Disclaimer: not mine. Don't own. Go eat hamster.

A/N: it hasn't been so long since I last updated this fic, and a disappointing number of reviews has been my only response from the masses of readers that fanfiction hosts. I wasslasham disappointed. However, I do understand that last chapter was a pretty shitty one, and I promise that this one is a whole heap better… which means I'm expecting stacks of reviews! You find out about Hermione in this chapter too… lolly! Oh, don't you love a little 'mione-torture? XD

Chapter eight

Taking the flame from the lantern (be my pilot light)

In someplace we might have forgotten about, but that certainly hasn't forgotten us…

Neville Longbottom slipped down the wall that he was leaning against until he was slumped down on the floor, panting heavily. The cool press of the worn bricks soothed his beating heart, but not enough.

Ever since Harry had disappeared from potions, Neville had been having strange, strange dreams.

When he'd mentioned them to Ron, the red-head didn't seem to even hear him. When he'd spoken to Hermione about it, she'd suggested he was traumatized about the 'incident', and said maybe he should see Madame Pomfrey for some prescribed dreamless sleep potion. Ginny had been sympathetic, but distracted.

Luna had told him, in her misty voice that his spirit was wandering the ethereal plains, and until he figured out what was drawing him there, and resolved the problem, it would continue to happen. Neville hadn't really paid attention to her advice, because he didn't even know what an ethereal plain was, and he was willing to bet ten sickles that if he tried to find out it would be in the 'mythology' section of the library.

So Neville continued to have the nightmares.

Every night the same thestral greeted him, and every night Neville ran and ran while it chased after him, its dreadful cry carrying over the endless mist until it seemed to surround him.

Each morning he would wake exhausted, and each day it was getting worse and worse.

Not to mention Snape was after him, continuously deducting points for the instructions of a potion that Neville could barely remember making. Not to mention Harry had certainly helped as well, it hadn't been him alone!

But between everything, there was a ray of hope. Neville couldn't help but notice that it almost seemed like he'd been working out: somehow, he was getting fit.

It didn't even occur to him that it was because he spent eight hours running every night.

That place we're drawn to… that exists only in the minds of those who seek it…

"Hey! You! Sebastian!" Blaise cried out to the dark haired boy, just as he turned the corner. The kid didn't pause, even though she was sure he must have heard her, and she broke out into a jog to catch up. She was a couple of metres behind him when he paused to smile at one of the students coming towards them, and she realized it wasn't the new boy at all.

She stood still, breathing hard, feeling strange.

"Were you calling me?" a soft voice spoke from just behind her, and she jumped, spinning around.

There stood Sebastian Jamison, one hand clasped firmly within the other one, his hair falling forward into his eyes. Somehow he seemed very different from the Sebastian whom had been introduced at the Start of Term Feast, just last night. His eyes, she noted, looked haunted, and for a moment she saw in him the same desperation she had felt when Hermione…

"Uh, yes, fine. McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, gave me an errand" she stated, mentally calming herself down. The somewhat surreal shock of him appearing, ghost-like, behind her had unbalanced her already tipping self-rhythm. But every small thing seemed to, now-days.

She held out the envelope that his schedule was in towards him, but he made no move to take it. After a few more seconds of waiting to see if he would accept it, she let her hand drop back to her side. Mentally though, she reeled back in confusion; why was he being so cruel? Didn't he know…? Why didn't the whole world know…?

She looked down, forcibly telling herself to get those tears out of her eyes.

She looked up through her hair when the new guy started to speak.

"I'm sorry. I've hurt my hand, it's still quite sore" he said, presumably by way of explanation. She shook her paranoia away and offered him a tight smile that truly only felt like plastic on her lips. Opposite her, Sebastian's returning quirk of the lips looked just as bitter. She didn't ask.

"Well I think that it's about your time-table. Uhm… here…" she held the timetable back up, towards the hand that didn't seem to be injured. She wondered distantly what he'd done to it, and that interest sharpened suddenly when she noticed red marks seeping through the temporary bandage.

"What the hell…?" she muttered, and forgetting herself for just a moment, made a grab for his hand. Harry moved back, but wasn't fast enough to prevent her from latching onto him. Feeling a rising panic, Harry struggled away from her, wincing in pain as her hand tightened around the still bloody cuts in his hands.

