Chapter 50: Nyati

"Well, it's been over a month since the last official meeting of the Bayesian Conspiracy," said Harry, standing to address the room. "What with exams and all, I'm sure most of you were quite busy. But, as it turns out, a few of you dedicated scientists were still experimenting anyway, and it looks like your hard work paid off." He lifted a glass of butterbeer. "Congrats to Padma and Dean on successfully creating the first Magic Detector!"

Cheers rose from the twelve or so members at the table, glasses clinking as they drank. Harry smiled, doing his best to hide his chagrin as Dean and Padma took a bow, glowing with success. Part of being a leader, he supposed, was supporting your team, even if they were running faster than you. Science was a relay race, after all, and a win for one was a win for all.

A couple of people asked for a demonstration, and Dean happily obliged. He stood up, readied his wand and intoned, "Lumos." His wand glowed, and so did—for half a second—the Remembrall in his hand.

The group clapped appreciatively, but Harry wondered if they truly understood how revolutionary this invention was. There were spells to detect dark magic, sure, but all magic in general? It was not a concept Wizards would even consider; it would be like trying to detect water in a pool. It certainly had not been done using anything so ordinary as a Remembrall.

Dean beamed. "But wait, there's more!" He cast a couple more spells, each more complicated than the last, creating an intense glow that looked too hot to touch. Sometimes it burned quick and bright, like a flashbulb, but other times illuminated with a slow, steady shine.

"Why is the reaction always different?" asked Michael.

"Not sure," said Dean, tossing the ball once before putting it away. "The only thing we know so far is that it gets brighter with more powerful spells. Padma's already got a few experiments planned out to test it—she's the brains behind this operation, by the way, don't let her tell you different. This invention would still be just a figment of my imagination without her."

"That's not even half true," she said, with a hesitant smile. "It was your ideas that made it all possible. There were some rough patches, but I never felt like giving up, and that was all because you were by my side."

Dean gazed at her fondly. "Well, I couldn't have asked for a better research partner."

Oh now you're just rubbing it in, glowered Harry. At least Dean didn't spin Padma around and kiss her, that would just be too much. Hermione was too busy to come, and he was glad of it. He didn't think she would be too comfortable seeing all the PDA with her ex-boyfriend.

"If all goes well, we should be able to start tracking energy data in Hogwarts after a couple weeks," said Dean. "If we can figure out how magic is shorting out electricity, we can bring the future of technology to our school."

"Oh, fess up, you just want to play Nintendo games," said Seamus, laughing.

"That's not true," declared Dean. "There's also all the TV shows I've been missing."

Everyone laughed, and Dean sat back down next to Padma, linking hands with her.

"You've done great work, friend," said Seamus, clapping him on the back. "Proud of you."

Dean looked at Harry, who felt all the eyes turning to them as if Something Very Important was about to be said. "I wanted to thank you, Harry. You taught Padma and I everything we know about science, and we wouldn't have even attempted this without you. With that in mind, we made a few more of the Magic Detectors, and we wanted to give one to you."

Harry accepted the gift, said something suitable back in response, probably directly quoted from one of his public relations notebooks. He felt kind of like a Scrooge for not being as heart-warmed as he ought to be.

Listen, the saying goes, 'Those who can do, those who can't teach,'" said Slytherin. "And I'm not about to be tearing up with joy over the fact that this sentence describes me.

Screw it, let's just join Dean's research team, said Gryffindor. Maybe Dean's plucky attitude will transfer to me by osmosis and I can actually win at something for once.

Erm, how about let's not make reckless decisions today? cautioned Ravenclaw. Unlike last time where we got drunk and almost did the thing we don't talk about. It's been weird with Neville ever since, you know.

As everyone went back to drinking and chatting, Harry stared at the ball in his hand. What would be an appropriate thing to do with this? Toss it up and down? Display it on a shelf like a trophy? What about—

Then, Harry had one of those moments he'd read about, where a bell went off and a lightbulb appeared over the person's head.

Umm…what did I say about not doing something reckless?

Harry tried his best to get back to his duty of socializing, but then the idea went and started forming a hypothesis and experiments. It was like Harry was one of those people who couldn't stand not being involved in a project, even after just breaking it off with an old one. He had lots of spells that needed retesting, after all, and there was one in particular he had a lot of questions about. Maybe now he could finally get some answers.

