Harry Potter and the Avatars of Atlantis

Harry Potter and the Avatars of Atlantis
Chapter Four: Experimental Vortex Charms

The Order of the Phoenix was quite appalled when they discovered that Ron Weasley had used an illegal Portkey to transport himself to the Granger's house in London. Mrs. Weasley sent a Howler that berated Ron in some of the harshest terms possible, and closed with: "YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE DISGRACE...COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED, THAT PORTKEY WAS NOT EVEN REGISTERED!"

Ron was rather upset about this, as Fred and George had designed the Portkey, claiming that it would not register on any magical sensors (which, according to a cryptic note from Kingsley Shacklebolt, it hadn't. Kingsley also said that Fred and George had been inducted into the Order because of their invention, and were churning out the new Portkeys in their spare time).

He wrote back to his mother that they should get at least some of the blame, although his letter was obviously in vain when he received no replies. Hermione, meanwhile, was completely amazed at the Portkey Fred and George had designed after she learned that it emitted no magical pulses detectable by the Ministry of Magic...or anybody else. She took the old fork from Ron and began analyzing it, saying over and over that she couldn't detect any noticeable differences and that it was a stroke of genius.

For his part, Harry began thoroughly enjoying a summer for the first memorable time since he was a spectator at the Quidditch World Cup. He was able to show Ron around Muggle London with Hermione (although Harry was quite certain that an invisible member of the Order was constantly watching them).

He especially enjoyed their trip to a movie theater, where Ron shouted out advice to the characters, laughed at things such as paying taxes by filling out a form, and was quite impressed with matches

Harry and Hermione, who tried to get a little personal time during the movie were never able to capture the right moment, but despite that, Harry simply found that holding hands with Hermione, watching a movie, and sniggering at Ron's behavior while praying that they didn't get chucked out of the theater for said behavior was actually quite pleasant.

At the house, the Grangers treated Harry and Ron with politeness, and Hermione's father gave Harry a nice long talk in his study about how to treat Hermione as a lady. Harry nodded and affirmed he would...he was far too young to do most of the stuff Mr. Granger was worried about, Hermione wouldn't consent to it anyway, and he had always felt a justification that they were such things to be put aside until he had wedded a witch.

Until then, Harry could deal very well with simply snogging with Hermione.

The other thing that began to worry Harry incessantly about the lack of anything more than prickling at his scar. Undoubtedly, as Ron pointed out to him, Voldemort wanted to lie low after the outburst of publicity following Cornelius Fudge's startling announcement that Lord Voldemort was indeed back again. Nonetheless, it rather annoyed Harry. He felt a burning desire for something, anything to happen. The fact that Voldemort continued to do nothing was beginning to alarm Harry.

Since Harry was none to keen to read much into the Daily Prophet, Ron and Hermione gave him a brief summary of how the Fudge Ministry was being manhandled by the press each day over breakfast.

The Department Heads had voted a no-confidence in Minister Fudge, "for the first time since Phineas Pawtucket was kicked in the arse by his own appointed Department Heads in 1307". While this meant that Fudge was technically still the Minister of Magic, but the position was only pro tempore until elections were held throughout Britain by all wizards and witches over seventeen to decide whether or not to recall him. Ron expressed much bitterness at this, as he was not allowed a ballot, since he believed he could at least make as sensible a choice as Fred and George.

This naturally spawned another Ron and Hermione argument which Harry had to snuff out like a candle. The problem was not getting his proverbial fingers burned, and Harry believed that he had successfully done so, although he was glad that Ron wasn't allowed to do magic after he called him a "first-rate prat."

Apparently there was much jockeying for the candidacies for Minister of Magic, although the polls in the Daily Prophet (which automatically adjusted as each reader over seventeen tapped it with their wand and uttered who they wished to vote for) declared that if Dumbledore declared a candidacy, he would defeat his opposition by a margin of eighteen-to-one. Overall, the recall itself was very popular among the Wizarding community as a full two-thirds of magical Britain wanted Fudge out.

A few people had apparently voted, (but hopefully in jest) that Ludovic Bagman was an excellent choice for Minister, but the remaining non-Dumbledore votes were split between a woman who worked at the Department of Muggle Relations, a Joanne Rowling (Harry idly wondered what job she had to work with Muggles) and Amos Diggory, who was billed as the Deputy Head of the Department of Mysteries.

