AN: Thanks so much for the love and support this fic received so far 3

This chapter ended up being a bit more serious than the previous one.. but plot is picking up more too :)

Chapter 5: Old friends

It takes his godfathers a long, long time to come to terms with their newfound discoveries. They've both settled in their dislike for so long, thinking of the other as a bad influence to their mutual friends, that it is hard to suddenly drop all that and settle down.

Secretly, Harry is slightly relieved for it. As great as it is that the misunderstanding over their soul marks has been cleared up - including the theory that non-matching ones exist - and as much as Harry wants happiness for both of the men who've taken him in, it does not mean that he is absolutely fine with it. Not in the way that he does not want them to be together, otherwise he'd never have cleared up their misconceptions in the first place, but due to all of his previous knowledge. The 'old' Snape and Sirius had been constantly at each other's throats. All the years of semi-normal interactions have never erased that first impression of pure hatred that Harry witnessed in his other life.

There lies the sore point: he knows they are capable of loathing each other's very existence, and their core personalities are not so different than before. It is only the circumstances of this life, their experiences, which have shaped them in ways that didn't happen before. Harry is terrified to suddenly come home to his godfathers fighting, breaking apart further than ever. A romantic relationship could strain boundaries that did not play a role when they were 'friends' who stuck to their respective spaces in the house on the occasion that both were present.

Has Harry made a mistake in pushing this knowledge on them? Did fate intend for them to find out much later and has Harry ruined it? It wouldn't be the first mistake he's made in the assumption of doing the right thing. If so, he wouldn't even be here right now.

Guilt gnaws at him regardless of how he attempts to view the situation. Despite not knowing of the soul bond, their life so far constantly made the men cross paths, be it before at the Potter house or now to raise Harry. Clearing their misreading of the soul marks unfortunately drives – at least initially – a wedge between the men that causes a dangerous gap. They may both be adults with full awareness of the possible consequences, but by Merlin are Sirius and Severus stubborn.

Those first couple of months especially, Harry finally sees a live example of why soulmates should not separate for extended stretches of time. Sirius is affected more severely by the deterioration, three months of fleeing the house whenever Severus floos in enough to cause a lack of sleep, volatile bursts of accidental magic one would rather expect from an untrained child and a general lacklustre attitude. Maybe Severus just hides it better, or has potions to counter it… or it's simple luck: not everyone is affected the same by the phenomenon, if at all.

Harry is grateful that if the deterioration will become an issue in the future, it doesn't yet apply to himself. It might have, since he first met Voldemort years ago and was technically born with a developed magical core. That meeting could have been enough to solidify their bond to the extent of being permanently hurt by the other's absence instead of only feeling that sharp initial pain that ebbed away with time. Especially considering the brief visit had been enough for a piece of Voldemort's very soul to latch onto him, it's one of magic's small miracles that Harry isn't spending the years apart withering away. Perhaps it's because of the Horcrux? A part of the Dark Lord is always here…

Would Voldemort notice anything since that fateful day? Could he, as the wraith he must have become?

While his godfathers are occupied with figuring out how to move on from here together, both of them still mulishly choosing to throw themselves furiously into their jobs to avoid the topic, Harry takes much the same route. The hunt for Horcruxes has stagnated as he can't figure out how to get a hold on the last few for the longest time. His break-in at Gringotts at seventeen had only been made possible due to a myriad of factors that are out now. He does not have Griphook on his side who is willing to smuggle him in, he does not have Ron and Hermione, and neither is a war going on that will ensure he won't end up in Azkaban for robbing the bank. Harry can't count on an official pardon due to the break-in playing an essential role in the vanquishing of the Dark Lord this time around. In conclusion, the cup is out of reach if it is held in Gringotts again.

Nagini poses another problem, one he's only recently been thinking about. He always assumed that she'd have become a Horcrux only after Voldemort's resurrection, due to snakes generally not living so long, but that assumption might be incorrect. Fact is that he has no guarantee. Was the snake Voldemort's companion before his downfall? Or did they (now or back then) meet during the years Voldemort has been trying to regain a body?

If the latter, it is useless to search for her now when he can concentrate on real Horcruxes. Due to frustratingly little knowledge and no way to gain more in this regard as no adult in his life wishes to speak about the infamous Dark Lord, Harry has to abandon any plans to discover more about Nagini for now.

That leaves the locket, which absorbs massive amounts of time. Only shortly after Harry's ninth birthday, on a day where Sirius and Severus are once again very busy trying to avoid each other and their own feelings, is Harry ready for a trip towards the haunting cave.