There was a shout from down the corridor and in a few seconds later they were being pulled apart. In the confusion, the bandages around Sebastian's hands had loosened and the fresh scars were exposed, much to the shock of both Blaise and the fourth year who had pulled them apart.

"Christ! How'd you get those? They look like they hurt!" the fourth year exclaimed, eyes flicking confusedly between the heavily breathing Sebastian and the astonished Blaise, who had taken a guilty step backwards at the sight of the angry wounds.

"Hey, uhm, you didn't do that, did you Zabini?" the fourth year asked nervously. Blaise's eyes widened at the accusation, but before she could deny it, Sebastian had stepped in.

"No, mate. I had an accident before, and uhm… Zabini…? just startled me is all" he said softly, already in the process of wrapping his arm back up, with the same dirty rag of shirt he'd been using before. Blaise twitched slightly at the unhygienic action, but said nothing. The fourth year, who Blaise remembered to be Callum from Slytherin, looked slightly dubious. With a final glance at the two of them he clearly dismissed the issue from his mind and glanced at his watch.

"Yeah, well, whatever. Just don't fight too much, I heard Snape's in the foulest mood. Complaining about Gypsy Potter again, I think. Whatever. Be Aware folks!" and he threw them a salute and cheerily swaggered off, throwing the suggestion that Sebastian should see Madame Pomfrey over his should just before he rounded the corner.

"You really should go and get her to heal those cuts, you know. They could get infected and that tends to hurt" Blaise said earnestly, the envelope she had originally been asked to give Sebastian lying, unnoticed on the stone floor.

Harry glanced at his hand, bemused, seemingly not noticing any pain at all.

"Oh, I don't think I'll trouble her" he murmured distractedly instead, then rising his eyes to look at her curiously. Blaise blushed under his scrutiny. He looked back at her amusedly, the distance in his eyes telling her he wasn't really seeing Blaise at all.

"So… how did you get them?" she asked suddenly, before she lost the courage. Sebastian blinked in surprise, her bluntness (something that she would usually never fall victim to!) seemed to disconcert him for a moment, and he almost answered.

He wavered at the last second though, and turned to look into the shadows of the hallway, avoiding her eyes.

"Had an accident with a mirror" speaking in half-truths was his talent.

Blaise paused to gather her thoughts; her interest in this new student was the first emotion other than despair that she'd experienced in quite a while. Something about him had piqued her senses, normally so attuned, and she was reluctant to get on his bad side.

She could do with a friend.

"Well…" she started, but trailed off as she realized she still had nothing to say.

Sebastian continued to look at her thoughtfully. The muscles on his face contracted slightly as he frowned to himself, clearly making up his mind about something, possibly against his better judgment.

"Listen, I was talking to my cousin yesterday. I met a girl a couple of years back, called Hermione" Sebastian said quickly, watching her face carefully so as to gauge her reaction. He hesitated as he saw Blaise convulsively bite her lip at the mention of his friend's name, but continued doggedly nonetheless.

"She told me she went to Hogwarts and I guess I kind of thought she'd be here. But I talked to the twins and they told me an awful story. And I know they wouldn't lie to me, but maybe you understand what it's like to not know the whole story about someone you care about. They told me that you were her friend, and I guess I'm wondering if maybe you could tell me what happened, because they weren't close with her and they said that you'd probably know more than they - " Sebastian came to an abrupt stop as he realized that he had been rambling, and sighed sharply, all the energy flowing from his tensed form. Blaise observed through detached eyes as he took several calming breathes, she was mentally wondering why she hadn't already stepped back and simply walked away as she had done countless times when confronted with the conundrum of emotions dealing with Hermione.

She looked away from him.

"I'm not sure how you think it is I can help you" she said coldly. After a few seconds of silence, during which Sebastian deflated even more, she brushed him aside and marched down the corridor, a swirl of conflicting emotions.

It was two days later, during which Harry did talk to Madame Pomfrey to get his hand healed, that Blaise approached him.

