Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter, nor do I make money off of this. Please don't sue me! The IRS owns everything already.
A/N: Thank you Moonfairyhime for being a wonderful beta!
Chapter Eleven: Practicing
Hermione had vague recollections of the muggle world. It existed in her imagination while she was at Hogwarts, an idle daydream for when the rigors of the wizarding world and their studies became too much. But being out on her own, in a town she only vaguely remembered, was quite another story.
The park was familiar. Her mother had taken her to it when she was little. The swings were abandoned when she found them. The day was quiet, a bit overcast and it suited her mood to a tee.
Hermione closed her eyes. She could see the headlines as though the papers were right in front of her. Potter Is the New Dark Lord! Read one. Slaughter in Ireland, Ministry Suspects Rogue Death Eaters To Blame. That had been from the Daily Prophet. The other papers had all had their speculations set on Harry and his disappearance. And Hermione…Why do I feel so confused?
She leaned back in the swing and gave it a push. The creak of the ancient hinges sounded loud in the silence of the park. There were a few joggers running about the small path that ran along the fence. The tiny pond at the far corner had ducks swimming in an orderly line, their young trailing along in their wake. It was peaceful, tranquil, muggle and Hermione felt utterly out of her element.
Does this happen to all muggle-borns? She drifted higher, enjoying the sensation of flying. Which world do I want to be a part of? The muggle world or the wizarding? I always thought I'd be with Ron's family. We'd battle the Dark Lord. Get married. Have children. She shook her head at the flimsy dreams of past years. Looking back on them, they seemed futile, weak, stupid even. And Harry was never in them, she realized with a jolt. Her legs stopped moving. Her swing began to slow down. When did that happen?
She let her feet scrape along the ground, stopping her movement. When did Harry disappear out of the futures I put together? She stared at a distant point, rummaging around through her memory. In second year, she'd fancied Harry for a few weeks – although she hadn't breathed a word about it to anyone. The crush had been short lived, for which she was grateful. But still, even in that year, she remembered thinking that they would be together forever, in one way or another.
Third year…she cast back. Third year they had faced their teacher who had become a werewolf. It was the first time she had been in direct danger because of something that had involved Harry. She was his friend. So she had been a peripheral target. Even if it was to get them to witness Peter's transformation.
Perhaps it was the summer between third and fourth year. She mused on the thought. But she had stayed at Harry's side during fourth year, even when Ron had turned his back on the other boy.
No, it must have been the tournament. She narrowed her eyes. The wizarding world was a dangerous place, she'd known that. But seeing students, her friends, her classmates, being exposed to death and disfigurement, while the crowd roared, made her realize in one moment that the world she had stepped into was as alien to her as the surface of Mars.
But it had become her home. She'd been horrified, but not for long. She'd accepted the arcane traditions, vowed to change others, but had aligned herself to the mentality of the world she had entered at the age of eleven.
Ron's family helped that along, the thought wasn't quite as bitter as she would have liked it. For all of Ron's failings, she'd liked his mother and father. The family was warm, accepting and more than delighted to have her stay with them. She was sure Molly had been making plans for her and Ron almost from the start of the summer between fourth and fifth year. The glint in the older woman's eyes had been particularly pleased, and while it had alarmed Hermione, it had been…nice too.
Then it all fell apart, she had to swallow a few times to make the sudden lump in her throat fade away. The frantic late-night meetings with Percy. The sudden hostility of Molly towards Harry. But Harry's place in Hermione's future had already been vacated, she realized with a start.
She settled both her feet on the sand. It was the death of Cedric, the thought hit her with sudden brilliance. That was when I knew. Harry had no way out of the wizarding world. No family he could turn to, like I could, if I wanted out. He was stuck in a place where everyone looked up to him, everyone suspected him, where everyone was waiting for him to fail. That's when I knew he was going to die, one way or the other, by the end of the war. It was just a matter of time.
The realization hit her like a fist to the gut. She leaned over her knees, trying to draw breath. I'd already lost faith in him, before Percy started with his lies. She closed her eyes to the relentless voice. I was already looking for some way to distance myself from him. And Harry…Harry had no one. We all turned our backs on him. We pushed him away and burned the bridges and oh, Harry…
She slid off the plastic seat of the swing, crumpling to the ground. She buried her hands in the sand, the fine grains pushing their way under her nails. What now? She drew in a shuddering breath. Do I turn my back on him again, because of speculation and gossip? Do I smash the brittle remains I managed to repair last year? Do I let the wizarding world shred their hero to bits and pieces, while they have no idea what he gave up to save them all?