He found ways to keep the Inferi at bay, enchanted a broom to be resistant for a while to any spells that would try to make it lose its flying power, and devised a way to ensure the potion will be consumed in its entirety. He's given up on trying to find ways to circumvent the liquid nightmare. Dumbledore was the strongest wizard he'd known and a master in various branches of magic, and even he had not found another solution than drinking it. Even Voldemort himself, who'd placed the bloody thing, had needed a house-elf to drink the potion in order to empty the basin and put the locket there.

Harry now thus banks on his own willpower and will cast an Imperius curse with pre-set commands he's written on a list that should ensure he'll drink the potion completely instead of abandoning the task midway.

Saltwater hits his cheeks as he apparates on the exact same piece of jagged black rock that Dumbledore and he had once stood upon, decades ago. Harry shivers, though from memory or cold, he cannot tell. It is night, stars twinkling far above, although the moon remains sadly hidden behind a sheen of clouds. He wishes that he could have visited during a better time, when he would have been able to see more than what is being illuminated now with the tip of Voldemort's wand. Unfortunately, this is as low as the tide is going to get here, and at any other time, the narrow crevice in the rock that he'll need to swim through will be entirely below the surface. He never got the bubble-head charm down to perfection…

Not wanting to wait much longer, Harry descends the rock and plunges into the crashing waves, all the while trying to avoid looking at the jarring black cliffs that rise out of the sea like the massive teeth of an ancient monster. It is both easier and harder than he remembers: knowing a swim would be unavoidable, Harry planned ahead and wore tight clothes that don't hinder his movements. However, he is also much lighter now, thrown around far easier by the unrelenting force of the sea.

Harry tries to go by memory to find the opening as he reaches the vertical rock with difficulty. It can't be far, Dumbledore and he found it relatively quickly… Numb fingers finally curl around an edge of stone, and when he holds the wand higher, he sees the slit in the rock in which it is even darker than around him. Feeling nervous, Harry swims in, shuffling alongside slimy walls. It is slightly less claustrophobic than he recalls. The walls are still only three feet apart, but he is significantly smaller at nine than he was at sixteen.

As he heads in further, swallowed up by solid stone, he gets the feeling that time fades away. Dumbledore is not here to reassure him now. If a current catches and drowns him, none will ever find his corpse…

His feet suddenly, painfully, hit the end of the crevice, and Harry hoists himself out of the water. Strange, shouldn't there be a set of stone steps leading into the antechamber? While the rock does protrude out of the water, it is in sharp spikes that dig into the soles of his sneakers. Without looking around too much, Harry approaches the spot where he knows the doorway to be located and withdraws the shrunken items he's brought: his broom, a knife and some runestones. Inhaling deeply a few times, he sets the knife at his palm to make a cut, then places the bleeding wound against the cold, damp wall.

Nothing happens.

Confused, Harry looks around, wondering if he possibly missed the spot. It has been a long time ago. What follows are minutes of ever-growing panic as he smears blood across the antechamber, only to realise with dread that it doesn't work. More than that, there is nothing here. No magic in the air, no signs of enchantments. Back then, he had not been able to recognise whatever Dumbledore had felt, but over the years he learned very well to recognise places of magic. At one point, it had meant the difference between safety and running into Muggles.

There is no magic here. Only a cold, wet cave, hollowed out by time and water.

He became overconfident, Harry realises as he stares at the impenetrable walls with growing misery. His previous successes with the Horcruxes led him to believe that he was on the right track. He forgot once again that this is not his original timeline, and the smallest, tiniest change in details could lead to greatly varying outcomes.

Perhaps in this world, the orphanage took their trip somewhere else, or it was cancelled due to bad weather, all leading to Voldemort never finding this place. Harry sinks down on the ground and buries his face in bloodied hands. A frustrated scream echoes in the darkness. One and a half year, wasted on finding ways to overcome obstacles that don't exist. With any of the other Horcruxes, he would perhaps not have minded so much, but the locket has been one of the most challenging ones to get his hands on. All that planning, the spells he learned, the dive into an icy ocean, only to find an empty, magicless cave never even touched by Voldemort. Back at square one…

Harry sits in the dark for a while longer, tending to the wound on his hand, letting the fresh air clear his head. He needs to go at this with cold logic. Maybe this is not such a disaster as he made it out to be a minute ago. Four of six Horcruxes – hoping Nagini isn't one yet - are in his hands already… Sure, it would absolutely force Voldemort to listen to him if he could hold all of them over the man's head, but having gathered so many and proving he knows how to destroy them ought to be enough to make the Dark Lord listen. It's not as if Harry actually plans on harming any of them. In fact, it is rather reassuring to know that they are safe with him, in case Dumbledore comes across information about the soul pieces and tries to destroy them sooner. Grudgingly, Harry acknowledges that part of the reason why he feels so desperate now is because it means another piece is out of his sphere of influence. He fears for the fate of those out of his reach.

