Rising Powers

Chapter 6: Family

Harry woke up on November first to his mother's face.

"You're still here! Does that mean you get to stay forever?" Harry shouted in joy.

"Sorry Harry, but I am only using your mother's image. I am not her," the person replied.

"What? Then who are you?" Harry slowly backed away.

"Can you not see? Do not look only with your eyes, child," she said serenely.

Harry used his special sense and realized something impossible had happened. "You're...er...the tree?"

"Close enough, Harry. I assume you will embrace your humanity and be unable to continue this conversation until you give me a name?" she teased.

"Yes! You need a name!" Harry said seriously. "Let me think..."

Hedwig and Nathair gathered around them, waiting for the bomb to drop.

"How about Willow?" Harry suggested happily.

"Willow?" She was confused. "But I'm an oak."

"Yes, but Oak sounds like the name of an old man who yells at kids for going on their lawn," Harry reasoned. The tree wasn't sure how to take that comment. "Willow is a much better name for a girl."

"But I'm a tree, not a girl. And I'm older than your grandparents."

"Just be glad he didn't start with 'Mrs. Tree,'" Nathair quipped, and Hedwig nodded sadly. Their friend just shouldn't be allowed to name anything. Everyone in the room was sure that Harry would someday have children that would be too young to realize they were about to be traumatized for life.

"Well, you look like a girl to me. And you only look about ten years older than me. Unless you can come up with another girly tree name?"

She looked very unhappy and resigned. "Great. I'm going to be known for years as Willow the Oak. That cluster of ashes across the field is going to be intolerable."

"Yay!" Harry cheered. "I'm beginning to think that maybe you guys are going to force me to come up with boring names."

"Yes, because Mr. Snake, Owly, and Willow the Oak are sooo wonderful," Nathair hissed as he crawled up Willow's leg. "If you're going to play his new mother, you better start his punishment."

"Nathair!" she scolded. "You know how those...subhumans treated him."

"Subhumans?" Harry asked. "Is that even a word?"

"It is now. They gave up their humanity a long time ago," Willow said firmly.

"Some might say they embraced it," Nathair said.

"Now, don't tell me that with all of the time you've spent with Harry that he has not convinced you that not all humans are parasites?" she said to the snake that was now a few inches away from her eyes.

"He has, actually," Nathair admitted reluctantly. "But he is highly unusual among any type of human."

"That he is." Willow looked at her new foster son proudly.

"How can you talk to him? Are you a speaker like me?" Harry asked.

"He's still an idiot, even if he is smart for a human," Nathair complained.

"Hush, you. I know for a fact that you crave his attention." If snakes could blush, Nathair would have. Willow turned back to Harry. "No, honey. I'm a dryad. I can communicate using human speech, as well as the way everything that lives does. Have a seat, and I'll tell you what's going on."

Harry sat down as she began to pace gracefully.

"One of the ways a dryad is created is when a person forms a unique connection with a tree. You saw beyond what your eyes did, and recognized that I was a living thing, not just a growing decoration. That is the first step. Second, I needed some magic to get a humanoid form. Most of this came from you, but what pushed it over the edge was when Hermione started coming too. Such happiness and positive emotions come from both of you. You are unusually happy with each other." She pulled a loose twig off of her vines. "Anyway, the final thing needed, the one which is most frequently absent, is a second person that thought of me as a living, thinking being. That, Harry, was your mother."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry. She spent much of the second half of her life as you did your first half. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was fifteen, which is where Petunia got her story for your parents. Lily stayed with Petunia and her new husband at Privet Drive, but she spent most of it in misery. Just like you, she came here and talked to me. The exact spot you first sat in, in fact. I was quite surprised.

"Because she formed such a connection with me, I was able to take her image and give you a day with her. Halloween is the time when the world of the living and the world of the dead are closest. It was the seventh Halloween since you were born, and that is a powerful combination. I was able to bring her soul to an empty body for one day before I took my place in it."

"Isn't that necromancy?" Harry asked, wary. In everything he had read, this was one of the things that was most often considered dark or forbidden.

"Yes, but only a bit." Harry was surprised by her frank answer. "Well, was I doing a good thing by letting you meet her?"

"Yes, but--"

"And was anyone hurt by it?" she asked.

"I suppose not," Harry admitted.