Sooo there's at least eight experimental rules you're breaking even by considering this, said Ravenclaw, as Harry snuck away to his lab.

Probably more than that, said Gryffindor. But as I'm taking the proper precautions and doing this in a heavily warded room with the appropriate tools and a skylight for ejecting myself out of in case of emergency, the worst that can happen is I get a stern talking to.

Yeah, that's what you said last time before we got fined for doing Underage Magic. Talk to Hermione first, at least?

Harry briefly considered Ravenclaw's logic, tried to form substantial counterarguments, then sighed.

Sometimes it was annoying being so rational.


Neville was watering his garden of marigolds when he heard a few raps on his door, the pattern almost musical.

Not wanting to get up, he magicked the door open, and Harry stood leaning against the doorway. "Good morrow, Neville! First of all, how are you?"

"Uhh…fine," said Neville. "What do you want?"

Harry'd been about to enter, but he stopped in the doorway. "Why do you think I want something?"

"You never come to find me unless you want my help." Neville felt bad at the pained look that crossed Harry's face, but he still had to be honest. "I've already said I won't help you with any more experiments, but if there's something else…?"

Harry stepped into the room, looking around at the plants, awkward as an elephant in a flower garden. He didn't say anything for a long moment.

"You know I've never really been invested in herbology class," said Harry. "It essentially seems like glorified gardening to me, except the plants try to murder you." He scratched his head. "So this year, I calculated how much effort it would take to meet the bare minimum for passing, and I basically did that. Sometimes I skipped class, just because I wanted to work on projects that didn't require dragon dung and snorg spit." He shuffled his feet. "And so umm…if I went to Professor Sprout now and asked her to let me have a few magical plants for an experiment, she would tell me I'd have to care for them for two weeks and then maybe she'd let me have a petal to experiment on."

Neville had to admit, that sounded pretty accurate. The only thing Professor Sprout loved more than her plants was making her students do her gardening as often as possible.

"So then umm…" continued Harry. "My second option to find magical plants would be to go to the Forbidden Forest, but that's forbidden and probably for good reason. That leaves me with asking a classmate."

"Why don't you just buy them?" asked Neville. "There's a shop in Hogsmeade."

"I'm not allowed to leave the castle at the moment," said Harry. "Well…I don't know that for sure, but my last trip was declined and I'm fairly certain if I ask again they might remember I'm a political liability and ground me here over Easter break for good measure." Harry paused, considered. "I suppose I could order plants over post, but I'm not sure about shipping times, and we leave for break in—"

"I get it," said Neville. "You need my help, and you don't have any other options."

"I just want you to know I considered other options first," said Harry. "I knew you wouldn't want to get involved, so I really did try to find alternatives. That doesn't mean you have to help me, of course. If you say no, I won't try and force you to get involved, and I won't hold it against you either."

Neville considered this. "For this experiment, will the plants be safe?"

"I don't think they'll be injured," said Harry slowly. "But they might not come back the same, so…no, I can't promise."

There was another moment of silence as Neville put down his spade. "Harry, do you know why I stopped doing experiments with you?"

"Erm…I assume you didn't like being a lab rat?"

He shook his head. "Every time you came to me, it was always, 'Neville, I have this wonderful experiment and you really need to help me the safety of the world depends on it.' And then I would do it, because I wanted to help you and I wanted to be like you. But then, I started feeling like the only reason you were friends with me was because you wanted to do experiments. So that's why I stopped."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, swallowing. "I…remember being a bit obsessive about the Source of Magic experiments."

"It was all you cared about for a while, that and duelling. The Bayesian Conspiracy was just another extension of it. But recently, you've changed a little. You're not as…cold, I guess. When people talk to you, it seems like you're trying to listen, instead of seeing a blank space where the person should be."

Harry said nothing, just stared hard at the plants like he was inspecting them.

"All this to say Harry that yes, I will help you. Because you asked me nicely, and because you're my friend. How many plants do you need?"

