen hours straight before Severus, tired of waiting for him to awaken, grabbed him with a chilly hand and tossed him out of bed-along with the bed covers, the pillows, and the mattress.

"Huh? Wha?" Francis rubbed his eyes and squinted at Severus. "Oh. It's you." Francis slumped. "I'm so tired." He tiredly picked threads off his over robes.

"How long are you going to sleep?" Severus' words were hissed between his teeth and his back was ramrod stiff. Francis squinted at him again before feeling around for his glasses. He gave up on them when he couldn't find them and instead pulled his flight goggles low over his eyes.

"I'm going to sleep so long as it takes," Francis said as he curled up in the blankets.

"Takes for what?"

Francis said nothing as he pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders. "Takes for the pain to go away," he said finally.

=================================

Harry had no idea of how she was going to spend the time at Hogwarts. She did not have any desire to study, this was six years into the future, and everyone else had their own idea of what to do. The only two people she had gone to school with who were still in Hogwarts and were not professors were Potter (technically, they were the same person, but he was avoiding the Reality-Jumpers as if they were carriers of the Bubonic Plague; at least he knew they were relatively safe and was not plotting to kill them) and Neville (who was not talking to Harry because she was guilty by association with Severus). Harry2 and Draco had decided now was good enough time as any to sharpen up fighting skills, and Harry decided (after seeing them raze one of the unoccupied towers) it was safer for her to just learn how to outrun spells.

Finally, after learning that Francis intended to sleep his pain away (Severus told Harry he supposed Francis had enough time to enter a period of mourning for his family, especially after what he had seen at Dinsmore), and knowing that Severus was snapping and snarling at everyone once he had been separated from Neville, Harry gave up on seeking companionship with people she was comfortable with. Circumstances changed that, however. Two days after arriving in this reality, too early in the morning for any living soul to be up and about, Harry was awakened by dull pain at the very bottom of her stomach. The ache spread between her legs and around her thighs, and her breasts felt more sore than before. Harry stumbled from the bed she was shared with Marcia.

Sharing the bed with Marcia amounted to clinging to the edge and hoping in vain for a corner of the blanket. Marcia hogged the covers, hogged bed space, kicked and spoke in her sleep, and snored like a drunken bee. Harry barely spared Marcia a glance as she opened the bathroom door and entered it. She pressed a hand against her stomach and winced as her full bladder twinged. With a sigh, she moved to relieve herself, and stared in surprise at her underwear.

She was bleeding. She was bleeding there of all places.

The resulting scream of shock woke Marcia in a flash.

"Huh? Wha? Who's dying?" Marcia scrubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand and jumped over to the closed bathroom door. "Harry! Wazza matter in there?" She pounded the bedroom door.

Severus materialized behind her. "What's going on here?" He stuck his head through the bathroom door just as Harry opened it and hurried through, looking panicked and close to hyperventilating.

"I'm bleeding!"

Marcia and Severus looked blankly for a moment. "Is that all?" Severus asked finally, scorn dripping from each word.

"Is that all?" Harry tightened her hands into fists. "Is that all? Here I probably ruptured something important, I'm bleeding in a sensitive place, and that's all you got to say?"

Marcia waved Severus away. "Don't tread into a woman's matter," she said testily. "Go 'way."

Severus glared down at her. "Why should I?"

" 'Cause I'm going to explain the facts of life to Harry."

"What's more is there to add to the facts of life other than death and taxes?"

"Sex," Marcia replied.

Severus sniffed. "Fine then." He disappeared through the floor.

Harry twisted the corner of her nightgown. "What's this about sex and the facts of life?" She had a dreadful feeling about what she was about to be told, and it had something to do with her bleeding.

"I'm going to give you an impromptu sex education," Marcia replied blithely. "You are a girl. You will bear babies, which is going to be the result if you get laid. You bleed once a month if you don't get laid and get pregnant and all that."

Harry waited for Marcia to continue, but the little crow demon regarded her expectedly and said nothing else. "That's it?" Harry asked finally.