"And that's something you need to realize, Harry. There are no such things as 'good' or 'bad' magic. It's just a force, like fire or water. You can use it to cook food and water plants, but you can also burn down a village or drown someone. It's all about whether you want something harmful or helpful." Harry went into thought. "Now, if I wanted to bring your mother here permanently, that would be bad. She would be taken away from her family and friends that have already died, and would never be able to go back, not even when you died and joined them. It would be removing her happiness for all eternity. In the big picture, eternity is a long, long, time. A day is nothing."

Hermione opened a portal into the tree. As she stepped in and saw Willow, she assumed that Lily had not left.

"Oh! You're still here! Does that mean you'll be staying?" she asked excitedly.

"No, Hermione," Willow said sadly. "Like she said yesterday, she was just using this body for the day. Introduce us, Harry."

"Hermione, this is Willow, the dryad of this tree."

"Willow? But aren't you an--" Everyone turned to look at Harry. "Oh. Sorry you had to go through that."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," she said as Harry pouted. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

"And it's nice to finally talk to you," she replied. She blushed as she said, "I must admit, I didn't know if I believed that Harry was really talking to you."

"That's okay, Hermione. Most people wouldn't even consider it. That means you're actually pretty high up on my list of human ratings," Willow joked. They all laughed, even if Hermione did it a bit awkwardly.

"Willow was telling me that my mother used to sit in the same spot as I did, and treated her like a person, so that's why she looks like her, and that's how she was able to bring her here for the day. Apparently our magic and my connection with her is what created her."

"Harry, you're making very light of the situation," Willow interrupted. "The birth of a dryad is extremely rare. So rare, in fact, that in ancient times we were said to be the children of gods."

"Really? Wow," Hermione said. "How do you know this? Do you know a lot of things?"

"Hermione, I know everything a dryad needs to survive and keep her tree safe, and then everything I learned in the past hundred years or so of my life. Every type of being has what humans call a collective unconscious--knowledge that is given to them at birth that they need to survive," Willow explained. "Humans, however, seem to ignore this part of themselves. Just like they ignore everything that they cannot see, read about, or measure. One of the downsides of technology.

"From what I understand, it cannot be fully denied, but it can be ignored. That is why there are so many symbols that occur separately throughout human history. Before the Nazis used it, the swastika was a symbol of peace and love throughout Asia, and of evolution or progress of the human race. Ironically, the Nazis reversed it so that, in some parts of the world, it symbolized the deterioration of humanity. Then there's things like snakes being evil (No offense)," she said to Nathair, "crosses, the All-Seeing Eye or Eye of Providence. All kinds of things. These are results of your collective unconscious trying to tell you something."

"What are they trying to tell?" Hermione asked. The two humans were now very interested in the conversation.

Willow laughed. "When I become a human, I'll tell you if I figure it out. A tree has no use for those things."

"But you said you understood it all," Hermione said.

"I said I understood the needs of trees and dryads," she defended. "I have no idea what humans are thinking. Or rather, what they aren't thinking, but should."

"But you were talking about all of those things..." Harry argued.

"Only because someone used to read books while sitting under me a few decades ago. He was not magical, so he could not allow the birth of a dryad, but he was still there quite often. Once in a while, he would bring friends, and they would talk about psychology."

"So there are books about this?" Hermione asked. "We should check that out when we go to the library, Harry."

"Okay, Hermione," Harry absently agreed. "In the meantime, can you tell me what my mother was like when she was younger, Willow?"

Willow rolled her eyes as she thought of where to start. A dryad was born because of his nearly unique connection with her, and all he could think of was his mother. She wasn't sure whether she should find it cute or insulting, so she decided on cute. He did deserve it, after all.

* * *

Hermione sat in class on Tuesday, wondering where Harry was. It was unusual for him to be late. In fact, he was usually the first person in the room, including the teacher. Class had started ten minutes earlier and he still did not show up. Perhaps he was sick.

* * *

"And manifestation?" Harry asked Willow.

"Er...what's the context?" she asked.

"Symbols occur in all kinds of psychic manifestation," Harry responded. He had pronounced it 'puh-saitch-ic.'

"It's pronounced 'sai-kick,' Harry. The P is silent. And a manifestation is a physical embodiment of an idea or force. For example, a dryad is a physical manifestation of the spirit of the tree," Willow explained.

A portal opened and Hermione came in.

"Hermione? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?" Harry asked.

