A/N: Hi there guys, I can't believe I'm finally posting this. It's been 6 years in the making. I started BPR in Jan 2019, right after Trading Places was finished, and it took so long to write, I was starting to believe I may give up and this moment would never happen. But it's October 2024, and BPR is finally complete at 56 chapters! Or almost complete, anyway, still polishing that epilogue. :P Anyway, I shall be posting probably biweekly until it's all up. If anyone out there is still interested in the story of these characters, which have been part of my life for about two decades now, then I hope you'll come along for the ride.
This story comes with several trigger warnings, which may contain spoilers. But if you need them, they are: violence/graphic descriptions of violence, pregnancy loss, cancer, and minor character death. I think that's all...
Huge thanks to MournfulSeverity, Farbautidottir, and RealityGlitch for all the betaing. And for holding my hand on this for the last like six years. And to everyone else who has helped with this in any way. I appreciate you all more than you know.
Prologue:
.
He was drowning in red.
It was bleeding across his vision, as far as the eye could see. Farther. It was cascading down in waterfalls, crashing down in waves. He spun around, blinking it out of his eyes. When he glanced up, he saw it floating down from the scarlet sky in pieces. Like clusters of grapes.
Iron.
The smell of it burned through his nose, sliced through his whole being. Welled up in a fury that threatened to overwhelm him.
And then it was gone. He was lost in black. Buried, he knew, in a place so deep the light would never reach. The red was only an afterimage, glowing across his retinas. But then the lightdidreach, breaking through the darkness like thunder. The world shook. Colors danced across the night.
Pale blue bled to brightest green, and then to the softest pink, before it remembered the shade of crimson — before it dotted the sky in droves.
The very world was crying. The sound stabbed at him, burning across his heart. Pain blossomed. His own tears were sliding down his cheeks, blazing like trails of fire.
The crimson dots across the sky began to wink out, engulfed in shades of amber so vivid it was like poison melting the night. And as the darkness reigned once more, he felt something deep inside awaken, reaching forward, rearing to strike.
.
Harry jerked awake, sweat trailing down his face, and whipped his head to gaze around the dark and silent room. His heart was pounding painfully against his ribcage, and he was breathing hard, as if he had just run for several miles. And yet the foray into the dark had left him cold. Even the sweat running down his brow was freezing, inching down the side of his face in icy tendrils. He reached up, carelessly wiping it away.
The metallic smell lingered still, mixing with the sweat and the fear, layering upon his senses in a mosaic of sensations he couldn't decipher. The pain was gone, its trace only a shadow; the imagery as meaningless as fog.
He couldn't reconcile this dream with anything he had seen before. There was no basis for comparison. No pool from which to draw understanding. For the first time in a long time, Harry Potter thought that perhaps a dream was simply that. A dream.
He allowed himself to sag back onto his pillow, drawing the blanket up to his chin as Snowy readjusted his position by his feet.
A dream.
He drifted off to sleep, her warm shape at his back a reassuring presence.
A dream, and nothing more.
He couldn't get lost in a nightmare. Not now, when she had finally led them from the dark.
Chapter One: The Breaking
.
February 6, 2009, Wizard London
.
"So as you can see, interdimensional travel is not only feasible, but it's even possible within the capabilities of magic today," Ella finished, her amplified voice ringing loudly across the large room. She smiled and glanced around at the sea of faces staring up at her. There were at least a hundred students seated around the lecture hall, most dressed in traditional wizarding wear, and all of them were looking up at her, captivated. She let the silence stretch on as she looked out at them all, her large brown eyes scanning the faces before her. She was in her element. She was prouder of her work than she could put into words. She was so nauseous, that she reckoned she would vomit right there, in front of them all. She took a deep breath.
"Any questions?" she added weakly.
Hands shot up around the hall. She glanced around, her eyes alighting on a dark girl with braided hair somewhere in the middle of the student cluster.
"Yes, Samantha?" she said.