Harry seemed to take a moment, blinking in surprise. "Five to start with, but I'll need more if it works. A lot more. Maybe fifty or so. By the way, do you also have a menagerie of small magical animals? Minimal sentience is preferred, otherwise I would have just asked the house elves. Oh, and I suppose I'll need to contact Professor Sprout so she can make sure my lab wardings are sufficient for plant experimentation. It might be helpful if you could butter her up a bit first…"

Thinking again, Neville wondered if Harry had changed as much as he thought.


When Hermione met Harry in an indoor greenhouse, she was surprised to see he had constructed an enormous botanical garden in there.

Well…not surprised exactly. Whenever Harry got invested in an experiment, he was more than likely to go overboard. No, what was more surprising was how he'd done this in three days, and the fact that he'd advised her to wear a bubble head charm as this was 'standard procedure' for biological experimentation.

She walked around in the garden, observing rows upon rows of plants. Dark-stemmed Moly grew in patches, their leaves a ghostly white. Wolfsbane bloomed with its lilac flowers in several fairy rings. A house elf scurried by, tightening a knot in the net where a group of Leaping Toadstools were being exceptionally jumpy.

Hermione almost bumped into a giant Mimbulus mimbletonia, grown up to eight feet and looked to be growing still. Even at maturity, they were only supposed to grow two feet.

"I wouldn't get too close," said Harry from behind her. "It makes deep crooning noises when touched, and trust me, that is not an experimental result my ears need to hear again, please and thank you."

Taking a step back, she turned to Harry. He had on a wide brimmed hat, along with a bubble head charm, and he was grinning from ear to ear. "Hello, Ms. Granger. Welcome to Nyati garden. Would you like a tour?"

As they walked along, Hermione said, "Harry, when you called me here and said you had something to show me, I didn't expect you'd taken up gardening."

"Obviously not, that would be too easy. It'll be a menagerie too, just waiting until we get back from break. Figured I'd give these plants a few weeks to see how they fare before I start messing with sentient beings." He checked his watch. "Hang on one moment please."

A house elf poofed in front of him, bowing low. "Lord Potter, I'm here to give you the hourly report on the gardens. Garden A is growing at 20%. Garden B at 45%. Garden C is still maintaining 5% growth. Garden D is wilting. We can't get into Garden E, a Mandrake got too big and is blocking the door."

"Cast a strong silencing spell on the door," said Harry. "Have someone monitor it constantly. If it still hasn't moved in half an hour, contact me and if I don't respond, contact Professor Sprout. In the event of emergency, you have permission to destroy Garden E."

The house elf bowed and left. Harry turned back to Hermione. "So, I'm sure you have questions. All the answers are in my lab, so step into my office, please."

She could tell Harry was enjoying keeping her in suspense, making her wait and wonder as they traversed through the back of the garden. She had to admit, she was impressed and wondering. This wasn't just an experiment, this was a full scale production.

They passed house elves clipping leaves, weeding, monitoring plants—each one wearing a bubble charm over their heads. At one point, she saw two house elves arguing over how to prune a cherry tree. She saw the gardens shift from the magical to the mundane, from Alihotsy to daffodils. All the while, Harry didn't say anything, except to give orders to house elves.

It was odd, as they moved through the gardens she didn't see or hear any bugs or birds, but there was an unmistakable hum in the air. She wondered if that had anything to do with why they were wearing magical oxygen masks.

When Harry opened the door to his office, she walked into a sparsely decorated room with a couch, a desk, a large table, and a wall lined with black lockers. Harry dispelled his bubble head charm. "Don't worry, this room is warded so heavily you won't need it, and it's just a precaution anyways."

As she dispelled her charm, a house elf appeared with some iced tea, offering it to them. Hermione accepted, making sure to thank the tireless elf. As she took a sip, Hermione briefly wondered if Harry had a house elf for everything.

"How's the tea?" said Harry, holding his own glass. "I know it's iced, but I figure it's warm enough here anyway."

"It's not bad. Anyway…you said you had answers?"

"I do indeed." He took a large gulp and set the glass down. "Come over here, I want to show you something."

Harry reached into a locker and drew out a sapling, only about as big as his palm.

"The Wiggentree normally takes about fifty years to grow to maturity." Harry gave the plant to Hermione for her to hold, its roots curling instinctively around her fingers. "That's slow by tree standards. It might explain why there's so few of them around."