"I could ask you the exact same question, Harry Potter," she started. "I left during lunch so that I wouldn't miss anything. You, on the other hand, have been here all day, and it doesn't look like you are planning to go in at all."

"Well, I realized yesterday after we went to the library that I learn more on my own than I do in school. It's the same with you, except that you don't want to admit that you are smarter than the teachers. I'm learning things that are useful to me personally at a higher level than the students two years older than us. Did you know this is university-level reading?" He held up Man and His Symbols. "People ten years older than me are reading this. Sure, there are some words I don't know, but Willow can help me with that. And I don't always understand it, but I get the impression most people don't."

"You're getting it better in one day than most people do after several months, Harry," Willow agreed.

"Well, that's good, but what about the things we're supposed to be studying? You need those too," Hermione reasoned.

"I'm not going back, Hermione," Harry insisted. "Besides, the Dursleys will realize that they can get their tuition money back. I'll only have a few months left anyway."

"Well..." Hermione started slowly. "I can ask my parents if they'd be willing to pay for you to--"

"No, Hermione," he interrupted. He looked at her sadly and sighed. "I can't accept that. That offer means so much to me, and I know you're just trying to look out for me, but that's just too much. I talked this over with Willow after you left yesterday, and she agrees with me to an extent."

Hermione's head whipped over to Willow. "Is that true? You think this is a good idea? I thought you were supposed to act like a parental figure for him, not support this...this travesty of an idea of his!"

Willow looked back calmly at Hermione. "Hermione, one of your faults as a person is that you have absolute faith in a failing system. That's not too bad as faults go," she added when Hermione glared at her. "School is mostly a place to learn to take orders, sit in orderly rows, and pay absolute attention to your superior. It was made to train people for their mundane jobs, where they will use few of the skills they learned in school. Harry's destiny does not lie in a cubicle, or even a corner office on top of one of those tall metal buildings. Neither does yours, Hermione. You have a beautiful mind that is only dulled by going to school. Do you remember your first conversation with Harry?"

"Yes, I remember it well." she glared at Harry, who smiled guiltily.

"Not the witch part," Willow said. "You were talking about Shakespeare."

"Yes, how did you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Harry has always told us everything about his life, even before he knew anyone here could understand him. It was the way he compensated for not having anyone to talk to. Anyway, you were excited when he knew what your name was from."

"Well, he was the first person that knew the name, as far as I can remember."

"And you assumed he learned it from a class, but he read it on his own. Your teacher didn't even recognize your name."

"Right..." Hermione was beginning to think that she was going to lose this argument.

"From what I can tell, humanity is currently in a stale, unmoving state. Sure, there is new technology every day, but people are increasingly being valued as money-movers rather than thinkers or artists. New developments in technology are no longer new ideas; they're ways to do the same things faster or easier. Your society, and from what Lily told me, magical society, reflects that in the state of the next generation. They are mostly lazy, privileged children who think they deserve to get things handed to them for no reason. They will mostly grow up to be of little value to society. Their lives will not change much after age twenty-five or so. The only valuable in their lives will be the numbers of children, divorces, and health problems they have, and how much they are paid per year. There is no place for art or philosophy there. There are people, such as your parents, who strive to better themselves. But they are rare. Think of these things, Hermione, and tell me which system is the travesty."

Hermione was shocked. "Well, his marks--"

"Are useless numbers that show his ability to memorize inane facts, and will be not only useless, but also detrimental to his life as a wizard. As you have seen, magic thrives on the imagination, and living in an environment of conformity does not allow for good results. From what Lily said about the magical world, you and Harry are both way above the level of most adults, and meet the level of raw talent of the most powerful ones, and that will only rise. Provided you are in the right environment, of course."

Hermione admitted that she had lost. "So you're never coming back?" she asked pitifully.

"I'll still see you every day, Hermione," Harry assured her. "You'll still come, right?"

"Of course, Harry. You'll need a spell to keep me away," she said, feeling like the moment of his departure from his life she had always expected was finally coming. A single tear crawled down her cheek.

"Hey, you okay?" Harry asked. He didn't know she cared about school this much. "It's not like you'll never see me again, right?"

"Promise?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "Hey, we should make a spell that will let us always stay friends."

They looked at each other for a moment, and Willow watched in interest. "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well...I don't know really, just an idea..." he trailed off.

"Okay, let's do it. But what exactly would it do?"