"Professor, that was really interesting!" Samantha said, her voice ringing clearly through the room. "Your work is paving the way for the future. Will anyone be able to access a Travel Stone once testing's complete?"
"I daresay it will be quite heavily regulated by the Ministry," Ella said, smiling. "Interdimensional travel isn't something one should attempt without just cause."
Samantha nodded, and Ella glanced around the room again, this time zeroing in on a bespectacled boy with curly hair near the front, whose hand was waving in the air so enthusiastically, it reminded her of her first attempts at playing Hermione. "Colton?"
"What kind of reasons would be considered just cause, Professor?"
"Well." She paused, contemplating the question as she took another deep, steadying breath. "You're all aware of my story, of course"— most of her audience nodded enthusiastically and she saw grins break out across several faces —"so if I wasn't the principal researcher, in my case connecting with family across worlds would be an acceptable reason. This is what inspired the creation of the Travel Stone — to connect our worlds and create a pathway between.
"But, another valid reason would, of course, be exploration. If exploring other worlds is of interest to you, I would definitely advise looking into a career with the Ministry's Department of Magical Transportation. But of course, I don't work for the Ministry — just with them at times — so I can hardly take applications." She smiled.
The hall burst into scattered laughs, over which she nevertheless heard a male voice — which she was pretty sure belonged to a boy called Victor Burke — carelessly say, "As if the Ministry would haveyou, Hughes!"
Colton flushed furiously, and Ella let out a sigh as she wondered whether she should get involved. She wasn't entirely sure Colton would appreciate her interceding on his behalf in front of an audience of a hundred others, but at the same time, the bullying made her livid, and she was beyond aggravated to see it still occurring at university level.
"The Department of Magical Transportation is a pretty wonderful place, and they're always looking for new blood." Ella managed a smile. "Some of you guys are graduating at the end of this year, and if you're considering a career with the Ministry, Transportation's definitely an exciting place to start. I'd be happy to write any of you a recommendation."Except you, Victor, you arsehole.
The students clapped, and someone cried, "Thanks, Professor Potter!"
Then someone else muttered, "Buncha Hufflepuffs…"
Ella sighed again, wondering if her head would actually explode. Most of her students seemed to be incredibly bright and kind, but yet some of them… She inwardly shook her head again. She didn't know if she was up for this today.Bloody hell, it had been nearly two weeks of this, how much longer could this go on?She would have to talk to Hermione, maybe she knew of some charm that might help. That witch knew everything. Of course if she did that, she and Harry would have to tell them the news. But maybe it was time…
"One more question, guys," she said, pushing down her unceasing nausea. She glanced around the room again, her eyes landing on Siggy, who was sitting in the front row, gazing at her with wide blue eyes. Her hand hovered slightly, as if she wanted to ask a question, but was too shy to do so.
"Siggy?" Ella asked.
The girl seemed a bit shocked that Ella had called on her, and it took her several moments to formulate her question. Ella waited patiently, inhaling slowly through her nose.
"Er— yes," Siggy said, her voice slightly choked with nerves. Ella leaned forward so as to hear her better. "Professor Potter, you said that you were able to create the Travel Stone after you channeled your magic. Is this something anyone can do?"
"Good question," Ella said. "Not everyone can. It's something my particular type of magic was suited to, and I've been able to work with Professor Albus Dumbledore to properly channel it and contain it within the form of the Travel Stone, which can now be used by others. It's likely not something I alone can do, but itissomething your magic has to be compatible with."
"And Professor Dumbledore's magic isn't compatible?" Siggy asked.
"No. But he knew enough about the theory so that we could work on it together. It isn't something either him or I could've done alone."
She glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. Just after six.Thank God.
"I'm afraid that's all the time we have, guys," she said, swinging her wand in a graceful arc so that a stack of parchments rose up from her bag and floated to the students throughout the hall. "Please read this study on parallel world positioning and outline it briefly for our discussion next week. Have a good weekend!"