Voldemort cannot protect the Horcruxes as long as he hasn't regained a body, Dumbledore will find out about them eventually, and three teenagers had been able to find and destroy several of them. Harry wishes to protect as many as he can now his Intended is unable to.

That thought makes him pause.

Somehow, even in his own head, the wording sounded disturbingly as if he is getting comfortable with the idea of protecting Voldemort, not to mention that he actively thought of the man as the one intended for him to be with. Harry tried to distance himself from such thoughts over the years as the novelty of soul marks wore off, knowing they are not a guaranteed ticket to a perfect life. It's not as if fate rewrites itself so all soul mates end up happily together, not even as friends if their social environment does not allow it. It may have unpleasant consequences for one's magical prowess, but it's not the end of life itself. Harry remains firm in his belief that he first needs to meet the man in person and get to know him before making a decision about what to do.

Which might be difficult, as Voldemort definitely knows that Harry is his soul mate. The curse scar is too well-known to hide it, and it marked Voldemort's neck prominently.

In either case, until having a chance to talk, he needs to focus on what he can do: getting enough power over Voldemort that the Dark Lord will have no choice but to take Harry seriously. Horcruxes are one way to do that. And if everything goes according to plan, getting his hands on the Prophecy will also happen before turning eleven. All the small changes have left him constantly wondering if the wording of it is the same as last time. As much as it sounded like it from the conversations he picked up between his parents and Dumbledore, Harry doubts that it can be.

As Dumbledore said, soul mates cannot kill each other, as was made evident by Voldemort dying even without Harry having any sacrificial protection. The man likely won't try it again, not in person. Which would have led to entirely different outcomes if Harry would have gone along with trying to fulfil the prophecy by vanquishing the Dark Lord in this life. Them being intended for each other removes any chances of a duel to the death.

So, it is most unlikely that it somehow contains the line 'neither can live while the other survives'. Quite the opposite is true right now. Nonetheless, Dumbledore still advised his parents to go into hiding all the same, so whatever the prophecy says, it must be interpretable as a threat to Harry's life.

Heaving a deep sigh, he shrinks the broom and knife. At least he won't need to swim back out, the lack of magical wards makes this as good a place to apparate as the rock outside. He dries and cleans his clothes with a few whispered charms, then goes straight home.

Failing to secure the Locket leaves Harry restless for a long time, especially with hardly anything else on his hands. It is still astounding that there's no mandatory elementary education for magical children. Not that he needs it, but the days are rather long without such routine in his life. No wonder that people such as Malfoy don't have the first clue about Muggles, or anything else than a couple of beginner spells and customs they grow up with. Naturally, Sirius is not lax and has 'taught' Harry reading, writing and basic maths while Severus educates him in several theoretical magical fields, but nothing about it has any sort of structure. Harry seriously thinks he'd have had problems being educated like this in his first life. Ron and he had always laughed about Crabbe and Goyle barely being able to write. Now he knows one possible reason why.

The older he gets though, the more freedom Harry is granted as long as he manages to finish the assignments that Severus gives as general education. Already since age eight, Sirius deemed supervision unnecessary if he would leave home for only a few hours. Now, whole work shifts go by without either Sirius or Severus showing up. Harry appreciates both the amount of trust and the ability to move around that much more. It allows him to do more research on his own, going to any place that he can link to Voldemort, from Riddle house and the awful graveyard of Little Hangleton to the Chamber of Secrets – where he is very careful not to accidentally awaken the Basilisk. He is not confident that his ability to speak Parseltongue alone is enough to be able to command the beast, not to mention that its specific purpose is hunting down those of 'impure' blood.

Even if the combined absence of his godfathers would not improve Harry's own schedule, he's glad for the implications, especially since Sirius' bouts of irritation have passed and there's not been any explosions or rattling glass for a while. They might not openly tell their godson the details yet, but it's not hard for Harry to put the clues together. To his relief, everything points to them having stepped over their own pride and at the very least started spending time together again.