He had almost given up hope for hearing her side of the story. Dumbledore had informed him that it wasn't his information to give while Cody and Gypsy had remained sympathetically clueless.

The stories circulating around the school could, obviously, not be relied upon as great sources of truthful information. Therefore the only real way he could gain a clear and unbiased understanding of what had happened to one of his oldest friends (although there were some interesting paradoxes relating to the whole 'alternate dimension' thing, he still considered Hermione of whichever world, his (potential) friend).

Cody, upon discovering his battered hand (it had been his brother who had finally pestered him enough to seek help for the still bleeding hand) had nonetheless understood the cause for it. For the first time in his life, Harry had experienced loving care as only a fussing, overprotective family can provide.

Still, it was his need to find out what had happened that drove him out to the lake the following Thursday. Sitting across from a nervous and slightly wobbly Blaise, skimming pebbles over the surface of the calm lake after classes, it was almost easy to forget the reason he had come.

Of course, that changed once Blaise began to speak, already assuming that he knew the basic story (which he did).

"I went to see her, of course. I mean, she was my best friend and it's not so easy to just forget all that, and I guess that I thought the same would be true for her too. I thought they were lying; that there was something else they weren't telling me…" Blaise trailed off, and threw another pebble into the lake; it made an angry splash far out.

Harry toyed with the pebble he had in his own fingers, shifting it from hand to hand thoughtfully. A whisper of melancholy drew across his face as he leant against the old oak, his head propped up by a knot of gnarling wood.

"I know this story doesn't have a happy ending Blaise, don't try to protect me from anything. It doesn't work that way, I'm afraid." He said softly, before slipping the rock in his hands into one of his pockets.

It was a few minutes before Blaise resumed her story.

"She... we… I had this dream, the day that it happened. It was… terrifying. It really scared me, and I called her up, because I was afraid that something had happened to her… the dream was just so real. But I called her, and she answered and she said she was fine. She thought it was really funny, because she said she'd had a nightmare as well, but that she'd gone and had some hot milk and honey and she'd calmed down. My call had woken her up.

I was still feeling a bit scared, like when you're a little kid, and even once the nightmares over, it feels like it's somehow still going. I don't know how to describe it, really, but she said she was okay and that everything was fine, and then she hung up, and I went back to sleep." Blaise stopped to suppress a sob, and rein her voice back into control.

Harry could feel his own heart beating like lead in his chest, the thumps coming at what seemed agonizing minutes apart.

"I had the same dream. Only this time it really wasn't like a dream. It was like a vision, and I was Hermione. They broke into the house, and I'd still been awake from my call with… me… and then I'd been so scared, because I'd known that they were there for me. My parents… woke up… and started shouting things and I could hear them and I knew that I couldn't save them. I went to the window, and I climbed out, I cast a spell on myself so I could fly a short distance, but they were behind me, and they blow the door open" Blaise's voice twisted with tears and anguish as she choked up. Harry's own eyes clouded over and he clenched his hands by his sides.

"They are behind her, and she jumps out, but they hit her. And then she's falling and I'm going up, and she hits the ground… and I wake up. When I had that dream… I knew what had happened. I went to Dumbledore, and he got his little group together, and they found her. She was on the grass, where she fell, that's what Dumbledore told me. They took her to St Mungos, but it was too late. Of course, you know how it is; it's always too late."

There was silence while Harry continued to dig a hole with a stick. Blaise tore apart a blade of grass absently, barely noticing as the messy cut up pieces fell to the dirt at her feet.

Harry sighed deeply, then sucked in his breath in preparation for speech.

"What happened next, I think I know. Hermione went to St Mungos" he started monotonously, eyes not seeing as he jabbed fiercely at the ground "she remained in a coma for eight weeks with an unknown mental state, un-diagnosable by the mediwitches. Her parents were dead; she had no immediate family, very few friends. After fifty-seven days of oblivion she woke up, and was visited by Professor Dumbledore almost immediately. Her now conscious state allowed the healers to assess her mental state, and they found her wanting. She had severe memory loss and was unlikely to ever recover any of her memories, let alone a full recollection of what happened that night. She didn't remember magic, or witches or wizards, or you. She had created, within her mind, an escape wherein her mind had taken refuge. She didn't remember, and she still hasn't." Harry trailed off, the feeling of angst encroaching his heart until he felt sick.

