A/N - Shorter chapter this time, sorry. Still trying to get back on track after being on vacation. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 35

14 July 2003

Hermione was studying the last scroll that Croaker had given her. The previous two hadn't really helped at all, although she was quite certain that one of them was an early theory on time travel. The one she was currently translating was interesting, but she hadn't found anything relevant so far. It seemed more like a travel diary than anything. And not time or dimensional travel either, just regular old holiday travel.

She paused to work out the kinks in her neck and sighed. She'd already spoken to Padma about helping when they were ready to dismantle the Universe Hopper and Padma had agreed. Hermione knew that Croaker was waiting for her to finish with the scrolls before they moved forward. He also needed to finalize his plan to unravel the spell work, although she was fairly certain he was close to doing so.

Sighing, she returned to the scroll and set the translation spell on the next paragraph. The author was currently exploring an uninhabited, remote island. She hadn't determined where, exactly, he was, as he never gave the island a name. She wasn't sure how he had even gotten there or knew of it, as the scroll hadn't explained. As the words appeared in English on the parchment next to the scroll, Hermione's eyes widened.

The island has many strange curiosities, not the least of which is the sand. Sand on an island is not exactly curious, I am aware, however, this particular sand is different. Not only the color, which is nearly black, but also the fact that it appears to grow on the sides of some of the trees, like a type o fungus. I thought, in fact, it was such when I first noticed it. However, after scraping a bit off with my knife, I realized that it was actually sand, or something with the same consistency and feel of sand.

Hermione read the paragraph again. The sand in the Universe Hopper was almost black as well. With a shaky breath, she translated the next paragraph.

And then something odd happened. I was in the same place, but also a place altogether different. I had not moved and no more than a second had passed. How was this possible? Was it some kind of vision or illusion? Had someone cast a spell without my notice? Perhaps I was dreaming. I did not feel like I was dreaming, however. I did not even remember going to sleep.

Gods, was this it? Had this wizard found the Universe Hopper sand on some unnamed island? She continued to translate and read as the words appeared on her parchment.

Once I determined that I was, in fact, awake, I took in my surroundings more fully. While the beach and jungle looked much the same, there were now dwellings. Dwellings that had not been there seconds before. They were crude huts that looked abandoned, but they were there all the same. Had I gotten turned around and wandered into another section of the jungle without realizing? Was there some plant I had touched or insect that might have bitten me, causing me to lose consciousness for a time?

I inspected the huts to find that they were most definitely uninhabited. But they obviously had occupants at one time. Where were they now? And how were these huts here when they hadn't been before? I reoriented myself based on the sun's position and a large rock on the beach. I was indeed in the same position I had been in just moments ago. I was not sure what to make of it.

Hermione sat back in her chair, stopping the translation for a moment. It sounded as if the author had indeed traveled as she had. But he'd done it with just the sand? That was disconcerting, especially if they were planning to take the Universe Hopper apart. She didn't want one of them to disappear just from handling the sand-filled disc. She would definitely need to show this to Croaker.

Hermione continued to translate the scroll. From his description, it appeared that the wizard had traveled three more times before he'd finally attributed it to the sand. Although, as far as she could tell, he still thought it was some kind of fungus and hadn't realized he'd been traveling between universes. It seemed that he thought it was some kind of hallucination or something, brought on by touching the fungus.

The thing she couldn't figure out though, beyond the fact that he'd apparently traveled by just holding the sand, was that he continually appeared in the same exact spot, just in a different world. When she'd traveled, she'd appeared wherever her other self was. It was highly unlikely that this wizard had been on that exact island, at that exact time, in all four universes. Not to mention that he'd never encountered his other self. He could have jumped into his other self's body, like she had, but that seemed unlikely given his writings.

She contemplated that for a moment. Perhaps it was the combination of the sand with all of the runes and symbols that brought her and Augustus to their other selves. Or maybe it had something to do with the sand touching the author's bare skin instead of being encased in glass. In any case, it appeared that he somehow ended up back in his own world. Or at least, the scroll didn't say anything to the contrary. It also didn't say whether he took any of the sand with him, so Hermione still had no idea how Augustus had gotten it. Nor did she know where this unnamed island was.

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Having a record of where someone could find the sand would definitely be a bad thing if it fell into the wrong hands. However, not knowing where it was meant it was possible that someone else would just stumble upon it as the author had. She wondered how many other people had done so and if they had gotten stuck in universes not their own without knowing how or why.

Sighing, Hermione gathered up her parchment and the scrolls. She needed to meet with Croaker to determine if this changed their plans any.

Hermione made her way to the lifts at the end of her day. She'd left Croaker studying her translation of the scroll. He had been glad that she'd found something but a bit irritated that this set their project back until he could determine what to do about the sand.