The very first shared dinner in over a year, during which the men keep sneaking unsubtle glances at each other and a faint hint of red colours Sirius's cheeks all evening confirms Harry's deductions are correct.

With a lighter heart now Sirius' health is improving with massive leaps, Harry can work with more ease on his own project. His godfather's progress acts as a balm to cover the growing, bitter disappointment as his own search for more Horcruxes remains fruitless.

In the month after his tenth birthday, he even visits the orphanage where Voldemort grew up in a fit of desperation, where he stands in front of the gates for a while, initially in shock. Instead of finding an abandoned or repurposed building as expected, the words 'Wool's orphanage' stands on a white plastic plaque on the iron gate, and he can see children both inside the building and on the outside premises.

It leaves Harry rather confused. Uncle Vernon complained many, many times that it was such a shame that orphanages did not exist anymore, so he could not leave Harry there with no strings attached. Instead, the words 'foster care' had been drilled into Harry as one of the horrible things that might happen to him if he were to cross a line. Yet here he stands, in front of an apparently still operational orphanage. Has the Muggle world changed so much as well? He hasn't had much of a reason to find out before…

''Hello? Do you need to come in?'' he hears and casts a quick glance at who has spoken: a small girl about his age who approaches the gate. ''You're not from here, are you?''

''No… sorry, someone I know came from this place. I wanted to see… I didn't know it still existed,'' he answers. ''Sorry to bother you.''

Then, he frowns. Something about her is familiar. Has he known this girl in his previous life? She has short, curly brown hair, quite crooked teeth and hazel eyes. Eyes that he recognises the instant he looks at her more thoroughly.

Shivers run down his spine. Before he can help himself, he is pressed against the iron bars of the fence and gasps: ''Hermione?''

The girl takes a step back, clearly surprised – and why wouldn't she be, a strange boy just drops by here and knows her name.

Harry doesn't care. Seeing the Weasleys, Neville and Luna has been great, but Hermione's absence has always been a glaring hole that nagged at him. For with everything that is different here, there was always the possibility of Hermione not being who she'd been before. He dreaded going to Hogwarts only to find out that one of his best friends was perhaps born a Muggle this time instead of being a witch. That happened to Seamus… His mother still married a Muggle after her Intended died young in a potion accident, but her son was born a Squib.

Now Hermione is in front of him, and all of Harry's worst fears are coming true. One of his two best friends in the world is standing here, on the grounds of the same orphanage that raised Tom Riddle to loathe Muggles. With her hair cut short and her clothes clearly too large, she makes a strange sight.

''Who are you?'' she asks, looking around to see if any of the other children that are playing behind them notice, but none pay them any mind. ''How do you know me?

''I'm Harry… Harry Potter,'' he whispers, feeling a note of desperation creep into his voice. All the years of shared moments return in full force. The first time he saw her on the Hogwarts express, the Troll incident, her punching Malfoy, the gruelling years of being on the run together… ''It's… it's complicated,'' he stutters, tongue dry like sandpaper. ''Just answer me this: did you ever do things that others would consider impossible? Made things float, suddenly ended up in a different place, that sort of thing?'' he desperately inquires.

He is being far too bold, but screw Ministry rules. Harry needs to know if she is a Muggle or not. If so, it will hurt, devastatingly so, but he'll get out of here and hope she'll forget all about him.

He does not yet know this Hermione. It is not the one he promised a better world. He still has the chance to banish this version of his dear friend from his heart to do what must be done.

Hermione slowly approaches to the fence, and he sees in rage that she has a couple of bruises on her lower arms. Whether inflicted by a fall, from other children or staff, he does not know, but it fuels his determination even more.

''Maybe… what's it to you?''

Harry blinks at the underlying suspicion. The Hermione he'd known had always been so cheerful, so trusting, even when caution would have done her some good.

Encouraged by her answer (of course she knows, there's no possible world where his genius friend is not a witch, or not on his side) he inquries: ''Is there a place where we can speak quietly without being watched?'' pointedly looking at the other children behind her. While they are ignoring them both, he can't go showing off magic on the street. There might be cameras around too. When she looks doubtful, he presses: ''Look, I know secrets, lots of secrets that I think you might want to know about. There is so much knowledge that is being kept from you right now. If you only hear me out somewhere in private, I can tell you everything.''