"No." The word ripped itself from her throat. She raised her head, staring at the distant pond. "I won't let them do it. I know they don't trust me, but I won't fail Harry again. He's my friend. He would never harm anyone. He's more than they'll ever know, or ever understand." A muscle worked in her jaw. She got to her feet and swatted at the sand covering her clothes.
She made her way to the street and back to her house. She had packing to do, and an argument to win with her parents. She had to get to the wizarding world. She had to do something. And this time, her smile became sly, I have more than Gryffindors to help me figure things out.
She all but ran for home.
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Blaise walked down the dirt path that led to Neville's house. The property was set off a county road, then off a gravel road, with an easy Apparition point just behind a grove of trees. The screen hid travelers coming and going from the region. From his fathers, Blaise had gotten the information that a number of wizards and witches had been moving to the area, despite the pollution from the nearby large towns. It had something to do with the lay lines, was what his mothers said.
His birth mother was busy with the coming babies. The nursery in their manor had been made up with neutral yellow tones, though his Fathers had wanted blue. Ever practical, Blaise's mother, Hannah, would leave the final trim until the children had been born and their sexes identified.
What if one of them is a hermaphrodite? The random thought almost made Blaise miss the rock in the middle of his path. A stumble, near fall and various oaths later, he smoothed back his hair, checked the area for unseen watchers and shook his mind back to order.
He had promised Neville to go walking that day. The former Gryffindor had wanted to show Blaise the places he had been wandering around since he was a child. Blaise had no great fondness for tramping about in the wilderness, but if it was something Neville wanted – and more importantly, an idea Neville offered voluntarily – Blaise was more than happy to oblige.
I hope he knows to pack food. Blaise had managed to eat a large breakfast, but his stomach already felt empty and was whining for more. His mother had laughed it off, saying that his father had been much the same at his age. Always hungry, always eating and never gaining an ounce. She said it would herald another growth spurt. Blaise didn't much care either way. He just wanted more food.
He had a packet of squished sandwiches from the house elves of his manor, but he didn't want to open them yet. Still, the thought of the food made his stomach rumble yet again. Surely he'd be able to eat one and give the other to Neville. He'd just skip lunch. Or perhaps Neville would share his as well…
"Blaise!"
He looked up to see Neville waving from the porch. He waved back and forced his feet to stay in a sedate walk, rather than to break into a jog. He'd already embarrassed himself once on the walk over. He didn't want to do it again.
He climbed the steps, realizing that as he stopped on the second to the top, he was taller than Neville, who was standing above him. He looked down at his feet, looked to Neville, then frowned.
"Blaise?"
"I think I grew on the way over here." He studied his pants. They were, indeed, showing the tops of his shoes.
Neville followed his stare. "Are you all right?"
"Fine. Just something Mother said."
"This is normal?"
"Apparently."
Neville's nose wrinkled. Blaise knew it meant the other boy was trying to puzzle through some thoughts he thought the Slytherin would not appreciate. "Would like a second breakfast then? Gran has a cold one out, since we didn't know if you had eaten yet."
He grasped Neville's arm, mounted the last step and hustled him to the door. "That, Neville my most wondrous and dearest friend, would be delightful." They had a bit of a foul up with the screen door. Blaise got it open without cursing, a fact for which he was most grateful when he saw Gran standing in the kitchen.
She took one look at him and pointed at the chair. "I've seen that look before. Thought it would be Neville first. Go on, then. We'll have a lovely second breakfast. Then you can take him out and about, Nev."
"Yes, ma'am." The sandy haired boy blushed, but slid into his seat next to Blaise.
"More for you too, Neville?"
"No ma'am. Just tea please."
"Smart boy."
Blaise watched the older woman work with hungry eyes. "Sorry," he managed, tearing his gaze away. "It just started the other week. I can't seem to stop eating."
"Such is the way of young men," Gran tutted while Neville blushed and smiled. She set a plate of scones on the table. "Get started on this – Neville you may have two at most, hear me? I'll whip us up some pancakes and eggs."
"Could we have sausage too?" Neville surprised him.
"You want sausage, boy? I thought you hated the stuff."
"I do."
Gran cast a look over her shoulder, snorted and rolled her eyes. "Lost, the both of you. Fine, we'll have sausage too. Neville come help."
"Yes, Gran." The light of Blaise's life slid out the chair with a wink. If the formidable Gran hadn't been standing mere feet away, Blaise would have kissed him.