Harry went into thought. "It should let us know how the other is at all times. That way, if one of us is feeling bad, we can cheer each other up."

Harry's excitement began to bleed into Hermione. "And we can send each other messages that only we can hear! That shouldn't be too hard to do."

"And we should be able to let the other see something we are looking at if we are apart. Hmm...I don't know how we would do that..."

"I've got it, Harry. We can look through the other's eyes! Like watching a TV!"

"Oh, that's good. I wish I thought of that."

"Harry, I have one more idea..." Hermione seemed hesitant.

"Well, go on, then," Harry said, thinking they had the beginnings of an excellent idea.

"Do you know about blood brothers?" she asked nervously.

"Er...it's when two boys have the same parents," Harry said.

"No. It's when two people who aren't related but think of each other as siblings cut themselves and shake hands so that they share the same blood."

"Really? You think of me as a brother?" Harry asked, and she nodded. "Well, I feel the same. I mean--that is--I think of you as sister, not a brother."

Willow watched them hug and thought they had planned something that would be good for both of them. Having only had blood for a few days herself, the only thing she knew about its use in magic was the protection that Lily gave to Harry. She figured that anything that could give them even more protection was good. She had no idea that two highly powerful and highly unqualified children with a history of abnormal magical occurrences happening to them were planning to do something unbelievably stupid and dangerous that could potentially kill both of them and destroy their souls. She smiled warmly at their excitement.

* * *

"Mum?"

Emma Granger could tell that her daughter's question would be either difficult or confusing and nonsensical, as she had been lately.

"Yes, Hermione?" she asked warily.

"Is the British educational system really just a tool for producing mindless drones who have nothing better to do with their lives than make money by doing menial tasks so they can have useless belongings and set bad examples for their children who will be even more lazy and selfish, only with none of the skill that their parents have, effectively halting the progress of human civilization indefinitely?"

Emma looked at her daughter in shock. Where was she hearing these things? "Well, I think that's taking it a bit...far. Education these days is mostly focused on getting people ready for their future jobs, and yes...I think there's less of a focus on the arts as there should be...Hermione, where did you hear that?"

"Harry's mum took him out of school and is basically home schooling him with mostly independent study. I don't think she likes human schools very much. She thinks that people should just learn everything they think is important, and she seems to like books a lot, which is unusual, since they're made out of dead and shredded trees. I didn't think she would appreciate that, I'll have to ask. I know I wouldn't like books made out of my friends' skin..." she mumbled as she wandered off to her room.

Emma was in a mild state of shock. "Human schools? Shredded trees? Books made out of people's skin? What the hell was up with that? I'm going to have to talk to...whoever Harry is staying with," she thought to herself. "Hermione's been getting weirder and weirder every day since she met Harry, but this is borderline surrealistic."

She went upstairs to Hermione's room and listened at the door.

"We're definitely going to need blood, and the full moon will be the best time for the ritual, it will be more powerful that way. I wonder if we could do it in a magical place as well. One of us could open a portal to Stonehenge or Machu Picchu..." she said to herself, as if ticking off the items on the shopping list for a dinner party she was planning.

Emma knocked on the door. "Hermione?" She heard footsteps and the door opened a crack.

"Yes Mum?" Emma almost screamed when she saw Hermione's face. Her eyes had an excitement that looked at home on a serial killer, and she was wearing a grin so wide that all of her teeth could be seen.

"Er...What are you doing, Hermione?" she asked warily, hoping her daughter wouldn't murder her.

"Me?" she asked, and her face snapped to a cute, gentle smile. "Why, I'm just helping Harry with some...homework of his. You know how good I am at--hehe--homework."

"Yes..." Emma said slowly. This was beyond enough. "Open your door right now, Hermione Jane. You have some explaining to do."

"What do you mean?" she asked nervously.

"Either open the door or come out. Now." Hermione slowly opened the door.

"What's going on with you, Hermione? Ever since you met Harry, you've been saying weird things, we hardly ever see you anymore except at night, and I have no idea where you go, except that it's with Harry and his mysterious guardian that I've never met, and who apparently doesn't like 'human' schools and has something against paper. They apparently have no connection to the outside world in their house, you came home today talking like some kind of radical, and I heard you just now talking about blood rituals and magical portals to Stonehenge. And then you come out of your room with the face of a madman! Explain. Now."