There was a great clattering as everyone collected the floating parchments and scrambled to rush out of the hall, their groans and conversations melting into a cacophony. Ella walked to the stairs at the side of the stage, where she had stored her things, and then sat down on the edge, taking another deep breath as her stomach bounced unpleasantly again. It was going to be a long evening.
"Are you all right, Professor?"
She glanced up to see that Siggy had paused and was staring at her with concern.
"I'm great, thanks for asking," Ella said. She hoped the girl would move on, but Siggy lingered, still observing her with interest.
"That was a really great lecture," she said. "I still can't believe you were able to channel the magic to come back here… you know, to the wizarding world, when you were stuck on the other side. It's so inspiring, isn't it?It is!"
"It wasn't something I had very much control over at the time, to be honest with you," Ella admitted, while Siggy looked on with unwavering interest. "I learned how to do all that later."
"But still," Siggy pressed, "youwereable to do it, Professor! Is it true"— she lowered her voice conspiratorially —"that you did it for love?"
Ella blushed slightly. Her stomach gave another uncomfortable twinge, and she momentarily remembered the stunned look on Harry's face when she, Daniyel, and Robert had alighted in Hogsmeade in the middle of a March snowfall. She still remembered the feeling, nearly ten years ago now, of falling once again into Harry's arms and realizing that she had found her way back to him at last… It had changed the entire course of her life. She couldn't imagine things any differently.
"As your professor, I'm afraid I can't answer that," she said stoically, though she thought she rather ruined the effect with her inability to repress the smile that had bloomed at the memory. She was only twenty-nine after all; far too young to be a professor. Hell, she wasn't a real professor anyway — the London Magical Institute had just asked her to guest-teach this one class, on account of her work with interdimensional travel. And as much as she enjoyed it, she thought she mostly likely wouldn't be returning next year, considering the circumstances.
"Right," Siggy said, smiling. "I just think it's so inspirational. You wanted to do it, for love, and for magic, and you did!"
"If you try hard enough, you'll find you can do nearly anything," Ella said, instilling her one bit of inspirational professorly wisdom. "Don't be afraid to take risks and speak up — you're cleverer than half the students here. I've got to run, I'm afraid. Good night, Siggy."
Ella smiled at her student, grabbed her bag, and slid off the stage, making her way out of the now-empty lecture hall. She trudged to the Apparition point just off the lobby, turned on the spot, vanished, and reappeared one painful lung-squeezing moment later in the entryway of the flat she shared with Harry. She barely had time to register some kind of immense clattering sound coming from the bedroom before she slid weakly down onto the entrance mat and sat there, face in her hands, until Snowy appeared to paw at her. The kneazle-cat meowed faintly, and a moment later she heard hurried footsteps, and then Harry appeared at her side.
"El! Are you all right?" He crouched down beside her, and she felt his hand brush her arm.
"Fine," she mumbled. "Totally fine. I just need a minute."
"Still feeling ill?"
She chanced a glance at him. He looked so incredibly guilty that she actually felt a little bad. Which was ridiculous.
"Only every single moment," she said wryly. "But they say it's worth it. What are you doing in there?"
Harry started. "Er — well, all right, I know you didn't want to do anything yet, but I may have got one of those, you know… things."
"Things?"She raised her eyebrows, trying to figure out what on earth he was on about.
"I mean, er,cribs. I got a crib."
"Harry, are you serious?" She sighed and made to get up off the floor. He stood up hurriedly and pulled her to her feet. "It's way too early for that. We haven't even been to see the Healer yet!"
"I know," he said quickly. "Sorry. Ron and I were walking past this shop during lunch and—"
"Did you tell Ron?!"
Harry looked even guiltier than before. Ella sighed again. "Harry James Potter," she said. "I'm going to murder you.I will.Now show me this crib. It better be adorable."
"It is," Harry said quickly, grinning and looking slightly relieved. "And I've been reading up about it, actually, it's good that you feel so ill, because that means that the pregnancy hormone is strong and—"
"Shut it, Harry."