Harry surprises himself by that, but he comes to find that he's spoken the absolute truth. Already, he's latched onto the certainty that Hermione is one of his, and if anyone understands, it will be her, even this young . Hermione had only ever been a tattle-tale when thinking Harry or other people were in danger, plus she was intelligent and loyal. Even at age eleven, she'd always known better than most of them what was truly important. This Hermione is only one year younger now.

For all of his careful planning, his mind is made up in a split second. She should know. All that he cannot tell any of the adults in his life for fear of either not being taken seriously or being seen as a threat, he will be able to confide in this girl, who once was one of the few who'd stuck by him through every hardship thrown their way. At one point, he'll be able to tell Ron the same, when the boy has grown up a bit and does not see the world in typical black and white.

It is unfair of Harry to dump over forty years of knowledge on a child, he is well aware of that in the back of this mind. But this is Hermione.

''Wait here,'' she says, turning around resolutely and striding towards the entrance of the orphanage as quickly as she can in her too-large shoes. Harry does as told, even as minutes tick by slowly. When Hermione finally returns, she's locked in an argument with an older woman and pointing at Harry, who has not moved an inch from his original spot.

Rather doubtful, the woman, who reminds Harry an awful lot of McGonagall, comes closer and inspects him head to toe. Her expression softens slightly when she is done with her examination of him and apparently found nothing damning. ''Ms Granger told me that you are a distant relative of hers?''

Harry mentally makes a note of that Hermione already seems to have no problems lying to a figure of authority.

''Yes, we're cousins,'' he improvises. ''Not directly, twice-removed or something. We had a school project about heritage and such and my parents went over some old family trees with me. That's when I found out I had a cousin I knew nothing about. With a bit of research, I found she lived here.''

''And where are your parents, young man?''

Harry tries his best to look guilty and shuffles his feet. ''They said that I should not meddle in family affairs, but I couldn't help but be curious and as we also live in London, I figured it wouldn't hurt if I just took the bus… it's not like I'm far away from home.''

The woman pinches her nose and sighs. ''You should always travel with an adult, young man. No matter, you are here now. I will allow you some time to speak to your cousin, I suppose there's no harm in that.'' She opens the gate to let him in. ''One hour, then I expect the both of you in my office so I can figure out a way to get you back home. Do you know your parents' phone number?''

Harry shakes his head. It is probably believable enough that a little kid won't be able to remember such a thing. She heaves a sigh once more and mutters something under her breath before heading back inside. Hermione does not waste time, casting a suspicious glance at the other children - who have stopped their playing and are staring at them – and then drags Harry inside with her. He doesn't mind, enjoying the feel of his friends' hand in his. The last time he held the woman's hands had been right before the ritual which had sent Harry to this world. It feels eons ago.

She pushes him into a rather sparse bedroom, which gives Harry flashbacks from the memories of Voldemort's youth. Nothing has changed here, huh…

''Talk,'' she demands, although her tone holds an edge of curiosity that requires to be sated. Her thirst for knowledge is greater than this newfound wariness of strangers.

As tempting as it is to launch into all he wishes to say, a last sliver of fearful caution remains wary enough to reluctantly remind Harry that he can't entirely take her 'maybe' from before as absolute proof that she is magical. Swallowing his enthusiastic denial of that part away, he gently asks: ''Tell me, what things have you been able to do that others can't?''

Hermione once again gets that suspicious glint in her eyes, fingers nervously tapping against her thigh as she debates on what to say. ''I love reading, so sometimes as punishment, the teachers keep books out of my reach. When I concentrate really hard, they just start to move and fall down...'' she hesitantly confesses.

A rush of relief violently washes the last piece of already fragile doubt away and he starts laughing. That is so… so Hermione.

''I'm not laughing at you!'' He quickly reassures as he sees her crestfallen face. ''It's just so typical. Getting books, of course.''

The girl frowns, moving to sit on her bed and patting the spot next to her. ''You sound as if we have met before.''

He merely nods, trying to sort out his whirling thoughts. Is it better to talk or show? If her character hasn't changed too much, hard evidence is his best shot. Hagrid's words had not gotten through to him either before the man really cast magic. There is probably no subtle way of doing this. He calmly withdraws Voldemort's wand, which he always carries in a self-made holster on his back under the unassuming grey t-shirt he wears whenever visiting the Muggle world. Then, being in a bit of a nostalgic mood, he recreates Hagrid's attempt by transfiguring her nightstand into a live pig, which he instantly silences so the noise won't alert anyone. The pig does not seem to mind, being as docile as all transfigured animals - they aren't real animals after all, only look and vaguely act like them. Hermione stares at it wide-eyed, one hand clasped in front of her mouth, the other stretching out to touch the pig. She utters an 'eep' as her fingers brush across rough, hairy skin, at which Harry transfigured it back.