Hermione suddenly looked very guilty. "I can't."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a secret, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she explained. Her expression turned into a murderer again. One that was about to be executed. She swallowed. "How about I show you and Dad on Saturday at Harry's place for dinner?"

Emma sighed. Whatever was going on, it was something that Hermione really did not want her parents to know about. Something that she thought they would hate her for, but she was willing to show them. "Is whatever it is dangerous?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Maybe a little."

Emma sighed. "Is it illegal?"

"Not as far as I know..." she said uncertainly.

"Alright, but it better clear up a lot of things, Hermione." She kissed Hermione on the forehead and walked away.

As soon as her mother was out of sight, Hermione slammed the door, locked it, and drew up a portal.

"Harry! Problem!" she shouted.

"What? Are you alright?" he asked, starting to panic.

"My Mum knows something's up! She kept asking me what was going on with you and me, and I think she overheard me talking about our ritual!"

"Okay, well then let's explain it to her," he reasoned.

"I told her that they can come here for dinner on Saturday." Harry stared at her.

"Are you insane!? I don't think that the best way for them to find out is by going through a glowing hole in reality into a giant tree that is sitting inside of itself in a body that looks like my mother at a table that is alive. You think that's the best idea!?"

"Well, they'll certainly believe anything we say after that..." she said uncertainly.

"Oh my God..." Harry put his face in his hands.

"Willow, you're going to have to act more like a parent to Harry when they come."

"You don't think I do now?"

"YOU LET HIM DECIDE THAT HE SHOULDN'T GO TO SCHOOL ANYMORE AND LIVE IN A TREE INSTEAD!"

"Hey, what's wrong with trees? Besides, I let him decide that because it was logical and everything we talked about was true. I don't believe he's getting a proper education where he is now."

"And you're going to have to wear clothes on Saturday," Hermione demanded. "My parents might be able to take a lot of things, but a mostly naked woman is toeing the line."

"I tried to get her to, but she won't," Harry said. "I gave it up as hopeless."

"Why should I have to cover myself with uncomfortable, scratchy strangling devices? You already know what's underneath and it's not like I'm completely exposed."

"I don't know what's underneath, and I don't want to, thank you," Harry said in exaggerated disgust. "You're my mum's twin, remember?"

"Just one night," Hermione begged. "Please?"

"Fine. But nothing too constrictive. Harry conjured a blanket for me."

"It wasn't a blanket, it was modest!" Harry defended.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Harry?" she asked nervously, almost whispering.

"What is it, Hermione? You don't have to be so nervous. We're going to be blood siblings, remember?"

"If they hate me and never want to see me again, can I stay here?" she asked.

"They won't do that, Hermione." Harry declared. "They're good people. You don't have to worry about that."

Hermione looked at him with the most pained expression he had ever seen and he sighed. "If they lose their minds, you can stay here until they find them again."

"Thanks Harry." She hugged her future brother.

* * *

At 11:45 on Thursday night, a few minutes before the moon was exactly full, Hermione snuck over to Harry's tree and he opened a portal to Stonehenge. Hermione told Harry about her magical landmark idea, and Harry was all for it. Willow stayed as close to the portal as she could without actually crossing, since she couldn't leave the shade of her tree. While her tree was certainly big, its shade did not reach across the country.

They stood in the center of the ruins and Hermione got out the piece of paper they wrote the steps for the ritual on.

"Okay, so at exactly 11:48 and fifteen seconds, we start the ritual. You say something about what the ritual is supposed to do." Hermione said. "Then we each cut our palms with a silver dagger that you have conjured. Got it?"

Harry held up the dagger.

"Then we hold our hands like we are arm-wrestling and each say a bit about how much we mean to each other and that we never want to be apart. Finally, we heal the cuts on each other's hands. Did you come up with a healing spell?"

Harry looked insulted. "Of course. That was one of my first spells that was actually useful. Did you learn a healing spell?"

"Yes, Harry. It was one of my first spells, after all." She stuck her tongue out, and they both laughed as they got into position. "Twenty seconds."

Hermione stared at her watch, and eventually nodded at him.

"Okay...this ritual is to let us become family, and never drift apart. It will bind us closer than actual siblings and will let us know when the other is in danger or upset. With this, we will be able to show each other our inner most thoughts," he declared.

They each cut their hand and held them together.