"Well, I could go on about how losing your virginity's going to hurt like hell, and maybe even the biological aspects of your menstrual cycle, but that involves a whole lot of science. Don't think you actually want to hear about how your uterine sheds its lining when your hormones don't change on account of being pregnant."

"Oh." Harry scratched her head. "Why don't I just look this information up in the library instead?"

Marcia shrugged. "Unless this Hogwarts library is any different from the one I read through when my sweetie was a baby, then you won't find much biology beyond the eighteenth-century theories, and trust me: you don't want to read what misogynistic, narrow-minded, self-righteous men wrote about a woman's period. Even if they were wizards."

"Oh." Harry considered asking Madam Pomfrey, but what if Tom Riddle was awake and overheard? She hugged herself and felt very miserable. "I guess I can wait until I get home then and ask Hermione."

Marcia patted Harry's arm. "You do that."

"But, are periods supposed to be painful?"

"It's the cramps. Your uterus happens to be shedding a layer of flesh, and it's going to hurt. Some women have a higher tolerance for pain than others, some women happen to be more sensitive. It all depends on the individual."

=======================

It was two days until Harry's cramps finally eased off with a bit of aid from Severus. In the meantime, the pain, not too intense to ask for medical relief but not minor enough to ignore, set Harry on edge. She snapped unreasonably at Draco when he offered her a back rub and then burst into guilty tears seeing his stricken look. Feeling bad, she wandered into the kitchens where a bowl of strawberry ice cream made her feel better.

Being a girl was a roller coaster of emotions. Francis stirred from his sleep twice, just long enough to exchange brief words with a few people and get a bite to eat. When he learned that Harry was having her period, he grinned weakly at her. "Pandora would suggest rose hip oil," he said. Then, realizing what he said, he looked ready to cry, and slunk off to sleep in his cushions on the floor. Harry cried at the memory of her family's slaughter and how Francis must feel to lose them in such a manner, and then proceeded to ease her sorrow with large slices of pie piled high with whipped cream. Having eased her sorrow with that, Harry then felt guilty about eating such food and gaining weight. Her body felt heavy and swollen, and she noticed a tightness in her school robes around her hips and chest. She indulged in chocolate pudding to help forget the feelings.

"You look beautiful," Draco said late evening on the second day of Harry's period. He looked at her appreciatively, but Harry still burst into tears.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better!"

Draco looked aghast. "But I mean it! You do look beautiful!"

Harry ran away from him to the kitchens, which was quickly becoming her favorite place to be, and indulged in custard. Just as she was finishing up her fifth bowl, Severus entered the kitchen. One glare from him sent the house elves hiding. He carried a steaming mug in his transparent hand, and set it in front of Harry with a loud thump.

"Drink it."

Harry eyed the drink suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Something to make me feel better."

Harry picked the mug up by its handle and peered at the greenish liquid. "Make you feel better? What about me? Is it going to improve my mood?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "At this point, I'll settle for tossing you off the Astronomy Tower."

"That's not going to improve my mood."

"It should improve your mood to know I won't if you drink this potion. Now, drink it."

Harry mentally shrugged before she took a sip. She made a face at its taste of stale beans. "Yuck. What is it?"

"Have I ever let you down before?"

Harry froze. "I don't like the sound of that."

Severus leaned forward, his dark eyes flashing menacingly. "Drink it."

Harry jumped at the snarl, and then hastily gulped the potion down. She barely managed to not gag at the very end, and then wiped her mouth vigorously when she set the mug down on the table surface. "Now what?"

"Now, you should begin to feel very sleepy."

"So it's a sleeping potion?"

"A very strong one that should ensure your rest for the next three days."

Harry jumped to her feet. "Now wait just a--" She fell forward, asleep instantly. Severus gathered her up in his cold arms.

"You really cannot feel any worse when you're sound asleep," he muttered to himself.