''I'm a wizard, Hermione. And if I'm not gravely mistaken, then you are a witch.''

When she finally removes her hand, she unexpectedly beams at him ''That explains so, so much! Is that why you know me? Does it have to do with magic?''

For all his certainty of wanting to reveal everything, it is difficult to do so in a cohesive way. Where to even start, and how much to say now, at their very first meeting. ''You won't believe how much I must tell you, honestly,'' Harry speaks quietly, staring at the opposite wall as his throat constricts painfully. ''I don't think an hour will be enough. Magic can work in strange ways, move one through time and space. I have met you before, 'Mione. You were one of my two best friends in the whole world.'' And now he really is choking up. This whole situation feels so surreal, sitting with Hermione in Voldemort's old orphanage and discussing memories only he can recall.

''We went through so much,'' he whispers while angrily blinking back tears. By Merlin, he is a grown man, this should not get to him so much! ''I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense,'' he laughs with a sniffle. Harry looks up to the ceiling to not let the tears fall, pressing both hands against his mouth.

''It's okay,'' she quietly reassures, slowly placing an arm around his shoulders and looking at Harry in that familiar, worrying way. There is a hint of comforting trust. ''Just tell me what you can, I'll make sense of it somehow. I'm good at that, connecting dots'' she proudly proclaims. Merlin, he forgot how much of a show-off she used to be as a kid.

He gives her a quick smile and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. ''I think it's best if I tell you a bit about magic first,'' he starts, thinking it unfair if he'll go off on a tangent about his old life before she even grasps the impact that magic will have on hers. He puts the wand away, instead showing off a few wandless spells, making balls of light dance on the palm of his hand. ''It is a force of nature that only very few can sense or control. Wizards and witches are just as human as non-magical people, whom we call Muggles. However, with these powers, we can shape the world around us. When a magical child turns eleven, they are allowed to go to Hogwarts, a school where you learn to hone these powers. Not only that, you'll learn to brew potions, take care of magical plants and animals and learn a whole lot of theory and history of our kind. There's a massive library too,'' he grins, even wider when seeing how her eyes lit up. She's hanging onto every word that falls from his lips.

''From that moment on, you will have access to many places in the Wizarding world. Whole villages are hidden from Muggle eyes to protect us. Since your live in the Muggle world, someone will usually only come to inform you of all this around when you turn eleven though. It's considered too dangerous for Muggle-borns to know about magic without adult mages around. Which I honestly do not disagree with after seeing all I have.''

''Then why are you here now?'' she frowns.

''Honestly, I wasn't lying about someone I know having lived here. I had no idea that I would meet you of all people here…'' His voice cracks again. ''Mione, I apologise if this is insensitive but… what happened to your parents?''

She is instantly on guard again, as if a switch has been flipped. Her arm slips from his shoulders again, leaving it cold. ''Shouldn't you know?''

Harry swallows heavily. ''It's complicated, but I'll tell you why I do not know that soon. Please, could you answer me?''

She hugs herself, eyes fixed on her feet as she mechanically and flatly explains: ''Three years ago, they died. An accident during a fishing trip at sea. I didn't have any other family left, my uncle and his wife had also gone with them. I lost everything in one day and was sent here, an orphanage for difficult children, those who can't go to foster care. I don't know what happened, truly, I cannot remember the few days after I was told of the news. I heard later that the house of the girl who watched me in my parents' absence burned down and they all think I did it.'' She bites her lip. ''I might have, too. I don't know.''

Harry carefully takes her hand in his. ''I once blew up my aunt,'' he candidly admits. ''She was badmouthing my dead parents and I lost control. I got so angry that I made her completely swell up like a balloon. I didn't even know at the start that it was me. Magic is always there even before we learn to control it, and it will lash out if we are in danger or feel strong emotions. Even if you did it, don't blame yourself.''

''Thanks, Harry,'' she whispers back. ''So… how did we meet? You said something about moving through space and time?''

Clever as always, picking up on the right details without fail, Harry thinks fondly. ''Right. While generally, magic is merely a convenience in life, it can make one perform ground-breaking feats that truly challenge the limits of possibility if you really put in effort. It can make you travel the world in a few seconds and turn back time for a while. In my case, I switched dimensions.''

She stares. ''That's… that's not possible!'' she exclaims, a flush to her face, and Harry is greatly reminded of how she'd constantly dismissed Luna's theories about creatures she had never read about in a book.