"Harry, since we've met, you've been my best friend. I keep waiting for the moment that you wake up and see how bossy and bookish I am. But now I think that you understand those things about me, and accept them. I don't think that we'll ever stop being friends, and I don't think I'll regret being your sister."

Harry smiled at her. "Hermione, I know that you're bossy and a know-it-all, but that's what makes you you. The only thing I have ever really wanted in my life is family. Thank you for becoming mine. You're a wonderful person, and I certainly won't regret becoming your brother."

They separated their hands and drew a line down their sibling's cut, healing as they touched it.

"Well, I don't feel any different," Hermione said. "Do you?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really."

Then both their worlds went black.

* * *

"Severus, I cannot expel a student for actions that you let your own get away with no punishment whatsoever. Mr. Weasley will be punished, but not in any way I can imagine you deem appropriate," Dumbledore said. He was beginning to realize that his headaches happened to coincide with his two most trusted colleagues being in the same room for more than five minutes. They had been arguing for three hours now.

"I know not what you speak of, headmaster."

"Albus, I know for a fact that Marcus Flint did the same thing in his first week here. And he's a second year!" Minerva McGonagall said.

"I'm well aware of the fact, Minerva, but that doesn't change the fact that punishment for this lies with the head of house of the student involved. I hope that you won't refuse to punish him just to get even with Severus," Dumbledore said, not needing to say that it was not a suggestion. "Severus, you need to keep the Slytherin students to your own standards if you are going to be threatening those of other houses with expulsion."

"But Headmaster--" Snape's whining was interrupted by a wave of magic that almost took them off of their feet. Dumbledore did not notice the fire starting on Harry's recording instruments as they were in a closet across the castle, covered in thick blankets to drown out the sound of the alarms that had been sounding non-stop for the past several months.

"My word! What was that, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"I don't know, but it was not caused by anything at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said as he checked the instruments that were still in his office. "Nothing was recorded here."

"Hogsmeade, perhaps?" Snape suggested. He may have been a petty hypocrite, but he knew how to act in a potential crisis situation.

"No. The monitors at Hogwarts reach past the borders of Hogsmeade." Dumbledore went to the map of Britain that was hanging on the wall. He had not needed to use this one in years. "Stonehenge. It came from Stonehenge."

Everyone in the room paled at that. If that was what the wave of magic felt like after traveling over 600 kilometers, it would have been moderately incapacitating at best at the point where it started.

"Severus, check on Diagon Alley. Minerva, you're in charge whilst I am gone," he said as he took off his Hungarian Horntail slippers and put on more respectable shoes.

"Gone? Where are you going at this hour?" McGonagall asked.

"To the Ministry. They will be in a panic about this, and it's best if a clear-headed individual goes." He threw floo powder into his fireplace, said "Ministry of Magic" clearly, and hopped in.

McGonagall sighed. She should probably make sure that nobody was taking advantage of the situation and causing mischief. Gryffindor was the most likely, so she started there.

* * *

Willow was in a similar state of panic as Harry and Hermione collapsed and a wave of magic like none she had ever felt before blew her onto her back. She slowly got up and saw the two children lying unconscious on the ground.

"Harry? Hermione?" she called, to no response.

They were about five meters away from the edge of the portal. If she hurried, she could carry them one at a time before she started to feel the effects of being away from her tree. Bracing herself, she sprinted out of the portal to get Harry. She ran as fast as she could, but was already feeling weaker. She picked up Harry and ran back to the portal, stumbling as she finally reached it. She looked at herself. Her skin was wrinkled so much that she looked almost as old as she was. Her nails were yellowed and chipped, and her hair was pure white. The vines she wore as clothing were starting to brown. As she watched, everything was slowly going back to normal.

"Ughh..." she heard from behind her. Harry was beginning to stir.

"Harry, wake up!" She slapped his face lightly to bring him around.

"What?" He opened his eyes slowly. "Hermione! Where's Hermione?"

Willow pointed through the portal at Hermione. "You have to get her, Harry. I can't go out twice."

But Harry was already on his way before she even finished speaking. He picked her up, and she mumbled something about feeling funny as she started to wake up.

"Hurry back, Harry," Willow shouted to him. "We need to get out of here."

When Harry reached the portal, Willow took Hermione and Harry hurriedly closed the portal.