Still might, if he could get the chance while her back was turned.
He leaned back in his chair and made short work of the scones. It was the beginning of a perfect day.
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Breakfast at the Black Manor was always a loud affair. Sirius' mood had been on an upswing since the news from the Ministry was that they could not find any evidence linking Harry to the murders in Ireland. He'd even got a note from the Secretary of the Ministry, telling him how they were working with all haste to formally return Harry to his godfather's guardianship. It filled Sirius with hope.
Ginny had also shaken off her funk. The youngest Black was going to learn how to ride a horse that afternoon. They had wanted to wait for Harry, but one look at his daughter's – my daughter! – face had caved in Sirius' good intentions. They would go out today and have another ride with Harry, later on. The boy wouldn't mind.
Remus was the only dark note, if he could even be called that. The werewolf was still recovering from the effects of the full moon. The padded dungeons in the Black Manor had not been their ideal place for Remus to change, but until they could get the Wolfsbane potion from Snape, it was their only recourse.
Damn slimy git, Sirius pushed the thought of the man from his head, refusing to let anything spoil his mood.
"Can we go yet?" Ginny had been done with her breakfast in minutes.
Sirius peered down at his plate, then into his teacup. "Well, I don't know…" But he could feel the edge of his mouth start to twitch into a smile.
"Let's go!" Ginny bounced up from her chair, her cane planted on the ground. "Come on! It won't be morning forever! Please? Pretty please?" She cast large eyes onto her father. Sirius felt his heart melt.
He drained the last of his tea. "Right then, you heard the little lady." He pushed his chair back. "Bill's with us, right?" The wary look was replaced by a bobbing nod the second Ginny's stare swung his way. "And you Remus?"
"I'll have to stay here," the werewolf was still in his morning robe. There were a few scratches visible on the aging skin, but Sirius had the idea that only he could pick them out.
"You sure, Moony?"
Thin fingers waved him off. "Go, go. I'm still shaky. I think I'll go sit and enjoy the sun for a while." His smile was gentle. "The horses don't like me anyway. Can't imagine why." His wink set them all to laughing.
Sirius leaned down for a quick kiss as Ginny and Bill made gagging noises. Remus touched his cheek as he pulled back.
"Remus?" The look in the amber eyes was strange.
The expression vanished as fast as it came. "What?"
"Do you want me to stay here?"
The aquiline nose wrinkled. "Heavens no. You'd be bored within minutes and bothering me. Go on. Have fun."
He blew a raspberry against the unshaven cheek and bounded away. But the flash of emotion in his lover's eyes hovered in the back of his mind all morning.
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"So. How do we do this again?"
Harry cast a look at the blond. "I've already told you about six times."
"Well, tell me again."
Harry and Draco had managed to slip from the attention of the adults early in the morning. Harry had wanted to go out on the grounds, anywhere but back to his room. He'd made progress, much to Healer Fabing's relief. His nerves were holding steady. His body wasn't rejecting the potions they were feeding him. His eyesight had even stayed clear for an entire day.
But now Harry wanted out of the house in the worst way. He'd never spent much time cooped up before. He had discovered he'd hated it - with a passion.
"We need to find a door," he'd forgone the cane that Draco had wanted him to have. But the blond worked just as well as a prop, so Harry didn't mind.
"A door. There's plenty of doors inside the house."
He tugged on the arm he was holding. "Don't be fussy, Draco."
"I'm not fussy."
"Then what's wrong?"
The blond stopped their slow progress towards the formal gardens. "You'll tire yourself out."
"Nonsense."
The blond arched an eyebrow at him.
"Well it is."
"Harry."
"What?"
"Can you walk on your own?"
"Not here."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see."
"Harry."
"What?"
The blond gripped his shoulders and turned him. Draco's gaze was concerned. "Tell me what's going through your head."
Harry blew out a long breath. "Look, it's a hunch I have."
"Hunches."
"Yes."
"Slytherins don't work on these hunches, Harry."
"Well, I was a Gryffindor once." He shrugged. "Must be left over." He pulled away from the blond's hold to get a better look at two trees that were leaning together to form an arch. "There we go."
"What?" Draco turned, caught up with him in a few easy strides, and grabbed his elbow. "Trees?" His tone was incredulous.
"You're not going to go skeptical on me now, are you?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's go, Potter."
Harry hid a smile. They approached the leaning arch, stopping so that they were just to one side of the opening.
"Now what?"
"Now we enter."