"Right, sorry."
She followed him into the bedroom, where pieces of wood and instructions were splayed out everywhere, entirely covering the bed, which she had been looking forward to throwing herself onto. She sighed.
"Can't you just magic it together?"
"I tried. But it turns out you have to actually know where it all goes first."
"You don't say…"
She sat down on the edge of the bed and fingered a piece of wooden railing. It did look fairly adorable. Harry, who was looking at her with barely concealed excitement, was also fairly adorable, so she decided to give him a pass.
"It looks like it'll be nice," she said, grinning. "Assuming you figure out how to build it."
"Don't worry," Harry said, "I've sorted out worse. Are you still up for visiting your parents tonight?"
"I suppose. It's Dad's birthday and all." She really wasn't, but they had put it off for too long already. She had made the first appointment with Healer Hannah Abbott for the following Monday at St. Mungo's, and she fully intended on telling her parents the news beforehand — it would be the perfect present for Dad. The thought of telling him made her grin in spite of herself. It was just that she was exhausted, and trekking out to Muggle London didn't sound at all appealing. But still, Traveling was more pleasant than Apparating, at least.
She reached into her pocket and took out the Travel Stone, turning it over in her hand. It was small and smooth; slightly warm in her palm, and pale blue in color. Harry glanced at it.
"Is that it, then?" he asked.
She nodded. "We just finished them this morning. The backup's at the Ministry. Transportation's had a look, and we're leaving it with Mysteries for further testing; they're collaborating on the project. Mind you, I'm not supposed to talk about that, but marital privilege and all that."
"Have you got one for Rob and Dan as well?"
She grinned. "Gosh, Harry, who do you think I am?"
She withdrew another Stone from her pocket, this one a pale green, and cradled both in her palm. "This one's Dan's. I gave Rob his this morning."
"Did your color code them or something?" Harry sounded amused.
"Course." She grinned. "Rob's is orange, and the official one's yellow. Ministry doesn't actually know about the others. You know how they are, they want to impose all sorts of regulations, and that's fine — for everyone else, of course. But we need them.Ineed them."
"Of course," Harry said. "It'll be a relief for Dan and Rob to not have to rely on you every time they want to visit home. Especially now."
"Exactly."
"Ella… you're honestly amazing. You should be so proud of this."
Ella nodded silently, letting a smile graze her face. She was, truth be told, incredibly proud. It had taken years: hours upon hours of brainstorming with Dumbledore, countless late nights, endless experiments, to be able to channel her magic — her ability to Travel — into the confines of the Stone. It was quite incredible to look down at the tiny pale shape within her palm — the culmination of years of work — and realize that she had achieved it at last: made simple interdimensional travel possible. She couldn't wait to give Daniyel his Stone; she was sure he would be quite as pleased as Robert had been.
She would have almost said she didn't know what to do with herself now that this project, which had been such a huge part of her life, was coming to an end… except that the timing had worked out so perfectly, she couldn't have planned it better if she had tried. Now she stood at the foot of another great adventure; one that she and Harry would take together. She was beyond excited. She would have happily shouted about it from all the rooftops, if she wasn't so bloody nauseous all the time.
"Should we get going then?" Harry asked.
"I suppose. You do know they'll make us stay over, don't you?"
Harry grinned and grabbed a packed duffel bag from the floor. "Of course. Snowy's been fed, and I've packed everything. Who do you thinkIam?"
She laughed and forced herself to her feet, holding out her hand. The Stone lay flat on her palm. "A really well-behaved husband. Give me your hand."
Harry did, clasping her hand with the Stone between them. His fingers felt warm against hers and she smiled in spite of herself. It had been nearly ten years since she had come back, and at times she still couldn't believe that she and Harry were walking through this life together.
Ella closed her eyes, focusing on the energy encased within the Stone, and on the image of her parents' front door. She felt the energy of the Stone pulse through her, mixing with her own magic, and then, abruptly, shefelther surroundings change. The stuffiness of the flat vanished, to be replaced by cool late summer air.