"Cedric's dad is running?" Ron asked inquisitively as Hermione read off the latest numbers.

"I suppose so," she answered readily, "It'd be nice to have someone who actually has witnessed Voldemort's work firsthand." A sad expression formed on her face, "It's just so horrible that I actually consider that a good thing."

Harry nodded, but he agreed with the sentiment in Hermione's comment. Having met Mr. Diggory quite awhile ago before the Quidditch World Cup, he had thought the man rather over-bearing, but perhaps that zealous drive was now centered towards unseating Voldemort from power.

He squeezed Hermione's thigh under the table and they grinned at each other. If they hadn't been a little too involved in the moment, they might have noticed that Ron's grin faltered a bit. The silent connection between Harry and Hermione practically drove his lips downwards.

But this ended immediately as Mr. Granger's booming voice echoed throughout the room as he came down wearing a blue bathrobe.

"G'morning to you," he said cheerfully, but not without giving a warning glance at Harry. Harry pretended to ignore this, as he felt that it must be normal behavior on behalf of Hermione's father. And, to be honest, it was probably hard to trust someone whom they had seen snogging his daughter behind a Mercedes.

His Mercedes.

Ron sniggered into his bacon (which Harry had gladly cooked, his chest had swelled when Hermione declared it the best she'd ever had...which at least meant three years as Dudley's personal breakfast chef hadn't gone entirely to waste), and Harry knew that he too had seen the glance Mr. Granger had given him.

"Sod off," he muttered to Ron under his breath as Hermione went over to give her father a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

This just caused Ron to giggle some more, and Harry was reminded strongly of Lavender and Parvati. If he said that, he was quite certain that Ron would quit. But what was the point? Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves...and when Harry and Hermione would occasionally sneak out of their beds and snog under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Harry was quite certain that they were both enjoying themselves.

As Harry was mulling over the lips of Hermione Granger, the woman who had given birth to Harry's current object of affection crept down the stairs, and walked into the kitchen.

Mrs. Granger was a decidedly plain-looking woman Harry noted, as she flounced with her red-hair done into a bun. He looked over her pale, freckled face and stormy gray eyes which crinkled into a smile at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry couldn't help but smile when he saw her, she seemed full of sunshine and happiness most times.

"Top of the mornin' to y'all," she said with a thick Irish brogue, "Good t'see ye this mornin'."

Harry was tempted to begin singing "Irish Eyes Are Smiling" but decided not only would that deeply insult Mrs. Granger, but he'd rather not see how Hermione reacted. One only need ask Draco Malfoy how it felt to be slapped upside the face by Hermione Elizabeth Granger.

"What are you planning to do today?" Mr. Granger asked imperiously, with another glance at Harry.

Hermione grinned, and jerked a thumb over at Harry, "Well, it's Guess Who's birthday tomorrow...so Ron and I will take turns distracting him while we buy presents for him."

Ron sniggered lightly around a mouthful of egg, "I know how you'll be distracting Harry." He gave a wicked grin and Harry felt his face move from a peachy cream to a deep scarlet. Not that he would mind if Hermione distracted him that way...actually he'd rather enjoy it...

Ron continued speaking, "But I already got Harry his present."

Hermione's eyebrows rocketed into the ceiling, "You, Ron Weasley, who had to sneak out using the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak in fifth year to buy me my Christmas gift on Christmas Eve actually got Harry his present beforehand?"

Harry snorted, remembering how frantic Ron had been as he raced out of the common room and his depressed look when he returned to the dormitories with a bottle of rather foul-smelling perfume. Hermione had been polite, declaring it was "really interesting". Harry remembered gagging from the smell, something like sulphur, as soon as Ron entered through the portrait hole.

"Yes!" Ron cried indignantly, then his eyes narrowed and a grin formed as he looked at Hermione, "And did our favorite know-it-all forget about her significant other's gift?"

Harry was quite surprised at how well Ron had taken his and Hermione's getting together. He sometimes caught Ron being a bit more cautious and aloof around the pair, but he had yet to give a detailed example of what the Weasley Rage was and how it worked. For this, Harry was rather thankful.