"They're trees, Potter."
"Brilliant deduction."
"Harry…"
"Look, they're trees yes, but things don't work in the Otherwold like they do here." Harry freed his arm and raised his hand. He ignored the fine tremors that ran the length of it. "Don't you feel it?"
Draco opened his mouth to retort, closed it with a snap and shook his head. He turned to the opening and studied it. A sudden frown drew him closer. "Merlin," he breathed. "I see it!"
"Told you so."
"Don't rub it in, Potter. It's plebian."
Harry snickered and started forward. There was a weakness to his left leg he didn't like. He didn't know for how much longer he'd be able to stand.
They hit the opening together. A shiver of power sped down their spines. The world around them went dark, gray, then back to normal. Or as normal as things ever were in the Otherworld.
They arrived at the outskirts of what looked like a small town. The pristine grounds of the Malfoy estate were gone. The Dark hovered at their backs, but the malevolent presence Harry had felt before was gone. Now it was merely curious, intent, and watchful.
"Merlin." Draco had a fist in Harry's jumper. "The things you get me into, Potter."
"Would you rather go home?"
"How?"
Harry turned to look behind them. But the doorway was gone. "Well, shite."
The look Draco aimed his way was dour. "I told you so, Potter."
"It wasn't my fault!"
"You boys lost?" The new voice scared them both. Harry felt his breath catch in his chest, but something else caught his attention entirely. His hadn't even twinged when he'd jumped. It felt fine. Strong. Steady. He looked down and flexed it, a delighted smile growing across his face.
"Dearies?"
"Harry?"
"My leg works again!" He jumped a few times. He wasn't out of breath at all. "I feel wonderful!"
Draco's eyes went wide. "You mean…"
"Boys!"
They turned to the woman standing on the Path in front of them. She was glaring at them both.
"Sorry, ma'am," Harry said.
The woman…at least Harry thought she was a woman, gave them a once over. "Mortals." She shook her head, then leaned forward to get a better view of Harry. "Well I'll be stuck in a pot and roasted. You're the Dreamer!"
Harry felt a flush spread over his face. "Uh, I…"
"Merle! Come on over here and take a look at this! It's the Dreamer!"
Harry backed into Draco's solid form. "I really don't know what you're talking about," he tried.
"Oh, nonsense. You're the Dreamer that woke us all up!" The woman was plump, with her dark blond hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head. The basket she carried over her arm was covered by a white cloth. The clothes she was wearing were centuries out of date. Merle, who turned out to be a moss-covered man larger than Hagrid, stepped out of the forests that were appearing even as they spoke.
"Come, come." The woman beamed a smile at them. "We'll have us a nice lunch. So many people will want to meet you!"
"In what way?"
She laughed. "To thank you, silly child. Who's your guest?"
"This is Draco." Harry could feel the blond's silent tension thrumming against his back. "We were just…practicing," he felt foolish admitting it to the woman.
"Excellent idea!" She waved the forward. "Come on then. The Door won't be back for a while. It's temperamental that way."
Draco moved, keeping one arm around Harry. "Temperamental?" He asked the woman.
"Well, yes. It's been so long since it was used. Gets quite cranky when it gets disturbed." She shrugged. "I'm Gwenn," she said.
They fell into step with her and the…man. Harry eyed the quiet Merle. "It's nice to meet you, Gwenn."
Her broad smile was warm. "And very nice to meet you." She poked Merle with a finger. "Don't be rude, Merle. Say hello."
The sound that came out of the man shuddered Harry's bones. Draco pushed him to the other side of his larger body, away from Merle.
"Oh don't worry. That's the way Merle talks. You get used to it after a while." The cheerful woman all but bounced her way into the small village. "We're not quite set up, yet. It's been so long since we've been awake, some of us are a bit foggy."
"Have you been awake long?" Draco kept a close eye on the creature to Gwenn's left, but his tone was polite and interested.
"Oh, I've been awake for a while. Don't think I ever went to sleep, really." Gwenn paused in front of a thatched hut. "Come in, come in!"
Draco went first, though Harry could see the faint wrinkle of his nose as he entered. Harry was right behind him. To his surprise, the hut wasn't a hut once he entered. The arched ceiling rose far above their heads. Two roaring fireplaces were bisected by a long table with benches on either side. It reminded Harry of the Great Hall in Hogwarts, only on a smaller scale.
"Welcome to my home," their host said.
"To whom do we owe this pleasure?" Draco was the first to find his voice. They stood with their backs to one of the fires, the heat radiating into their bones.