As Hermione held the plant, she felt a warm sense of safety, and she remembered that touching the trunk of the tree protected against dark creatures.

Harry took the sapling and put it within the circle carved into the table. He took a step back, his wand level with the tree, and spoke the next words very softly, "Potestas Imprimas."

Hermione could see no magic coming from the wand, but there was an instant reaction in the plant. Its leaves rustled and trembled, and within the next few seconds it grew several inches.

"After about a day," said Harry, levitating it into a large planter. "The tree will be the size of a large sapling. You'll get shade from the tree in about two days."

Hermione stared at the tree as it continued growing, roots digging into the dirt. "What is this, Harry? An aging spell?"

He shook his head. "The spell doesn't have the same effect on all magical plants. Sometimes it makes them stronger and bigger, other times more prolific. For Moly plants, the leaves are ten times more potent in counteracting enchantments. The Leaping Toadstools jump like rockets, and I'm willing to bet that a Baruffio's Brain Elixir made with them actually works. All of the plants are healthier and hardier, as long as they're magical. The spell seems to have no effect on regular plants."

"So…are you saying it's not changing the plant itself, but maybe activating something?"

He grinned. "Ms. Granger, quick on the uptake, as always. Professor Sprout said that she thinks the spell activates their magic. For a time, they are stronger and more powerful. A whispered spell creates a smaller effect than speaking. We haven't even bothered to test shouting because a normal voice was almost too effective, as you can see from the giant Mimbulus mimbletonia out there."

Hermione looked out at his garden, vibrant and growing, that humming noise underneath it all.

As if the air itself was alive. "Do you think this will work on other creatures too?"

"Well, that's why everyone's wearing bubble head charms," said Harry, grinning. "We know that it will. We're just not sure what the effects of the spell will be, or if it's safe for sentient creatures. But I fully expect within the next few years we'll figure all that out, and then we'll see a lot of interesting changes at Hogwarts."

It took Hermione a few seconds to process what he was saying. The spell amplified your magic, as easily as drinking a cup of coffee. That meant 5th year spells would be possible for 1st years. And if that trend continued, what kind of magic would the 7th years be casting?

What kind of spells would the Wizarding world be capable of?

"Harry, this is amazing!" She beamed at him, warm pride bubbling inside her. "How did you find this spell? Did you create it, or…?"

He smiled, taking a swig of his drink. "Remember that old, decaying spellbook you ripped up last year by accident? Well, it's from there, and it's called the 'Spell of Power.'" Harry took a seat on the couch, and Hermione joined him. "I experimented with it last year, and it did nothing. Turns out, the spell only works when you're pointing it at a living thing. Which, by the way, if I had been doing so last year, I would have been breaking like 14 laws of experimentation."

"Very true. But you must have figured it out somehow?"

"I did, using the Magic Detector. I talked to Neville and Sprout, set up a few experiments and started testing. It's interesting, the detector can pick up on the slightest changes in magic. When I saw a tiny blink while pointing it at a Shrivelfig, I knew I was on to something."

Hermione looked at Harry, really looked at him, and said, "Remember back when I said you'd figure magic out someday? In at least 300 years?"

"So pessimistic," he said. "Won't take longer than 200 years."

She smiled. "Well, you're one giant step closer, Harry. I always knew you could do it, and I'm just so proud of you I feel like I could burst."

He turned back to the window, almost looking shy. "Thank you, but I'm nowhere near close yet. All I can optimize right now are a couple of plants. We don't know the spell's drawbacks or if its effects decrease over time but…well, assuming it all works out, it's still going to take a lot of effort to fully research this spell." He turned back to her, his face flushed. "That's why I wanted to ask, will you help me? I want you to be my research partner, explore this spell with me and make sure I stay within ethical bounds."

"I'd be delighted," said Hermione. "Speaking of which…house elves?"

"Ha, I knew you'd say that." He grinned. "Turns out they were more than happy to help the Boy-Who-Lived, once I explained the particulars and promised very stern scoldings if they were bad. Whoever invented house elves is a diabolical madman who truly belongs in the furthest reaches of hell, and my greatest regret is not taking advantage of his work sooner."