Blaise didn't look surprised at how much he knew – after all, the story had been abuzz around the school for the first couple of weeks Hermione was in the coma, and then again after she had awoken, mindless.

But it had crossed her mind to wonder why he cared. Why he had gone to all the trouble of trying to find out about one fifth grade girl who would never make her sixth year? He may be related to two of the most sticky-nosed people in the school, but the topic of Death Eater attacks was treated with caution, even by the twins.

Actually… who was Sebastian Jamison that he thought he had the right to care so much for Hermione? A girl whom he had met once, never had any opportunity to become real friends with her. It was Blaise who had befriended the shy muggle-born on their very first train ride, Blaise who had been petrified in their second year when the reincarnation, or something, of Tom Riddle had tried to awaken a basilisk. It was Blaise who had jumped in front of that spell, intended for Hermione in third year - Blaise who had sent a ferocious cutting curse at Neville when he made Hermione cry in fourth. Blaise who had urged Hermione on to ask Hector out – even though the Ravenclaw chaser had turned her down – It was Blaise who had been there when Hermione cried, laughed and screamed her frustrations with the world.

Without a further word to Sebastian, inwardly wondering at her own gullibility and recklessness in telling him her side of the story, she clambered up and half ran, half stumbled back up to the castle, not caring what he thought about her.

Harry eyes startled up when Blaise jumped and off, but he wasn't seeing her leave. He saw Hermione's agonized face as she realized she was late for a lesson, running ahead of Ron and him to excuse the teacher and start her writing as soon as possible. Seeing the way she couldn't stop laughing hysterically once two in the morning had passed, and she had stayed up to help the boys finish their assignment.

There was so much life.

He knew, of course, what it was he had to do. One simply couldn't abandon their friends just because they'd been thrown into an alternate reality. It just wasn't fair – he had to go and see her. His Hermione, who wasn't his Hermione.

The girl who may have looked like Hermione, may have sounded and spoken like Hermione, but who was just the shell for the brilliant witch he had been friends with since his first year. And now, less than a shell. A shell whose memory had been stripped and whose mind raped.

The twig in his limp hands snapped suddenly, no match for his unfocused, unhappy, unconsidered magic. He quickly refocused his eyes, regarding with interest the splinters imbedded in the earth. They spelled out a word, plain as day.

But why then, he questioned all the magic inside him, the pain that this is all causing?

Naturally, there was no reply.

A/N: I have totally lost track of all my characters (eg I can't remember if Draco was going to be nice or mean or even exist at all. I'm not sure if I've mentioned him and if I have then was it in the context I now intend for him to be seen? Will I have to redo that chapter – if it exists – or simply change my current plans? Etc. I am in pain.), and for some reason, I can't stop trying (note: operative word) to draw Blaise. o.O

Yes, I am bizarre. But even MORE awesome than my bizarre-ness is the cool piece of trivia that I now have but two years of that awful thing called school (pfaaa!) left! Yes, meh'peeps! It is true! I'm year eleven now and teachers have been THROWING work at me – thus I have produced a spiffy long chapter for y'all and happily ignored them!

SO IS THE NATURE OF THE PROCRASTINATOR! HAIL ME ALL!

….

This was a boring chapter. I wanted to get the Hermione thing over and done with because I've been putting it off for long enough. (Gosh, try almost a YEAR now! xX) But I figured: be strong and ye shall prevail. So I fought of bravely and tada! An incredibly boring, but nonetheless (I sure use that word a LOT) necessary chapter. Interaction with Hermione coming up NEXT! Also, opinions of pairing will be appreciated. I must warn you: I am currently planning on making this pairing-less on account of the way it will all finish would be very awkward if Harry had some soul-mate he had to carry off with him… (giving it away some, ai?) Weeeellll…

…Yeah. Love yous. Review. + nice day!

3

(Oh, byz the way – the weird introductions in Italics for the different dimension flippos? Yeah, the weird ones that made you go 'wah?' – you can ignore them. Result of some kinda drug that I'm sure I was slipped… all I need is evidence! ;D)