''So you would have said yesterday about turning a nightstand into a pig, I assume,'' Harry dryly counters. ''Hermione, this might be a lot to take in… but I have lived this life once already. I met you in the train to Hogwarts, we became friends and stuck together throughout our school years. We battled monsters, fought for a cause we believed in, and spent many evenings together just chatting about everything and nothing with our other friends. After that, you graduated and went to work for the Ministry. And then…'' he exhales slowly, wondering if he should reveal this much. Well, it would be pointless otherwise, she'd bug him about the reason for going back in time forever otherwise.

''There was a war, a really bad war between wizards and Muggles. It turned out that the cause we'd fought for before hadn't been the right choice. The only man who could have saved our kind was dead, and Muggles hunted us down. In a last desperate attempt, you, me, and our other best friend used a ritual to send me back in time. Unfortunately, it did not work as it should have. I was transported back into an earlier version of myself, but not in my own world. I ended up here, in a dimension that is close, but not the same as my own was. Hence me not knowing you were here, or I would have come to get you sooner. In my world, your parents were still alive, even by the time that I got sent back.''

She remains silent for the longest time with a thoughtful frown, fist propped under her chin. ''If this is all a joke… I won't forgive you.''

Harry shakes his head in denial. ''I couldn't have made this up even if I tried. There's much more to the story of course, but for one, I don't know which details are actually important right now and secondly, much is different here. People who hated each other in my first life are now partners, others who died long ago are still alive … it's tiring to keep up with all the changes and to figure out where they originate from. Oh, and then there's the marks…''

He hesitates, then cancels the concealment charm on the back of his right hand. The eye takes up much less space the more his hand has grown, staying the same size as it originally was. When he was a baby, the thing covered the entire back of his hand. ''This didn't exist in the dimension I come from. They're soul marks, and only witches and wizards have them, not Muggles. If your soulmate has already been born, they appear at birth. If not, it appears when your Intended is born instead. There's much more to it, but the general gist of is that the person who matches your mark will strengthen you and always has a mark for you in return.''

Hermione looks intently at the red eye, taking Harry's hand to study it. ''Were you born with it?''

''Yeah. My Intended is like, in their early sixties by now,'' Harry reveals. ''So by the time I was finally born, we both got our marks.''

''Sixties!'' Hermione gasps. ''Sorry, but ew!''

Harry laughs at that. ''When I moved through time, I was thirty-four,'' he explains. ''So right now, I'm forty-four myself. It's not such a stretch, considering that. It's still not completely unheard of that large age gaps happen though. As one's Intended is chosen by magic, the laws are flexible when it comes to soul mates. There's of course a limit for… well, physical contact. Age boundaries and such. And a soulmate also does not necessarily have to become your romantic partner. The key is being close to each other.''

''I don't have a mark yet,'' Hermione states, a bit disappointed.

''I wouldn't be so sure of that. The Ministry of Magic is always terrified about magic being exposed, so they keep track of all Muggleborns from birth. If a magical child is born, someone from the Obliviator squad and the Mark squad are sent out to check if they show a soul mark. If so, a concealment spell is placed on it and all witnesses have their memories wiped of that detail. Muggle-borns who don't have a mark at birth are kept a close eye on for the occasion that it appears somewhere between birth and going to Hogwarts.''

''How does that work?'' Hermione asks breathlessly. ''Memory wiping? Concealing? Soul bonds? Are there different branches of magic? Are we taught all those things at Hogwarts?''

''Erhm, yes to both of those latter questions. As for how it works, I don't think we have the time to delve into spell analysation right now, sorry. I just wanted to say that you might well have a soul mark, but it's covered up by magic. I would offer to check but…'' Harry can feel his face heat up in embarrassment. ''I don't know where it is located and soul marks can sometimes be on stupidly intimate places. One of the first spells you'll learn at Hogwarts is to cancel such charms though, so you will soon be able to do it yourself.''

''Oh... I understand. Would it at least be possible to check if there is a charm on me? Then I won't have to wonder whether I have one already or not.''

Harry inclines his head in agreement and takes the yew wand out again, casting a scanning spell that should reveal any charms, much like the way Hermione had once tried to test Voldemort's diary. The girl is enveloped in a shimmering blue that disappears after a few seconds.

''You have one. Can't tell where, but there is definitely a concealment charm on you. Congrats,'' he smiles.