She hadn't heard from Harry all day and she was starting to get concerned. She hoped that the meeting with Dalton had gone all right. Harry deserved to be able to put this behind him and not just because it might be good for her as well.

As she stepped off the lift in the Atrium and began to walk towards the Floos, she saw Harry leaning against the wall across from the fountain.

"Hey," she said as she approached him.

"Hermione," he said, sounding relieved. "I was hoping I'd catch you."

"How did it go?"

Harry glanced around the Atrium. "Can we go to yours?"

"Of course."

Harry followed her to the Floo and through to her flat. When he stepped out after her, he glanced back at the fireplace. "Can you ward it?"

Hermione frowned but did as he asked. "What's going on, Harry?"

Before he answered, Harry waved his wand over her flat. Hermione knew he was casting some kind of detection spell. What he was looking for though, she had no idea.

"Sorry," he said when he finished. "I know I'm being overly paranoid, it's just, well, it's done."

"What's done?"

"We signed the divorce papers this morning. Once Dalton files them with the Ministry, it will take about a week and then, that's it." He sat down on the couch.

Hermione was actually surprised Ginny had agreed to it, given she'd skipped the first appointment and her behavior at the last one.

"Not before Ginny caused a bit of a scene though," he said.

"Scene?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "It started like it did last time, her reminiscing, bringing up old times. I basically ignored her, Dalton did as well. But when he finished the paperwork and asked her to sign, she started crying. Sobbing actually." Harry frowned. "Dalton left the room and when I tried to console her, she, well, she kissed me." He shook his head, looking irritated. "I just, I pushed her off me and told her that I was done. She tried to convince me to give her another chance, said that she knew we could work things out, but I told her no. If she didn't want to sign the papers that was fine, but I was still going forward."

He looked up at Hermione. "The thing is, I know she was just putting on an act." He looked back down at the floor. "I think she's been doing that for a while now."

Hermione sat down beside him. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"I just, sometimes, I wonder if she ever loved me at all."

He looked so miserable, Hermione just wanted to gather him into her arms and show him how much he was loved. She refrained. "She did, Harry. I know she did." It was the truth. Ginny had loved Harry, at least at the beginning. Hermione had no idea if, or when, the other woman's feelings had changed but Hermione knew Ginny had been genuine when she and Harry were married.

Harry sat silently, staring at his clasped hands. Hermione decided to change the subject as it was clear to her that he really didn't want to talk about Ginny right now.

"And the reason for the wards and the detection spells when we got here?"

Harry sighed. "I know someone followed me when I left Dalton's office. I'm sure it was a reporter. The story is going to come out soon enough, I don't need them to announce it before it's official."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you Floo from Dalton's office?"

"I just needed to take a walk. Be by myself for a bit. It's no secret Dalton is my solicitor, so I have reason to be at his office. But still, there are people I want to tell myself. I don't want them to read it in the Prophet or Witch Weekly."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "And my flat?"

Harry gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry. I mean Skeeter's an Animagus, even if she is registered now. No telling if anyone else is."

"It's fine, Harry. I understand." She took his hand. "Do you want to stay for supper?"

"I'm not very good company."

"I don't care about that," she said. "But if you'd rather be alone, I understand."

"I think I would, yeah." Harry glanced at her. "Not that I don't love spending time with you or appreciate your support. But right now, I need some time to think."

Hermione smiled. "It's fine, Harry, really. I know how you feel."

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose you do." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "We'll talk tomorrow?"

She nodded, forcing herself not to touch her cheek where his lips had just been. "Lunch?"

"Half twelve?"

"I'll meet you in the Atrium."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry held her gaze for several seconds before squeezing her hand and turning back to the fireplace. Hermione unwarded it and he stepped in, calling out for Grimmauld. He smiled at her as he disappeared.

17 July 2003

Chosen One and Harpies Star to Divorce

Hermione stared at the Prophet's headline, piece of toast halfway to her mouth. For god's sake, it hadn't even taken a week! Dalton had only filed the papers two days ago and the Prophet already had the story. Clearly, there was a leak in the Department of Magical Records. Harry was going to go spare. Gods, the Ministry was going to be a nightmare today.

Hermione set the toast back on her plate and jumped up from the table, hurrying to the Floo. Throwing in powder, she knelt and stuck her head into the fireplace, calling out for Grimmauld Place.

"Harry?" Hermione called as the kitchen came into view. Hermione heard a shuffling and then Kreacher stood in front of her. "Good morning, Kreacher. Is Harry here?"

"Master Harry has not yet come to breakfast," Kreacher replied.

Hermione bit her lip. "Do you know if he's seen the Daily Prophet yet?"

"Master Harry's newspaper is waiting for him with his breakfast."

"All right, I'm coming through, Kreacher."