"Well, you can only use them," she said, poking his chest. "Until you find a group of people who you'll pay proper wages. You aren't Willy Wonka with his Oompa Loompas."

He sighed. "Yes, Ms. Granger." He said it exactly like she was his teacher assigning him a forty inch paper, though with a cheeky, half-smothered grin. Harry snapped his fingers, and an extremely long parchment appeared in his hand. "So, I wrote a contract."

"I see. Is it for me?"

"Weeeell I thought I'd keep things kosher, money is money. It goes into all the particulars of dividing up ownership, profits, and how you get to boss me around, hopefully with the occasional polite suggestion." He passed it across the couch to her. "You can read it all now if you like, but that's boring when there's celebrating to be done."

She laughed as he pulled her up from the couch, mischief in his eyes. "Ms. Granger, as you know a scientist has to celebrate his discoveries in the traditional way, passed down through generations. So…" He grabbed her waist. "Hold on tight!"

He lifted her off the floor and spun her around. Hermione squealed and held on to his neck, laughing breathlessly until they stopped. Harry laughed too, his face so full of joy it made her heart swell. "Hermione, every time we make a new discovery, I'll spin you like that."

She hugged him, in part to steady herself. "These science traditions are going to make me so dizzy."

"Ohh, good point." His hand ran through her hair. "Let's make a new tradition, then."

Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder, his fingers still playing with her hair. He'd never done that before and it…well, it was definitely adding points to his tally. But right now, all she could think of was how familiar it felt. Perhaps that was what gave her the confidence to bring her hand to rest against his neck, drawing back to gaze into his eyes.

"Harry," she said softly.

The air changed between them, as Harry watched her carefully. "Yes?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

"Me too." He swallowed. "Actually it's…something I've been meaning to say for a while."

They sat on the couch. She gazed into his eyes and somehow this all felt so familiar, like this wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. His hands were on her shoulders, lifting her chin to run a finger down her neck. The soft hum of magic filled the air as he leaned in towards her.

Harry's hands closed around her throat.

She gasped, trying to catch her breath, but his hands only tightened around her neck. Leveraging against her superior strength, he pinned her down, ripped off her necklace and kept squeezing.

She thrashed and kicked, but he stayed where he was, his ring cutting into her neck. All the while, not looking angry, not looking distressed, but staring with the cold, cold gaze of apathy.

"Honestly, I made a mistake," he said. "I should have let you stay dead."

"You," she gasped, eyes widening.

"Me," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. "The prophecies are wrong, Hermione. And you want to know why? Because this fool I'm bound to did the one thing I never would have expected. I have done the world a great disservice and now…it's time…to make it right."

With a strangled cry, she shoved Harry off, the force propelling him hard into the coffee table.

She panted, trying to suck in breath against the vacuum of her chest.

"Hermione!" he scrambled to his knees. "Are you alright?"

She was breathing hard, torn between running away and screaming, when he said something that stopped her. "We need to figure out what just happened, before things get any worse. Do you own a cat necklace?"

"What?! Why would you even—"

"Hermione, I know you're angry," he said, fear widening his eyes. "But something is wrong and we need to figure out why. Do you own a cat necklace?"

"Yes, because you gave it to—" She stopped, touching her neck. "N-no, I don't. I never wear necklaces."

He let out a breath. "And I don't own a ring, but I know I was just wearing one, because I kept thinking of it as a part of me." He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, comparing notes. I spun you around, and then we were on the couch we were…kissing and then I…started to choke you. Is that how you remember it?"

Other details poured in, little ones, that painted two pictures. A couch that was green instead of blue, Harry with his shirt unbuttoned, even though she was now fully clothed in robes. But the worst was those green eyes, growing fierce with scorn and utter revulsion…

"You said you wished I was dead." Hermione shrank back, her voice small. "But it wasn't you."

Harry bristled. "This wasn't supposed to happen! I said I need to be alone one day a month. But you never listen to me—"

"You promised me, Harry! You promised you were done with him!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "How am I supposed to be dating a boy who's talking to the man who wants me dead?"