====================

Harry awoke two and a half days later. She felt groggy and her mouth felt dry, like something fuzzy had crawled into it and died while she was asleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. Marcia was sprawled across the bed, wrapped tightly in the bundle of covers, sheets, and mattress pad. Black hair tumbled out of one end and feet poked out the other. Harry pursed her mouth and sat upright. She waited a moment for the world to stop spinning as she groped blindly for her glasses. She found them under her pillow, put them on, and stumbled to the bathroom.

She was no longer bleeding, her breasts were no longer swollen and sore, and she felt immensely better about herself. "I feel good," she decided. She rubbed her stomach and smiled in pleasure. She walked back into the room and nudged Marcia. "How long have I been asleep?"

Marcia mumbled something indistinguishable, and continued sleeping.

"Well, if anyone wants me for anything, I will be getting breakfast from the house elves." Marcia muttered something in reply to that; it sounded a lot like, " 'twas Ron's fault." Harry ignored it in favor of dressing in clean robes that some kind house elf had laid across the chair next to the bed. She splashed some cold water on her face, slipped her feet into soft-soled slippers, and padded off in search of the kitchens.

The halls were devoid of any living (or dead, as the case may be) creature. Harry was glad; she did not feel up to talking to Severus since he tricked her into drinking the sleeping draught to begin with. Harry entered the kitchen through the poster, looked around for a house elf, and saw Tom Riddle seated at a small table. His chair leaned against the wall and he had one hand pressed over his eyes as he nursed a hot cup of tea. Pinky sat in his lap, her little cheeks puffing out as she munched on a large mouthful of strawberries and whipped cream. She swallowed and took another large bite. "Yummy yummy!" She smiled at Harry in greeting.

Harry carefully sat at the table. One little house elf, with a vicious glare at Pinky, appeared at Harry's side. "What would Missy like?" he asked politely.

"I'll have what she's having," Harry said as she pointed at Pinky. "That looks good." The house elf glared at Pinky again before silently hurrying off to fetch a bowl of strawberries smothered in heavy whipped cream. Tom Riddle dropped his hand, took a sip of his tea, and watched Harry with bloodshot eyes. "So," began Harry, "how are you feeling?"

"Miserable." Riddle shifted in his seat. He carefully picked Pinky up without disturbing her snack and set her on the table surface. Pinky stopped chewing and stared at her master with worried eyes. "Look at this." Riddle tugged a long lock of hair before his eyes, which crossed to stare at the silver amongst the black. "This gray hair," he pointed at one strand, "is from your first dream of a visit. This gray hair is from your second. This is from your transfiguration, these are from your uncle Severus' transfiguration, and the rest of it is from all those damn Jumps." He dropped his hand and stared coldly at Harry. "I've aged at least twenty years in the past week I've been in the presence of your company."

Harry was not sure how to respond to this, except perhaps appeal to his vanity. "If it makes you feel any better, you're still very handsome, especially when you consider what Voldemort looks like." She shuddered. "Having gray hair is much better than being hairless, and wrinkles beat out lidless eyes, no nose, and pasty-white skin."

Tom Riddle settled back against his chair. A bowl of strawberries and whipped cream appeared before Harry and a spoon clattered at the side of the bowl. Harry picked up the spoon and dug into her fruit. "I take it most of the house elves don't like how Pinky is being treated."

Pinky looked up at the mention of her name. She straightened her thin shoulders defiantly. "Pinky's a good house elf," she said firmly.

"She is indeed," Riddle said in agreement. He lovingly rearranged the wig of corkscrew blond curls and fondly patted Pinky's shoulders.

"How come she has clothes?" Harry looked at the dress Pinky wore. It was powder blue with star-like sequins along the hem and frilly white lace.

"It's her uniform," Riddle said with a pointed look. "Pandora made the uniform and Pinky asked for a wig so she would be pretty enough to wear the uniform. Frankly, I think Pinky doesn't need it to look pretty as she is already very cute." Pinky turned adoring eyes on her Master.