She saw the House Elf's eyes narrow before she pulled her head from the fireplace. She threw in more Floo powder and then stepped into the fireplace, stepping out in the kitchen. Kreacher looked at her for a moment before he turned and went back to the cooker where he was preparing eggs.

Hermione turned to the stairs and hurried up them, intending to warn Harry about the article before he read it himself. She made her way to the second floor, stopping short when she reached Harry's bedroom door. She should have waited for him in the kitchen. He was probably in the middle of getting ready for the day. She shouldn't be-

All thought left Hermione's head as Harry's bedroom door opened and he stood in front of her in just his trousers, shirt in hand. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his naked torso. His abdominal muscles tightened as he pulled a t-shirt over his head.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned, pulling the shirt down. "What are you doing here?"

"I, erm, I," Hermione couldn't form words, apparently. It's not that she'd never seen Harry without a shirt before. She had. Plenty of times. It was different now that she knew how she felt about him though.

His brow furrowed. "You all right?"

"I, yes, I'm fine, I," she shook her head as if to clear it. Pull it together, Hermione, she admonished herself. "I'm fine."

"What are you doing here so early?"

"I wanted to tell you, well," she hesitated, knowing how upset he was going to be. "There's an article in the Prophet today."

"Okay," Harry said, questioning look on his face.

"About, well, about your divorce."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip.

"How did they," Harry's expression morphed from disbelieving to incensed. "Fuck!"

He hurried downstairs, Hermione at his heels. Tearing into the kitchen, Harry grabbed the paper that lay on the table and scowled as he read it.

Hermione realized that she'd never read it in its entirety. She'd seen the headline and then become so focused on getting to Harry, she hadn't even read more than the first couple of sentences. "Is it bad?"

"You didn't ready it?"

"I started to but then I decided it was more important to come here to make sure you were all right."

Harry stared at her for a moment, looking grateful, and then he sighed. "How the fuck did they find out this quickly?"

"A leak in the department?" Hermione suggested.

Harry's expression hardened. "I'm definitely going to find out."

"So, is it bad?"

"It's not horrible. Basically, just what it said in the divorce papers, that we'd mutually decided to file for divorce due to unreconcilable differences. There's plenty of speculation though." His lip curled in disgust as he tossed the paper to the table.

Hermione picked it up and scanned the article quickly. It was, as Harry said, rather tame for the Prophet these days. But there were hints that maybe something else had been going on. Cheating was hinted at, although neither he nor Ginny were targeted. Hermione supposed it could have been worse. Still, it shouldn't have come out like this at all.

Harry sighed and sank down in one of the kitchen chairs. He took his glasses off and scrubbed his hands down his face. "I wasn't intending on having to deal with this so soon. I knew people would find out eventually but," he trailed off shaking his head. "The Atrium is going to be a fucking nightmare."

"You should send Kingsley a Patronus."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"He can open the Floo to his office for you. You could avoid the Atrium altogether."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want-"

But Hermione cut him off. "I know that you don't like to exploit your relationship with Kingsley, but this is a small thing. You never ask him for anything, and you know he'll agree to this. You shouldn't have to deal with the press when you're just trying to get to work."

"It's not like they're going to go away," Harry grumbled. "I'm going to have to deal with them at some point."

"I know but at least take some time to decide what you're going to say."

He was silent for a few minutes. "Yeah, all right." He looked up at her. "You should come with me though."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"You think they're not going to pounce on you when they can't get to me? They know we're best friends and Ron is Ginny's brother. They don't seem to be aware that you and Ron have broken things off."

That was true. While Hermione and Ron had gotten just as much attention as Harry had directly after the war, as the years went on, that had tapered off. Harry, and by extension, Ginny, always attracted the press's attention, however, even all these years after the war was over. Hermione suspected it had more to do with the fact that Ginny encouraged it, always answering questions and sometimes giving more in-depth interviews.

Hermione and Ron had managed to keep their break-up quiet so far. She knew that it was only a matter of time before someone found out, but even when they did, she didn't think it would generate the attention that Harry's divorce was going to. Hermione didn't want to deal with the press gauntlet today any more than Harry did.

"Point taken. I've got to go home and get the rest of my things. And finish my breakfast."

Harry waved that off. "You can eat here. Kreacher, can you make a bit more?"

"Yes, Master Harry." Kreacher didn't sound all that happy to include Hermione in his breakfast preparations.

"Honestly, Harry, it's fine. I can finish at home and come back here when you're ready to go."

"Sit," Harry said, pointing to the chair opposite his. "You can help me figure out what I'm going to tell the papers."

Hermione huffed but did as he said. Inwardly, she was glad that he'd asked her. "Send your Patronus to Kingsley first."

Harry nodded and cast the charm, then gave the stag his message before sending him off. They tucked into the food Kreacher had put I front of them, discussing whether it would be better for Harry to ignore the press completely, answer a few questions as he left the Ministry for the day, or give an interview to one publication.