The woman set the basket down on the table. Whatever was inside gurgled and jostled the covering. Merle moved into the room, holding an armful of wood. They hadn't noticed it before.
"I am Gwenn Teir Bronn," she said. She bent over the basket and twitched aside the covering. A newborn waved a fist at her, a happy gurgle pushing spit bubbles past pale lips.
Harry exchanged a glance with Draco. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't recognize your name."
"Oh you wouldn't, laddy!" She lifted the child from the warm nest and put him on her shoulder. The cloth was in place for the discharge the large burp engendered. Harry heard Draco make a sound and elbowed him in the side to keep him quiet.
"So, you're the goddess of…" Harry let the question hang.
"Hm?" She blinked up at them. "Motherhood, sorry."
"Is he your…youngest?"
"This one? Oh no. His mother didn't want him." A dark look passed across her face. "The ungrateful wench was going to leave him in a place for trash. Trash!" Her sniff could have cut steel. "But I found him in time."
"Is he all right?" Draco's unexpected question piqued Harry's interest.
"With a little food, a good warm bed, he'll be right as rain. Won't you, love?" Her soft gaze transferred to the child. She cut a look to the hearth. Harry felt the Otherworld shift around him. A cradle appeared, close enough to the warmth to keep the child toasty, but not harmed. Gwenn settled the baby under soft blankets.
"Now," she whipped off the cloth that lay over her shoulder. Merle had moved past them to a bin near the far end of the room. "Who's hungry?" Her eyes were framed by a nest of wrinkles.
Harry shrugged at the glance Draco gave him. "Both of us, ma'am. Thank you."
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"Enjoy it?"
They were sitting at the long table, Gwenn opposite them. The food had been warm, filling, and better than anything Harry had ever eaten.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered after wiping his mouth. He didn't need Draco's lessons in manners to remind him.
It had taken some coaxing, and a number of reassurances from Harry, before Draco had begun to eat. Since the blond had taken the Vision Potion as well, the food would not hurt him.
"I'm not sure the food here would hurt anyone anymore," Gwenn had said with a frown. "We're so close to the mortal world again. It might not make a difference." But Harry's argument had been the one to win over the blond.
Draco ate with the precision Harry was suspecting every pureblood witch and wizard learned from the moment they were born. But his appetite had not wavered at the hearty stew, the crusty bread and warm butter Gwenn's table had produced.
"You serve an excellent table," Draco commented, after he had wiped his mouth.
The crinkles around Gwenn's eyes grew in number. "Such a polite young man." She sighed and turned to look for Merle. The moss man had disappeared after they had sat down to eat. "I am sorry for my Merle. He's a bit shy."
"If I may ask," Draco leaned forward. "What exactly is Merle?"
"Oh, he's one of mine. The last I found before I…napped." She wrinkled her nose. "Poor boy's been lost without me. Last time I saw him he had no moss at all. Now he's all but covered."
"Yes, but what is he?"
"Dryad and something," she shrugged. "His mother died bearing him. I never did hear what happened to create him. But I have my suspicions."
"And he survived?"
"From what he's told me, he almost died a number of times." Sorrow made her look older. "But sometime in the last few years, he's managed to find refuge in some parks. Seems as though the mortals haven't lost all sense yet."
"There's hope," Draco drawled.
"Ma'am, may I ask…Who else is in this village?" Harry was full of questions. "And how do you leave here? I mean, not to be rude, but we have – well, Draco's father will be furious if we're gone long."
Gwenn's sharp eyes narrowed. "And your parents, young man?"
"They're dead."
"Severus cares if you're gone. So does my father," Draco cut in, catching Harry's attention. "And there's that godfather of yours."
Harry managed a smile. "You have a point about Sirius."
"And Severus. And Father."
"Draco…I think they tolerate me, not like me."
"Nonsense. Severus thinks the world of you."
Harry snorted.
"Well, he's not demonstrative, Harry. But he wouldn't have gotten Rayne for you if he didn't care." A sudden frown wrinkled Draco's forehead. "Speaking of, I wonder how he did that."
"How did he do what?" Harry could see Gwenn following their conversation with interested eyes.
"Severus would have had to go to the Head Auror to request Rayne's presence." Draco's narrow look went thoughtful. "I'm sure Scrimgeour was more than willing to have it happen, since he's challenging Fudge's position as Minister, but still…"
Harry goggled. "He went to the Head Auror for me?"