Hermione simply gave a grin that made Harry entirely forget the conversation, where he was, his date of birth, and middle name. Even though Hermione's smile hadn't been directed at him. His brunette beauty then put her last piece of bacon into her mouth and excused herself saying that she needed to get ready.

Harry followed his pajama-clad girlfriend with his eyes as she jogged out of the kitchen, and then turned his stare at his breakfast. He grabbed a piece of wheat toast, which Hermione's parents stocked because it had a good deal less processed sugar than any of the sourdough bread he had consumed at the Dursleys. He sniggered as he remembered that after his arrival Ron had been so impressed with the toaster that he was constantly wondering how the Muggles managed to make the bread disappear until Hermione had told him how it actually just put loads of heat on the bread. The fifteen-year old Weasley's face had gone through several shades of red and purple and he hadn't quite regained the nerve to look at the toaster.

As he used the toast to mop up the remaining bits of egg yolk, Harry turned to Ron with a grin, "So what'd you get me?"

Ron shook his head, grinning, "Can't tell ya that, mate. Wouldn't be very prudent of me, now would it?"

Harry shrugged, picked up his dishes (and Hermione's who had forgotten to put it away) and placed them in the dishwasher. After doing so, he wheeled around and headed upstairs, also to change.

After bounding up the stairs, Harry walked through the hallway and was about to open his door when he heard mutterings coming from Hermione's room: ".....Eternito....Americ....Dunne....Shimmeein...." Harry was unable to catch all of it, but wondering what was going on (and in the back of his mind, fearful of a possible Death Eater attack), he quietly moved into Hermione's room.

Standing there in her pajamas, Hermione had her wand out and was making the infinity sign in golden light as she was stating words in a language Harry had never heard before. Her brown eyes were focused intently on the lop-sided eight she was making in front of her, and they widened with disbelief as the golden light became silver and the rings of the infinity sign merged, forming an oval-shaped gray opening that was turning a brighter and brighter color, almost a platinum, as it increased in volume. A loud rushing wind swept through the house, rustling papers from the desk and launching Hermione's bedspread in the air. Hermione didn't even notice, but continued muttering words in that ancient language, "Infinita....Vortexius!"

The bedspread smacked Harry at a very hard speed, and Hermione's door began to open and close at odd intervals, banging off its hinges. Hermione's digital clock on her nightstand began, slowly at first, but then with more and more frequency, running the numbers backward and forward with excessive speed.

The bedspread was flung off Harry and it began headed for the hole, which was now glowing green around the edges. Then, without warning, the wind stopped, the platinum hole receded into nothingness, the door slammed and everything flying fell to the ground as gravity yanked it downwards.

This included the bedspread, which fell on Harry again, and he tried to get out from under it, but knocked his glasses off his nose and his feet were shortly there after entangled. His attempt to stand up resulted in him toppling over, and thwacking his forehead on the wood-paneled floor of Hermione's bedroom.

"Yow!" he cried, and soon, he felt urgent hands pulling the bedspread off of him. Hermione stood over him, a worried expression on her countenance and she handed him his glasses. Harry looked at Hermione as if she had just grown a second head. As he slowly got up and put his glasses on, he sputtered for a few seconds until he finally found his voice.

"What? W-hat was t-t-that?" he gestured at the now normal piece of space where a gaping silver hole had once been.

Hermione looked over, as if nothing had been there. She cursed loudly, and muttered "I almost had it that time!" She then looked at Harry and waved her hand expansively around the room. "Just an experiment in temporal displacement, Harry."

Harry had no idea what temporal displacement was, and to be quite honest, he felt that had no real bearing on what was going on. He looked around Hermione's now excessively messy room, half expecting a Ministry of Magic owl to come in and give Hermione a letter telling her she was being officially warned for breaking the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery.

Hermione followed his gaze out the window and chuckled, "The Ministry won't send me a letter Harry."

He looked into her cinnamon brown eyes and waited for her to elaborate, but instead she shut her mouth and put her wand on her nightstand and began to fiddle with her clock, which put the time at nineteen-forty-five and was flashing constantly.

"Well?"