"Honestly, I think you should ignore them completely, but I know they won't leave you alone."

"Not to mention, I have no idea what Ginny is going to say. I'm sure they'll be in Holyhead before the end of the day."

"You know that Xeno Lovegood would put a statement in the Quibbler," Hermione said. "And he'll only print what you tell him to."

"Yeah," Harry replied. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "I just, I shouldn't have to say anything. It's no one's business but mine and Ginny's." His disgruntled look made Hermione reach across the table and take his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

He squeezed back and gave her a pained smile, then went back to his breakfast. He didn't let go of Hermione's hand.

A spectral Lynx leapt through the wall. "Of course, Harry. My Floo will be open for three minutes at 8:50. You and Hermione are welcome to use it."

Hermione glanced at her watch and ate her last bite of toast. They only had fifteen minutes. "I'd better go and get my things. I'll be back here in ten minutes."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks for coming to tell me." He squeezed her hand again. "And for the advice."

Hermione returned his smile. "Anytime, Harry." She released his hand and stood, leaning over and kissed his temple. "Be right back." And then she stepped into the Floo to travel back to her flat.

"Fucking hell," Harry said, shoving a hand through his hair as he stepped out into the sitting room of Grimmauld. He should have taken Hermione's advice and asked Kingsley to let him use his Floo after work as well. The press had been relentless, throwing question after question at Harry as he attempted to make his way to the Floos.

Hermione had been with him and had planned to come to Grimmauld also. However, after a few of the questions that reporters had lobbed at them about their relationship, she'd gone back to her own flat. No reason to give the vultures more ammunition, even if there was nothing going on between them. He hoped she'd come over later.

He sighed and stripped off his Auror robes, then sat on the couch in just his trousers and t-shirt. Harry hadn't responded to any of the questions. He wasn't about to let anyone twist anything he said or take it out of context. He'd glared, however, when one of them had asked him if he and Hermione were involved. Another one had the audacity to insinuate that Hermione was the reason he was divorcing Ginny.

Gods, he didn't need this on top of anything else. He'd spoken to Robards and asked for an internal investigation into the Department of Magical Records. Unfortunately, because the information the Department kept was public, meaning anyone could request it if they wanted to, there was nothing Robards could do. Harry supposed that a reporter could have gotten the information on their own by requesting it; he had felt like he was being followed from Dalton's office the other day, but still. It annoyed him that it came out the way it had. He was just glad their family and friends already knew.

Harry sighed again, wondering how long the press was going to camp out in the Atrium of the Ministry. Maybe he should just give someone an interview like Hermione had suggested. He really hoped she hadn't been upset about the questions about them. She had been such a support for him through all of this, even while dealing with her own break-up. He didn't want to push her away.

Not that he actually thought that would happen. Hermione had always been there for him, even when he was being a prat to her. He still cringed whenever he thought about the broom incident in third year and how he hadn't spoken to her for weeks. Yes, he'd been an immature thirteen-year-old, and he knew that Hermione didn't hold it against him but still. He'd been an idiot. And he'd let Ron influence his reaction far too much.

If Harry were honest with himself, he'd always had a bit of a crush on Hermione when they were kids. Even when he'd been enamored with Cho and then Ginny, he'd still felt a bit more than friendship for Hermione. But he'd known that Ron fancied her, and Hermione had liked him back, so Harry hadn't done anything about it. Until that night in the tent.

It had been…perfect was really the only word for it. He'd always heard that first times could be awkward and messy and quick, but it had been the furthest thing from that. Harry had wondered about it afterward and thought maybe it was because they already knew one another so well. But in the morning, Hermione had seemed, well, uncomfortable, he supposed. And she had said they didn't need to talk about it again, so they hadn't. He'd gone back to watching Ginny on the map and Hermione had gone back to pining for Ron.

He wondered, though, if they had talked about it what would have happened? Would they still have gone the ways they had? Hermione with Ron and Harry with Ginny? Or would something have blossomed between him and Hermione? Would he have wanted that then? Harry wasn't sure. He had loved Ginny, and he knew that Ron was in love with Hermione, so maybe it wouldn't have worked out then. But would it work now?

No, that was ridiculous. Hermione was his friend, and he loved her, yes, but that was it. She didn't feel anything except friendship for him either, he was sure. Besides, they'd both just gotten out of long-term relationships. He wasn't even divorced yet for fuck's sake. And he could just imagine what Ron and Ginny would have to say if Harry and Hermione got together.

Why was he even thinking this? He had to put all of this out of his head before Hermione got here. He was not about to make her feel uncomfortable when she was really his only support right now. She was his best friend and that was all.

He stood from the couch and grabbed his robes from the chair. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. And to stop having these thoughts about Hermione.