She opened her eyes to see the familiar brown front door and tan siding of her childhood home. She and Harry had alighted on her front stoop, in the falling dusk of evening. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had seen them, but the street appeared quite deserted. She was never entirely sure how to perfectly pick out her landing spot. She looked over at Harry, who seemed to be a tad nervous for the first time that night, now that they were moments away from finally seeing her parents. She grinned, thinking back to their very first introduction. Somehow, she suspected, tonight would be just as exciting.
"Well, here goes nothing," she said, and reached out to ring the bell.
Ron Weasley sat at his desk, scribbling blankly at the parchment before him. It was late evening — night almost. The cubicles had slowly emptied around him over the past several hours as he wrote continually, somehow making very little progress on his report. Harry had bounced — quite literally bounced — out of the office nearly four hours ago, fully intending to build the crib they had found during lunch before Ella returned home from her class at the Magical Institute.
"Don't break anything, mate," Ron had advised him.
"I feel pretty confident in my furniture building abilities. I helped Sirius put together a whole TV stand last year. From that IKEA place."
"Sirius likes that Muggle madhouse?" Ron had asked, bemused.
"He fancies the meatballs." Harry grinned. "Night! Say hi to Hermione for us."
"Right, sure."
But he didn't say hi to Hermione. He hadn't actually seen Hermione since the previous night — ever since their big, giant argument, which had initially seemed to be about one thing, but was actually about something else entirely, and frustrated him to no end because the evening had started out perfect. Unfortunately, by the time it had ended, Ron had found himself sleeping on the couch, again, and wondering if he and Hermione would ever figure out how to get it right.
She had been gone when he awoke, and he hadn't seen her when he popped up to the first floor earlier that morning, so Ron wasn't entirely sure whether she was actually in the office or not. So, he couldn't exactly pass on Harry's greetings to Hermione, as his best mate had asked. He also couldn't seem to confide in Harry about any of these issues, especially when Harry was practically bursting with excitement about the baby he and Ella were finally expecting.
The news had made Ron smile with genuine happiness for his best friend, who he knew was excited beyond words, and yet had filled him with a profound sense of sadness as he thought, again, of Hermione, and wondered if they would ever progress to the point of having a family. Currently, it seemed like she didn't want to see him at all. He sighed, momentarily wondering if he was just trying to drain water from a sinking ship.Was it supposed to be this hard?It had been so long since they'd exchanged those first words of love, on the edge of the lake at Hogwarts at the end of seventh year. The whole world had been bursting with promise then. But now…
He sighed, pressing his palms to his face and digging them into his eyeballs until little stars appeared before his eyes. He didn't want to let Hermione go quite yet. Bloody hell, he was still as in love with her as he had been since seventh year.Since fourth year.If she wanted him to be more supportive of her career — to pick up more slack around the flat, he could do that, couldn't he? He would go drop by the Burrow and he'd ask Mum how to make that thing, with the vegetables and the bangers, and he'd cook Hermione dinner. And he'd clean the flat, too. And ask if they could have a talk and discuss this reasonably. Hermione loved talks.Yes, that could do it.
He jumped to his feet, the report forgotten — he'd finish it Monday — and reached for his cloak. What did the report matter anyway, when it felt like his entire marriage was being held together by breaking threads? It was a bit past eight; hopefully Mum and Dad had just finished dinner. It was a good time to pop by.
He had barely slipped on the cloak when an enormous BANG shook the entire building. Caught off guard, Ron stumbled to the floor, where he was promptly buried in an avalanche of parchments, photographs, and other minutiae that had slid off his desk.
He raised his head as the dust settled, staring around.What the hell had just happened?!