Hermione played with the buttons on the top of her clock, and looked at Harry with a raised left eyebrow, "Well what?"

Harry was exasperated. "Why won't the Ministry send you a letter?"

Hermione sighed, opened up her sock drawer and rummaged through it, until she pulled out a piece of parchment with several symbols Harry vaguely knew where Ancient Runes and some Arithmancy equations. Harry and Ron had elected to take Divination and have a free period rather then succumb to the two extra classes. Hermione on the other hand, attacked her studies with as much vigor as possible, if not more than was possible, and had taken both the courses and skipped on Divination claiming Professor Trelawney was "an old fraud".

"This explains it how?" he held his hands open in an 'I-don't-understand' position.

Hermione smiled sweetly, "I've been working on a theory in my spare time in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy the past two years on temporal displacement."

Seeing Harry's blank stare, she added, "Time travel, Harry."

Harry sat down in a very comfortable armchair next to the back wall that had miraculously not been tipped over when the rushing hurricane caused by Hermione's time-travel spell and sat down. He looked into Hermione's eyes and wondered if she wouldn't mind sitting in his lap right now...

"Professor Vector has been extremely interested in my theories and gave me permission to work on them this summer," she continued, "That's the farthest I've gotten along on since I started. Used to just get a bit of a silver mist, kind of like a failed Patronus."

Harry nodded, "But don't wizards already have Time-Turners to deal with those things?"

Hermione grinned, and took on the role of professor. Harry honestly wouldn't be surprised if some day she was the bloody Headmistress of Hogwarts, and he listened attentively. "Yes Harry, but Time-Turners do not work well when going into the future, or setting a specific place in the past to go to. If my reading of the old Atlantean runes is correct, then it is extremely likely that doing this Time Vortex Charm would allow someone to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. It could be powerfully useful in the fight against Voldemort," she answered and her smile widened as she looked at Harry's face. Harry believed he had garnered about one word in four, but enough to understand the generalities of what she was talking about.

"Thank you Professor Granger," Harry said serenely, "I suppose you'll be using the Vortex to take four or five extra advanced classes this year?"

Hermione picked up a pillow that had fallen off her bed and soundly smacked him with it in the face. "Hey!" he shouted "Watch the glasses!"

Hermione giggled and pulled the pillow away from Harry and tossed it on the floor. Harry looked at her, even with her hair an even more complete mess than usual, and without any make-up (not that Hermione ever wore any anyway), Harry couldn't imagine having seen a more beautiful girl in his life, and wondered why he had ever considered Hermione as just a friend, or as a surrogate sister.

Had Harry had a highly developed sense of irony, he would have likely found his last thought quite funny as he spent most of his time denying that said thoughts even existed just a few weeks ago.

"Now," Hermione grinned, "why don't you leave me to get changed, and fix yourself up."

Harry nodded and left her room and as he walked down towards his door, he noticed Ron was biting into a strip of greasy bacon as he sauntered up the stairs. Ron gave Harry an odd look and peaked over his shoulder at the mess in Hermione's room as she closed the door. Ron then gave his best friend a queer look, one that clearly said, "How did that happen, and what part did you play in it?"

Harry just shook his head, "Hermione will explain." With that, he headed into room and changed. The first week he had been at the Granger's, once they realized the horribly minute selection of clothing he had, they had bought him a nice selection of T-shirts and jeans. Harry promised to pay them back after he went to Diagon Alley and Gringotts, telling them he could converts Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts into Muggle pounds and pence.

Mr. Granger would hear nothing of the sort, and his wife joshed that "It's a dowry for our daughter ye know."

Harry had blushed beet-red, but as he put on a green T-shirt and blue jeans, he was happy that he had nice clothes to wear when he was strolling down the streets of London with his hand entwined with Hermione's, laughing at some joke or another Ron had just come up with.

As he came downstairs, he found that Ron and Hermione had already finished getting ready, which meant that Ron must have been quite eager to learn what made Hermione's room look like a tornado hit it. They were standing by the door, Hermione articulating on exactly how the Time Vortex Charm worked and it's possible impact on the Voldemort War.