This isn't right, she thought. None of this is real, think…

She closed her eyes. My name is Hermione, I'm 15 years old…no wait, I'm 16—

Hermione felt the distinct impression of being split in half, like her mind was in two places at once. The other side felt so close she could almost peek behind the veil, but everything was slipping away, like a dream after you wake up, or a melody whose lyrics you can't remember.

She saw Harry bite down hard on his lip, blood leaking out. "Hermione, we're being Obliviated, someone is…stay with me!"

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, and she heard Harry cry out her name before everything went black.


Hermione sat alone at Harry's bedside in the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey tended to other patients. Afternoon sunlight slanted in through the window, casting a golden glow all over the room. It was too bright, so Hermione shifted the curtains to partially block it, leaving his face obscured in shadow.

Though she'd recovered quickly, Hermione had been in the same state as Harry when they'd arrived. According to Madam Pomfrey, her new patient alarm went off, and she walked in to find them sprawled on the infirmary floor, unconscious. There was no one else in the room.

Hermione woke up soon after, as Madam Pomfrey was levitating them into beds. The healer's examination found that they were suffering simultaneously from ME (magical exhaustion) and EMS (extreme magical sensitivity). At which point, Madam Pomfrey declared she ought to start charging money to treat Ravenclaws, and double if it was anyone associated with Potter.

Hermione was still too exhausted by everything to think clearly about what happened, all she knew was that they'd lost time. One minute, she was celebrating with Harry, and then an hour later she was waking up in the infirmary. She would have been more disturbed by this, if not for Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Sprout. They'd both rushed to check on them as soon as they heard. McGonagall had been concerned, but not surprised at how they'd ended up in the infirmary. Professor Sprout shook her heard, claiming and she ought to give Harry two weeks detention for wasting her time.

So now she was just waiting for Harry to wake up so she could see what he thought about the whole thing.

Not that it was going to be an easy conversation.

Biting her lip, Hermione watched Harry shift under the blankets. It was impossible to know just how much they'd forgotten, but she really hoped it wasn't anything important. The last memory she'd had was of them holding each other, and he was running his fingers through her hair and then…blankness. Like when a movie cut out right before the final scene.

Stupid Obliviation magic.

As the clock ticked slowly, she watched him struggle in sleep. He kicked the sheet before laying still, his brow furrowed and wet with perspiration. She touched his shoulder, and found he was soaked there too. Alarmed, she called Madam Pomfrey and asked for a dreamless sleep draught, but the healer shook her head. "Can't do it, love, I'm sorry. Experiments with magic distress the body, and it's better I don't do anything more to him."

"What about a calming draught? Or maybe even some herbal medicine?"

"He'll have some tea ready when he wakes up." She patted her knee. "Don't worry so much, dear. It's only a nightmare. It will pass."

So Hermione did the only thing she could do, which was place damp cloths on his forehead and hold his hand. It seemed to help a little, as his struggles eventually eased. By the time the sun was descending below the horizon, Harry was beginning to stir.

"Hermione?" he mumbled. "Where…am I?"

"In the infirmary," she said, as he struggled to sit up. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "No, like centaur pooping out a hypogriff shit."

"That'll happen when you're suffering from both ME and EMS."

"That's just perfect." Harry grimaced. "Explains why my heart is pounding like a jackhammer and I want to throw up. I need water."

She gave him a cup, and he drank before putting on his glasses. His eyes were bright and intense, no longer the invalid but the scientist. "Hermione, please tell me exactly how we ended up here, because the last thing I remember it was afternoon and everything was fine."

"I don't remember what happened either, but Madam Pomfrey says she found us here at around 4:00 pm. We lost almost an hour." Harry grimaced, leaning back against his pillow. "Professor Sprout and Headmistress McGonagall both think it was the Spell of Power that caused it. Obliviation is a common side effect of experimentation gone wrong, and umm…they think I brought us up to the infirmary before I collapsed."

Harry frowned, licked his lower lip. "Did we have any injuries?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, none at all. Aside from being unconscious. Also umm…" She squeezed Harry's hand. "I'm sorry to say this, but Professor Sprout is shutting down your garden experiment. They're going to destroy everything. She said it's standard procedure for situations like this."

Hermione expected Harry would have an emotional reaction to the news. Instead, he just looked confused. "So were both knocked unconscious, lost our memories and somehow we ended up here…it doesn't make sense. But why am I confused?"