Just a second after the portal closed, several pops echoed throughout the stones standing in the field. A team of witches and wizards came into existence with their wands drawn, looking around as if expecting to be attacked. Deciding there was no danger, they put their wands into their holsters.

"There's nothing here, Dumbledore," a stern-looking middle-aged witch said.

"Then the persons involved have already left. Someone should look for traces of residual magic," Dumbledore said as he looked around. "Ah! A clue, Madam Bones."

Several of the people ambled over to him, where he was examining the ground.

"Blood and a silver knife," Madam Bones said. "The blood looks to be burnt or something. In any case, we won't be able to find out anything from it, except that it was left here. What about the knife? Have you ever seen a design like that before?"

"I believe this is the image that muggles have of ritual daggers," Dumbledore said. "It's also the full moon, and at Stonehenge. A stereotypical scene for a ritual of some sort. Someone here was raised by muggles but not educated in the wizarding world very well."

"So you don't think it has anything to do with the Dark Lord?" Madam Bones asked.

"Few people, especially among his followers, are aware that Voldemort was raised by Muggles." Everyone except Madam Bones was shocked. "No, this seems more like something done by underage wizards. Very strong ones. How did the residual magic scans go?"

"Well, there were two people, and they stood in the middle there," an Auror said. "They performed a very complex spell that seems to be of their invention, which caused the wave, and it apparently worked better than they intended, because they were knocked out by the wave they caused."

"Interesting. So the wave was an unintentional effect of the spell, not the goal of the spell itself?" Dumbledore asked.

"Exactly. Then a non-human, but extremely magical creature picked one of them up and carried him over there." He pointed to one of the standing stones. "The residual magic leads right up to the surface of the stone. It's as if a hole opened up in it and they walked through. Then the wizard walked back and got the second one. Then they somehow left."

"They apparated?" Madam Bones asked.

"No, it seems they simply...disappeared. No traces of any magical transportation that I have ever seen." He shrugged.

"You say there was magic used on the stone?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Yes, in the shape of an oval."

"A sort of door shape?" he asked.

The Auror cast a spell at the stone and a blue light appeared where the residual magic was. "I suppose you might call it that."

Dumbledore turned to Madam Bones. "I think the Department of Mysteries should handle this. Despite its muggle mystique, Stonehenge has magical properties that are mostly unknown to us. For all we know, it could have been used as a transportation hub of sorts long ago."

"I'll get them on it right away," Madam Bones said.

"Then I shall make my way back to Hogwarts." Madam Bones nodded at him.

After apparating to the gates of Hogwarts and making his way to his office, Snape approached him. "It seems everyone in Diagon Alley felt it, but instead of feeling burnt or drained like they should have, they reported much...odder...occurrences."

"Such as?" Dumbledore asked. This was quite a curious situation.

"They said they felt..." Snape gave him a twisted, sarcastic smile. "'An incredible presence of...love.'"

"Love?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes. Love. Everyone there was quite...eager to share their experience with me." Snape shuddered.

"How odd," Dumbledore said as he went off into thought.

* * *

Harry had immediately fallen right back to sleep and Hermione was not moving at all except to breathe. Willow was getting concerned. They had been like this for hours with no changes at all. She had no way to take Hermione back to her house and into bed, and her parents would not take kindly to her being somewhere that wasn't her bed at four in the morning. She was just about to consider something drastic when she noticed they had moved. Harry and Hermione were now holding hands. Willow thought they might be waking up.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and saw nothing but black. He could see himself when he looked down, but there was nothing else. He did, however, feel like there was something new inside of him. He considered the feeling, which reminded him of Hermione, and he remembered what happened.

"Hermione?" he called into the darkness. There was no response, although the new feeling in his mind twitched slightly. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

Like a distant echo, he heard Hermione's voice. "Harry? Where are you?"

"Hermione, I can barely hear you. And I can't see you. I can't see anything at all, actually."

"Neither can I. Keep talking. We'll just follow the sound of our voices."

"Okay." Harry began to walk in the direction he heard her last. "What do you think is happening?"

"I don't know. We've had spells not work before, but nothing like this ever happened." Hermione said as she went closer to Harry.

Eventually they found each other. The world instantly came back to them as soon as their hands touched. They were both on the floor, holding each other's hand.

"Are you two okay?" Willow asked nervously.

"Yes, we're fine," they answered together. They looked at each other in shock.