There was another loud banging sound — muffled, as if there were several floors between him and the source of the blast. He could feel the floor vibrating beneath him.Downstairs then.He climbed unsteadily to his feet, his hand reaching for his wand as his mind whirled into action.Had someone attacked the Ministry?His eyes darted around, but all the cubicles in the Auror office were deserted. He took off, pushing through the heavy oak doors as his feet carried him toward the main hallway, which housed the lifts. There was another muffled bang, and the floor shook beneath him. He stumbled into the wall, pushed off it, and ran down the hall.
He wasn't quite sure what was happening, or who was still at the office. The Ministry usually started to empty out by five o'clock, but plenty of departments kept late hours. He would have to go down, that was all. He skidded to a halt before the lifts and froze.Hermione. Was she upstairs? She hadn't been there before. Surely she wasn't still in the building. Should he go up and look? There was another loud bang as he wavered before the empty grates of the lifts, and he distinctly heard the sounds of screams drifting up from below.
Ron swore. He couldn't waste time running upstairs. Hermione probably wasn't there. And if she was… well the disturbance was clearly downstairs — it felt like it must be at least at the Atrium level. He had taken a bloody oath...
"Expecto Patronum!"he gasped, and a glowing crup burst forth from his wand. "Find Hermione! Go!"
The Patronus vanished, and he conjured another, this time sending the alarm to Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror office. He was on the verge of sending a third one to Harry, when he remembered Harry was in Muggle London with Ella. Unreachable. Shit! He'd have to trust that Robards would put together a response team immediately. There were several Aurors on-call. He needed to get down to the ground floor and get eyes on the situation. Taking a chance, he turned on the spot and Disapparated, reappearing moments later at the edge of the Atrium. Like he suspected, the wards preventing Apparition within the Ministry had broken down in the blast.
The Atrium was dim and smoky.
He raised his wand as he glanced around the vast hall. There was dust everywhere, and the floor was coated with chunks of stone and shards of glass. Looking up, he could see that the glass windows of several of the offices overlooking the Atrium had shattered. The base of the fountain in the center of the hall had cracked nearly in half, and water was seeping out across the floor. The indistinct shapes of several people were stumbling around. Someone was sobbing. As he watched, more witches and wizards Apparated into the hall, seemingly from upstairs, and several of them ran for the fireplaces, which were burning in the dimness and occasionally flaring green. That was good — they would get the word out more quickly.
There was a woman laying on the floor several feet away, and Ron hurried in her direction. He recognized her as Sylvia Fawcett from the Floo Network Authority Office, and he crouched over her, checking for a pulse. She had been a year above him in Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw. She was breathing, but her arm was bleeding rather badly. There was broken glass scattered all around her, and he deduced that she had been knocked down as she'd tried to escape the Atrium.
"Confervo Volnus!"He jabbed his wand at her arm, watching the skin knit together. He wasn't much of a healer — Harry and Hermione had always been better at these types of spells — but it would stop the bleeding, at least. The Healers at St. Mungo's could take it from there.
"Ron!"
He heard his name as he was casting a Shield Charm around Sylvia, and he whirled around to see Susan Bones stumble out of the staircase that led down to the lower levels. The entire right side of her head was coated in blood, and her robes were filthy. She lurched in his direction and he ran towards her, grabbing hold of her arm before she collapsed.
"Susan! What's happened?"
"I was down in the courtrooms," she gasped. "Sorting records. There was a blast. Part of the ceiling collapsed."
She was trembling violently, and he lowered her to the floor, where she leaned against the wall, staring around with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
"You did good," he said calmly. "Listen, Susan, look at me." She did, her hands still shaking. She took a deep breath but didn't speak. "It's going to be all right. Help is coming. I need you to stay here until they do, all right? I'm going to cast a Shield Charm around you, just in case anything else happens, but I need to see what's going on. The other Aurors and Healers will be here any moment. Can you do that?"
She nodded, her expression still one of shock, and he threw the shield around her quickly as he climbed back to his feet and took off for the stairs. The sound of his name made him pause. He glanced back. Susan was looking at him now, and he thought he could sense a trace of fear in her eyes.
"Ron… It came from the Department of Mysteries."
Shit.
He felt his blood run cold.