"Silly!" She giggled and shooed Riddle's words away. "Pinky's not cute." She self-consciously touched one of the curls.

"Nonsense. You, my dear, are gorgeous." Riddle bowed slightly and smiled as he spoke. He noticed Harry's look of astonishment. "There is only one woman in my life and has been since my granddaughters left, and that is Pinky. Aside from Pandora, I have never known a woman to be as faithful and to show such fidelity to me as Pinky." He took a sip of his tea, and spoke softly, power accenting his next words. "And I always return that which has been given to me." Pinky finished the last of her strawberries, and he stood up. "Come, my lady," he said, holding his arm out to Pinky. She climbed over it and settled herself in the crook of his elbow. She clung to his robes and proudly held her head high as they left room, the Hogwarts house elves frowning with clear disapproval.

As Harry finished her strawberries, she had to wonder just how Death Eaters everywhere would react to how the man who could have become Voldemort treated a house elf with such affection.

=====================

It took two more days for everyone to clear up matters and for Tom Riddle to finish his recovery before they were ready to Jump. Francis had to be stirred twice before he finally managed to drag himself out of bed. While waiting for him to dress, Harry voiced her concern about Francis.

"Is this healthy?" she asked everyone, sans Riddle, Pinky, and Francis. "Are people supposed to sleep like this? I was never this tired when Cedric died."

"You weren't as close to Cedric either," Severus pointed out. "Remember, Francis saw the deaths of his family. He's known all along they died and that they were killed violently, but I don't believe it actually had any affect on him until he actually saw what truly happened. It never truly hit home until he realized that they were dead, and this was how they died. Cedric died a merciful death, and your ancestors did not have that luxury."

"Depression," Marcia spoke from where she sat on the floor, holding Pandora's Box, "is handled differently by different people in mourning. Some throw themselves into so much activity that they don't have time to think of the pain. Others, like Francis, sleep, because you have be awake to deal with the pain. Don't worry; eventually most people sleep enough to numb themselves to the pain and then can function awake."

"Exactly," Draco said in agreement. "Francis has been too busy to cope with what happened. He's finally got the breathing room he needs and the time to go through the healing process. I haven't been with you, Francis, and Severus from the beginning, but even the time I've been with you has been enough for me to know this Reality-Jumping doesn't leave much room to breath, let alone mourn."

"Okay." Harry looked at Harry2. He had not said anything and did not look as if he were going to volunteer information any time soon. "I just feel worried about him."

"Perfectly natural to do," Marcia said cheerfully.

Draco smiled gently at Harry. "We'd be worried if you weren't worried," he said as he brushed some errant hair from her eyes.

Riddle entered the small room then, carrying Pinky in a special sling. "Hopefully this will be the last time we Jump," he said darkly with a cold glare at Pandora's Box and the Mirror of Rebounds, which sat next to Marcia. Francis trailed in behind him.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "Whose's going to start it?"

"I will," Harry said. She tensed as Marcia set Pandora's Box down, tilted the Mirror of Rebounds on its side, and stood up. Harry steeled herself against being sucked into the Mirror of Rebounds, and reached out to touch the cool surface of the Mirror of Rebounds' glass. Pandora's Box rattled, the Mirror of Rebounds whipped around, and power exploded in the room. Tom Riddle squeezed his eyes shut and hugged Pinky close as, one by one, the people beside him were pulled into the spinning Mirror of Rebounds.

Marcia scratched her chin. "Do I have to follow?"

Riddle gritted his teeth. "I wish I didn't have to," he said before he was pulled into it. Marcia watched as Pandora's Box was sucked into the Mirror of Rebounds, and then the mirror itself fold inward.

"What about me? How come I have to make the effort to follow?" She Jumped between the realities and watched as the others crashed down through the space, bouncing off the walls as Riddle's magic sputtered sporadically. She looked around at the walls of the realities and squinted at the cracks. The same magic that was pulling the others through the realities was leaking through the cracks. Marcia followed the lines of the cracks down to a hole in the reality wall. It looked like a tunnel that shot through all realities to the very center of the Universe.