"Harry?" Her voice was gentle. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, they're shutting down my experiment," he said. "I figured they would, and I plan on getting properly indignant about that later. But in the face of our other problems, it seems sort of trivial."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This situation. They're not telling us everything, or it might be that they themselves don't know."

Harry pushed himself upright. "You see, it is the tendency of human beings to fear the unknown. When something unexplainable happens, it makes us feel out of control, and that's Bad. So, we'll latch onto the first convenient explanation, even if it doesn't explain all the evidence, in order to make sense of things. The brain starts pattern matching, stretching evidence to fit the hypothesis, because now you're committed to this theory and it has to make sense." Harry gazed steadily at Hermione. "People usually stop thinking about it once they get to this point. The strength of a rationalist is being able to notice when the evidence doesn't match up and forcing yourself to face that confusion head on."

"So…you don't think the Spell of Power did this to us?"

He shook his head. "It explains some of the evidence, but not all of it. I mean, I've had all kinds of accidents in my experiments. Usually, you can tell something is about to go wrong, and you know it was all your fault when you wake up in the infirmary. But that's not what this feels like. This is like a fever dream that doesn't make any sense and we're just supposed to move on and accept it and…oh no."

The colour drained from his face.

"I can't believe I didn't see the signs. This is 4th year all over again."

As Harry ran his hands through his hair, quietly having a mental breakdown, Hermione sat there as confused as ever.

"You never really told me much about 4th year," she said. "Actually…nobody has told me a lot about it."

"It's…umm…kind of like war trauma? It's the sort of thing you want to box away into a part of your mind so you can move on with normalcy. In mean, now that you've experienced it, maybe you get it. What would be the point of discussing something that made even less sense the more we talked about it? Not that we didn't try, it just…created far more problems than it solved. We weren't exactly comfortable talking about it either."

She sort of understood. It made her think of that infinite mirrors effect. Trying to trace the mirrors back to the beginning only creates more mirrors. Not to mention, she knew enough about the strange things that happened in 4th year to realize that uncomfortable didn't even scratch the surface.

"Well, maybe it won't be so hopeless this time," said Hermione. "There are some similarities between what we're experiencing now and that time with the Gryffindor quest. Maybe that's a connection we can explore? Remus might be able to help too."

Harry sat up straighter. "Yeah, you're right. There are some similarities we could consider. Not to mention, you do have a time turner."

She blinked. "What?"

His eyes were clear and intent. "We don't have to speculate; we could get some concrete answers. That's what time turners are for. Unless you already tried going back and it didn't work."

She sighed. "Harry, if I got knocked out before, what's going to stop that from happening again?"

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know you're nervous, but before you completely dismiss the idea, have you considered the problem for at least five minutes?"

Hermione studied her hands. She didn't want to, but he was right. The idea was worth at least five minutes. "Perhaps I could…go back to the entrance, turn myself invisible—" She clenched her hands. There was something heavy in the air, a presence that felt cold and endless. "I could wait outside…follow myself in…"

NO.

That was it, just that one word, but it shook her to her core. Her entire body froze, like there was a hammer poised to strike if she dared move. She was unable to breathe, or even to think of using the little golden ball tucked under her shirt.

Harry touched her wrist, and she looked down to see a concerned expression on his face. "So…the rationalist part of me hates saying this, but does something about this question make you feel afraid to find the answer?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I can't do it. I'm sorry, Harry."

He shook his head. "It's okay. I just wanted to make sure we explored all options, and apparently time travel isn't one. I don't think it's wrong to be scared, by the way. Whatever it is we're experiencing and trying to discover, I get the feeling it's really, really bad." His voice dropped to a whisper, his face pale. "Something bad enough we want to forget it."

Her head was pounding, fear and exhaustion warring for dominance.

"But that feeling," he said, squeezing her hand. "Hold on to it, Hermione. That's what tells us we're confused, and that something wrong is happening."

His hand was clammy in hers, trembling slightly. She didn't know if it was exhaustion or fear, but she knew this was hard for him too.