"I wonder how this will work?" Harry thought.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps it will come naturally, or we'll have to sort of practice with it," Hermione said out loud.

Harry and Willow stared at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Hermione, nobody said anything." Willow said.

"I was thinking about how it will work," Harry started. "But I didn't say it out loud."

Hermione clapped her hands. "Great! That means that we just need to work a bit on control and we'll get it working."

"We should start working on a way to keep our thoughts to ourselves," Harry thought.

Hermione looked at him and he got a confusing thought that was impossible to interpret and started to give him a headache.

"Ow! Think in words, not pain," Harry said.

"Sorry, Harry," she said out loud.

"Have either of you tried that Occlumency thing Lily told you about?" Willow asked.

"No," Harry said. "I guess we better get it down quick."

"Sounds good. Hermione, aren't you supposed to be at home and in bed?" Willow asked.

"Oh no!" Hermione looked at her watch. "It's almost 3:00! I have to go. See you later, you two."

Hermione left through a portal into her room, but Harry still felt the warm feeling he got whenever she was in the room.

* * *

Harry and Hermione spent Friday experimenting with the idea of having someone's mind inside of your own and figuring out how Occlumency worked.

"Lily said it was simply visualizing a wall around your mind," Willow said. "That shouldn't be too hard; you both have very good imaginations."

"She said this was something that is common knowledge among witches?" Hermione asked. For the first time, Harry realized that when Hermione said things like this, she did it on purpose--her own way of being a feminist while not making it seem obvious or overbearing. Harry also could feel that she really wanted him to challenge her on it, and she was simultaneously frustrated and proud of him. She had a set of very sarcastic remarks ready for anyone who did call her out. Harry never really thought about her as someone with a sense of humor. She was always either excited about learning or withdrawing so that people would not hurt her. If she said the funny things that ran through her mind out loud, she would have plenty of actual friends. The ones that saw the serious, studious Hermione would only use her for help with something and then say things behind her back. She was really just hurting herself.

"I got the impression that it was more like a specialty--like if you need to learn how, it is accessible, but most people don't even think about it," Willow said.

"So most people learn it through someone else or from a book, right?" she asked. "So there isn't really any difference between shields. That means that if we make a wall around our minds, anyone trying to get through will instantly try breaking through the wall."

"I see what you're saying, I think," Harry interjected. "If we make a huge military base that looks impossible to get inside, with all kinds of traps and barbed wire, they will either give up or waste their time trying to get past it, when really the part they want to get to is already on the outside, hidden under a bit of grass or something."

Willow smiled. Her Harry was so smart, and he had found a challenge in matching Hermione's mind.

"I was just going to suggest the hidden in plain sight bit, but the distraction is brilliant, Harry!" Hermione praised, excited. "I also think that we should have a way that we can get through each other's defenses if we have to talk. Like a secret knock on the door or something."

They both went into spell-making mode and worked on their occlumency. Harry spent his time making a horrific landscape filled with things designed to put fear into the souls of anyone that so much as glanced in his mind. He concealed the true entrance to his mind, which was also filled with more realistic traps for the people that were smart enough to figure out his trick, underneath a dirty, slightly burnt welcome mat. He resisted the urge to cackle madly as he did this.

Hermione smiled at Harry's lunacy as she created her own mindscape. Hers was a bit more subtle than Harry's. It was a somewhat inviting cabin at the far end of a field. As the mental invader approached the cabin, it slowly became farther and farther away. The person could walk for hours and only end up farther than when they started. The secret was to pick a blade of grass and whistle with it, and the house would not move.

Harry and Hermione tried to look into the other's mind and try to get past the defenses. Hermione only lasted a few seconds before she came out of his mind, crying in fear. Harry and Willow spent ten minutes calming her down, and then Harry tried breaking into Hermione's mind. Knowing that he was basically walking into a trap, he started towards the house. As he did, he noticed it getting farther away, and grinned. Hermione was brilliant. Hermione heard his thought, and the grass and sky blushed for a moment. He was in her mind, after all. He looked around for unusual features in the environment. He saw none, and left her mind.

"What's the trick?" he asked.

"You have to pick a blade of grass and whistle with it before you can go inside. Then there are some surprises in there, too." Willow saw her smile, and noted that it was almost exactly the same as the one Harry had earlier. How could children be so innocent yet so cruel at the same time? She decided not to think about it. Humans in general were puzzling to her.