"I told you, he likes you." But the blond's attention was taken by whatever was going through his mind. "Still, if he went to Scimgeour," Draco drew in a deep breath. The concentrated expression vanished. "Well, we'll see about that."
"See about what?"
"Don't worry about it, Harry. It's nothing."
Harry could only shake his head.
"What happened to your parents, Dreamer?" Gwenn's question turned their attention back to her.
"They died fighting the Dark Lord."
She sat back, the sharp movement making them jump. "Who, now?"
"Voldemort. He was an evil wizard. He trapped the…"
She waved off the explanation. "Ah yes, the mortal wizard with ambition. Him."
"Who did you think we meant?"
"No one, child." She shook her head. "A bad memory from another time."
Harry felt a chill go down his spine, but could not place why. Draco didn't seem to sense anything.
"So what will you do with the child?" The blond was far more interested in the goddess.
"The babe?" Her eyebrows rose. "Well, I'll find him a family, I will."
"Here?" Harry looked around the great all. "Is he mortal or…other?"
"This one? Oh he's a mortal, dear. I can't go into the mortal realms all the time quite yet. But once I recover my strength, I'll be doing my rounds."
"Rounds?"
"To find the children that are left behind. The ones no one wants. They all come to me." Her chin rose. "I find them families where they'll be loved and wanted. I used to take the form of a stork when I dropped them off. I've heard there's a mortal saying about me now." The twinkle in her eyes grew. "That might just be why I've been so aware these last few years."
Draco frowned and turned to Harry. The smaller boy resisted the urge to smack his forehead with the palm of his hand. "The stork brought you," he murmured.
"What?" Draco's scandalized tones drew laughter from the goddess.
"Something my Aunt Petunia used to coo at Dudly. That the stork brought him." Harry gave the woman a wary look. "You weren't out and about seventeen years ago, were you?"
"Stars, no. I was asleep until this past year."
"Good." Harry heaved a relieved sigh.
"Storks!" Draco was still muttering. "I'll never understand muggles, Harry. Never."
Gwenn's smile was delighted. "Such lively young men you are."
Harry resisted the urge to blush.
"But you should be going now," the goddess rose. They followed suite. "The Door should be back in place. It never leaves for more than an hour. Once it gets used to us coming and going, it'll stay up all the time."
"Ma'am," Harry began. "Thank you, but I have a question. If we wanted to come back…how do we do that?"
"You mean you've not been taught?"
"Well, I have a teacher. But she's said we have to practice on our own, till we get the way of it."
"Greek, I bet." The goddess' eyes were glittering. "They've always preached teaching by the hard way. Silly lot, all of them."
Harry swallowed down the laughter that wanted to escape. "Yes ma'am. She's Greek."
Gwenn rolled her eyes. "Come now, I'll show you." She escorted them out and back down the road. Harry craned his head to look around the rest of the village, but there was no one else in sight.
"They'll be coming around soon," Gwenn answered his unspoken question. Her pace was quick, so that he had to hurry to keep up. "They're all asleep. We look after them, Merle and I, until they can take care of themselves."
"How many are there?"
"Oh a dozen or so. Mostly minor deities." A wave of her hand dismissed the topic. They were at a shining arch that had risen up out of the Dark to one side of the Path. "Now pay attention," she turned to them.
"Each Door has a name. The name," she gave Harry a look, "is written in the aura around it. From the mortal world, a Dreamer or Seer can open any door he knows the name of. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Harry tucked the information away. "Thank you."
"Good. Now this is the Door to Cnoc an aon Chrainn. Can you remember that?"
"Yes ma'am." The strange vowels felt heavy in Harry's mouth. He mangled the pronunciation with a wince.
"Don't worry about having to say it out loud. Knowing where you want to go is half the battle."
"It's like Apparition." Draco rocked back on his heels.
"That I don't know," the goddess said with a smile. "But off you go now, before the Door decides it wants to leave again."
"Thank you," Harry stepped forward. "I hope you find the baby a good home."
Her smile was soft as she reached up to touch his cheek. "Don't worry, Dreamer. He'll be fine. So will you."
Harry ducked his head before she could see his eyes.
"Thank you," Draco stepped up behind him. The blond rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I hope we meet again." He guided Harry to the portal. The dark haired boy spared a glance over his shoulder at the woman. She smiled as they stepped through.
"Oh you'll see me again," she said to the vanishing door. Her smile slid away. "I'm almost sure of it." She shook her head with a sigh and turned for home.
End Chapter Eleven