Ron was quite impressed that Hermione was allowed to use magic during the holidays before she was seventeen, even if al it was a charm to rip a portal between the third and fourth dimensions. Harry was a little jealous that she was allowed to do that himself. But having to work out complex readings of ancient runes and Arithmancy was not exactly high of list of things that Harry fancied much either.

"Ready to go?" he asked as he arrived at the door, planting a kiss on Hermione's cheek.

She nodded, and Harry grinned, "So you forgot about my birthday, did you?"

Hermione giggled and Ron laughed uproariously. "No," she said, "But I was certain Ron had." At this, Ron crossed his arms and gave them both a look that eerily mirrored Molly Weasley's.

Harry opened the door for Hermione and walked hand-in-hand with her off the porch and onto the sidewalk. Ron closed the door behind them and gave a small sigh, "It'll never be the same again."
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After a raucous day of laughter and enjoying the sights of London, the two wizards and one witch returned to the Granger's. They ate a hearty meal of roast duck (without dessert, as the Granger's were dentists) and salad, and enjoyed a good deal of conversation. If only, Harry thought, Hermione's dad wouldn't look at me with such meaning in his eyes.

When they had finished and done the dishes. Harry dried, Hermione washed, and Ron cracked an endless amount of husband and wife jokes that made both of them look down at their toes with embarrassment more than snigger.

Although it did appear that Ron was rather enjoying himself.

As soon as they had finished the chore, Harry chased Ron upstairs and managed to dive and catch him right at the top of the staircase and had him in a half nelson before Hermione came up, her eyebrows raised and a grin upon her countenance.

"Quite the mature ones are we?"

Ron kicked Harry in the knee and Harry rolled over. Ron tried to use this to get on top of him to finally achieve victory, but Harry just pushed him off and the red-headed teenager ended up crashing into Hermione's ankles. She wavered for a second and tried to regain her balance, but fell into the banister and rolled down the stairs screaming curses at Ron and Harry for their childishness.

Harry naturally raced down after her as swiftly as was humanly possible, as well as Ron. Hermione's parents, who had been watching television in the living room came to her aid. Hermione seemed to have sustained little damage, the benefit of being a witch Harry supposed, remembering how Neville's Great Uncle Algie had dropped him from a window and he had bounced on the road.

Hermione looked at Ron with disdain, and Harry with a little bit of anger in her eyes, but it ended as soon as she realized the pained look on Harry's face. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," he blurted out and he helped her up, "That's all my fault." He was far too embarrassed to look into her eyes and looked down hoping she wouldn't give him one of those looks that almost, but not quite, put McGonagall to shame.

She nodded, accepting his apology without words. Ron fumbled his hands around in his pockets for awhile before he also gave his "I'm sorry." This was also accepted and Hermione was able to get her parents to leave. Harry sighed, glad that the awkward situation was over.

They were led up the steps by her, almost as if she was a disciplinarian, and Ron gave Harry a 'we're-in-for-it' look. Instead of berating them as soon as they were out of earshot of her parents, however, Hermione invited them to come into her room.

"All right," she said, "now have we learned our lesson about being immature gits?"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione with an odd mixture of horror and admiration, "Have you ever considered that perhaps you're related to McGonagall? I'm quite certain that you could possibly be her daughter."

Hermione bristled noticeably at this, and Harry decided that it was probably a good time for him to step in, before the situation possibly got out of hand.

"Hermione." He raised a hand, but made certain that his gaze was softened and she could see that he meant no insult.

It was rather funny to Harry know that he thought about it, but he had never realized just how alluring Hermione Granger was she turned on her professor mode. And although he did want to let her know that he and Ron were sorry, despite that it wasn't really their fault; he quickly decided that he would not be able to convince of this with mere words. Actions had to be taken.

So he walked over to her and kissed her gently on the lips. He leaned over to her ear and whispered, "We're sorry, honestly. I didn't mean that and you know it."

She nodded and kissed him on cheek, and told him that he should probably go to his room and sleep...it was a big day tomorrow.

Harry did so.

Neither one of them really noticed that Ron's face had fallen to pieces when Harry had kissed Hermione, completely leaving him out of the loop and had walked out seething something terrible. And of course, Harry wouldn't notice, since the Granger's had two guestrooms.

Tomorrow certainly would be a big day.