It would be so simple to just shut the door, and forget this whole thing happened. It certainly seemed less dangerous than opening Pandora's Box. She hoped that Harry was wrong, but if he wasn't… "Do you think we can fix this, Harry?"

"We've got no choice but to try," he said, squeezing her hand like a lifeline. "I guess my ability to not stop thinking will actually help me here. Somehow, someway, we'll figure out what's going on, and then we'll make a plan to stop it."


Once Hermione left to get food, Harry was alone in the infirmary. Even so, he was quite careful to be quiet when he whispered, "Winky, come here, and cast a quieting spell."

She poofed into existence and did as commanded.

Once this was done, Harry asked, "How did I get here, Winky? It wasn't Professor Sprout or Neville, and nobody else knew I was in the garden. You're in charge of cleaning my office, so…was it you?"

Winky nodded, head bowed low, her whole body trembling. "Yes, my lord."

Harry suppressed a deep sigh. Not even the completely worshipful help was reliable. "Tell me everything that happened, and be completely honest. Start from the beginning."

She blinked and trembled as she spoke. "Winky was watering the Alihotsy, and then I remembered I had to go clean the office. Winky went in and saw you and Hermione on the ground. Winky was so scared you were dead, my lord, and I sent you to the infirmary immediately. Then I went to Madam Pomfrey and buzzed her alarm, so she would come and find you."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Winky was scared, my lord! Winky wanted you and Mistress safe, but I thought the elves would be blamed, and I didn't want all the elves punished! It's all my fault, my lord, if only Winky had come in sooner to clean…I already ironed my hands and my feet, see? You can punish me more, my lord, but please don't hurt the other elves…"

He was beginning to see why owning house elves might be more trouble than it was worth. "Winky. This is very important. Did you heal any injuries?"

She shook her head. "No, my lord. Did you want me to? Should I have—"

"No, and from this point on, just answer my questions and don't say anything else. Unless you think I'd want to know, based on my questions." His head was pounding. "Did you see anyone else in the room?"

"No, my lord."

"Outside the room? Anyone acting suspicious?"

"No one, my lord. Only house elves."

"Does anyone else know you found me?"

Winky shook her head.

"Okay." He let out a sigh. "So I know it's late, but can you fetch someone for me? I want to see Remus Lupin."

Winky disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared. "He is not in Hogwarts, my lord. Winky cannot find him. Should Winky search outside Hogwarts?"

Harry considered this. "You can do that?"

"Yes, my lord, if it's not too far away. Where do you want Winky to go?"

Harry didn't say anything for a long moment. "Since we're not working on the garden anymore, I have a new job for you and the house elves. Listen carefully, I don't have energy to explain this twice. Once I'm done, tell me if you think it's possible, and then tell me if you can do it."


When Hermione left Harry's room, she'd meant to go get food and bring it back. It should have taken 10 minutes at most. On the way back up, her steps felt heavy. Tomorrow she would be duelling Mad Eye. Unlike Harry—who was still stuck in bed—she didn't have an excuse to put it off.

Her hands tightened around the plate. The fight was going to be bad, it was always bad, and the stress seemed to affect her in two ways: either she broke down in tears, or she would get mad and fight. She didn't like the idea of losing control around Mad Eye, so maybe talking to Harry first would help her calm down and handle this rationally.

Hermione froze. She hadn't mentioned her secret to Harry yet. In fact, she hadn't told it to anyone.

Her stomach clenched, and she breathed out shakily. As hard as it was, letting Harry know had to be better than keeping it secret. It would just take a few seconds of bravery, and then they'd eat linguini and pumpkin soup and everything would be back to normal.

When she returned, the door to the infirmary was already locked. Casting a Tempus spell, she realized it was 11:00 PM. Visiting hours were over.

Hermione blinked, checked again. How was that even possible? Then again, she hadn't looked at the time before leaving, maybe it was later than she thought…

She briefly considered using the time turner to gain access to the infirmary, but if Harry found out she used it for this and not for sleuthing in the past, she would never hear the end of it.

There was a small part of her that was feeling confused, but a much larger part of her that was feeling exhausted, and she knew she needed rest before she started seeing enemies around every corner.

Oh well. She shook her head and walked back to the Beauxbatons dorms. I really do need to keep better track of the time.