''Thank you… I have so many questions for you now!'' All previous hesitance has disappeared, Hermione is practically bouncing on the bed in excitement.

Harry shrugs and offers: ''Ask away. I'll try to answer what I can in this hour. I know that for you, we've only just met, but I trust you with my life. There are very few things that I cannot tell you yet. Do remember that any questions regarding your own future might not have accurate answers, not in the least because your decisions will surely change now you have access to so much knowledge up front through me.''

She agrees, and instead of asking about their future, bombards him with questions about magic, their society, the laws that made her be put here instead of being taken into the place she belonged and many more practical details. Before long, the hour is up.

''Before I go,'' Harry hastens to say as they get up. ''There are a few things I want you to take to heart. First of all, you are the first person to whom I revealed who I really am. Even my guardians have no clue, I play a child around them as things could get overwhelmingly complicated otherwise. If you meet any other witches and wizards, pretend to not know anything. It's of vital importance, understand?''

Hermione nods in quiet seriousness.

''Good. Secondly, while you are not the first one to see my soul mark, it is usually considered a private matter, and you are also the first person I revealed to that I know who my soulmate is… keep that hushes up, too. Lastly, I am actually searching for some items. It might be a stretch to think one of them would be here but… have you ever seen either a large silver locket with inlaid emeralds or a small golden cup with the emblem of a badger in this place?''

The sudden question gets two raised eyebrows. ''If there would have been items with real emeralds or gold, I think the principal would have long sold those, they complain about funding all the time.''

''Not necessarily, they're probably hidden by magic so Muggles can't see them. Anyways, if you come across one or both of those objects, do inform me. And don't touch them.''

''Will you return here to visit me again?'' Hermione suddenly pleads, grabbing his arm as they start walking down the corridor to the office of Mrs Hays, the supervisor he met before.

''I don't know. I doubt that Mrs Hays will let me in again. I could teleport straight into your room of course, but I don't want to invade your privacy when uninvited. It could get nasty if some of your friends or staff is in your room.''

Hermione bites her lip and contemplates for a couple of seconds. ''At ten thirty in the evening,'' she resolutely tells him. ''You can always come then if it's possible for you. We're expected to be in our rooms by nine and the latest checks are until ten.''

He agrees, and a minute later they stand in Mrs Hays' office. Before the woman can even start asking questions about Harry's parents, he casts a quick Confundus charm. He does not have the time or patience to deal with finding excuses when magic works so much better. ''My parents are picking me up,'' he states clearly, and the woman blinks with slightly hazy eyes.

''Yes… yes, I understand.''

''Have a nice day.''

''That was amazing!'' Hermione whispers as they left the office again. ''That looked like those jedi mind tricks in star wars!''

Harry, who has only ever vaguely heard of star wars as something that had been banned by the Dursleys way back when, shrugs. ''Could be. Look, I do have to leave now, the charm works well if nothing is out of place, but she will get suspicious if I am still lingering around after supposedly having been picked up. I'll visit again soon, surely within the next week. I'll bring you some books to study magic if you want to.''

''That would be amazing! Harry… I don't know how to thank you. For trusting me, for telling me all of this…''

''Keeping my secrets is thanks enough,'' he says with a genuinely grateful smile. ''Oh, if you manage to get it under control, the Ministry will only start tracking your use of magic once you go to Hogwarts, as they don't expect children to really be able to do much without training. Try to hone your wandless magic as much as possible in the next year until you have a wand and then use the few months before school starts to get ahead. Trust me, it'll help.''

''How do you already have a wand? Is it your old one? From your last life?''

''No… technically, I won it in a duel,'' he vaguely side-steps the question, not wishing to elaborate on that. He is willing to tell her much, but the topic of Voldemort will be complicated, especially as he himself does not even know what course of action to take with the man once they'll meet. ''I should head out now. Coincidence or not, I am ecstatic to having found you.''

''Me too,'' she whispers, hugging him tightly. The embrace brings forth memories of far more careless times, and with it a profound joy.

At last, he is truly excited to return to Hogwarts again.

AN: Harry's emotions are going all over the place during his quest ^^''
Sorry for not having actual dialogue between Harry and his godfathers in this chap or going into more depth about their relationship, but to move the plot along I found it more important to focus on Harry's Horcrux search for that part. There'll definitely be some actual talks again soon though.

Next up: Harry goes after something else than Horcruxes for a change and his eleventh birthday brings some surprises.
(Also, Voldemort kind of slides into the picture.)
Stay tuned! Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter.
xx GeMerope