Follow, a whispery voice floated above Marcia's head. Follow where this may lead.

"Why?" Marcia looked off into the distance where she could see her son. "What's the point?"

There was a painful silence. Look, I'm having a hard day. I know this is supposed to sound mystical and all so you'd go to the very end of the tunnel, so couldn't you just do it anyway?

"Why should I? What's at the very end?"

There was a pitiful little sigh, and Cousin Quigley appeared in front of Marcia. "This is where I've been trying to get you ever since Harry started his Wandering. Please, just follow the tunnel and you'll find Pandora. There are several beings like you who exist in the Universe who can travel to Avalon, but you're the only one who knows anything about Harry Potter. You're the only one I can get to bring her back."

Marcia glared at him. "You said I'm not even supposed to be here!"

Cousin Quigley tiredly rubbed his eyes. "Well, I lied."

Marcia puffed her chest out and looked indignant, much like a mother who had caught her son with someone who she considered a Very Bad Influence. "That's a bad thing to do!"

"I know." Cousin Quigley gestured to the tunnel. "But can you follow it? Please? That's what you were supposed to do."

Marcia pressed a finger against her lip. "But what about my Harry?"

"I'll take care of him."

She frowned. "Now I'm worried."

Cousin Quigley looked at Marcia with sad eyes. "Please. I really need you to do this; I cannot, and you're the only person who can."

Marcia studied Cousin Quigley for a long moment. "It's miserable being immortal, isn't it?" Cousin Quigley nodded miserably. "And unlike you, I'm not bound to something's whims." She shrugged. " 'kay. Give my love to my sweetie when you see him, and let him know where I'm off to." With that, Marcia dashed down the length of the tunnel just as the others came out of their Jump and landed in the Hogwarts hospital wing, only a few minutes after Francis, Harry, and Severus first Jumped through Harry's accidental swat to the Mirror of Rebounds.

"We've back to our reality," Francis said as he looked around. The others slowly picked themselves up off the ground.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

Francis pointed at all the mirrors and countryside paintings that surrounded a bed with rumpled covers, and the gold wedding band on the bed stand. "That's where all the portraits were, and that's my wedding ring." He smiled at the others. "Welcome to the right reality," he said brightly. "No more jumping."

"Yay," Tom Riddle said sarcastically from where he still lay on the floor, Pinky hugging his arm comfortingly.

"And we never found Pandora," Severus said, softly enough that only Harry, who stood next to him, heard.

author's notes: I'm in college now, living in the dorms and quite some distance from my home. I have no internet connection, no working phone, and barely any hot water. Up until two days ago, I never even had all my furniture. This has been eight days since I moved in. Before that, I went to Canada, so now I can honestly say I've been to two countries (but I don't think Canada quite counts because in all my life except now I've lived from 15-50 miles from the Canadian border, so I was practically in Canada anyway. It wasn't much more different from Montana, other than it was flatter and had a lower drinking limit). Finally, my home is under fire. Literally. We were evacuated, came back three days later, and had to be re-evacuated when the fires came too close. I suspect there will at least be two more times this will have to be done until the snows fall; that's the only way the fires will stop. I'm hoping for a very early snow season--late September, early October, at the very least.
The irony of this is how the fires are burning up all the old growth, and there was a big stink a few weeks earlier about the last independant, desperately struggling saw mills bidding to thin out a local nation forest and they were shut down by a judge because some of their logging was going to take place in some of the old growth. Well, use it or lose it, I saw. I guess we're losing it.
Anyway, the point I wanted to make was I'm sorry for taking so long. The next point I want to make is I do have Chapter Twenty-seven nearly completed. I just have to find and fix mistakes and then HTMLize the chapter. I think it should be fairly soon, within the next couple of days. It's also a long chapter like this one, both being over seven thousand words long (author's note not including). =)