The Longest Time

Chapter One: False Starts

Hermione had spent the night after Harry disappeared awake and leaning out the window. Her dorm room was empty because Parvati had been hurt badly by a curse and was in the hospital wing, being actively nursed by Madame Pomfrey and Lavender was in the boys' dorm curled on Seamus' bed, crying her eyes out because he had died earlier that evening in her arms.

Hermione on the other hand felt empty. She hadn't been badly injured, and her boyfriend hadn't died. He'd just disappeared. Ron and Professor Lupin had had to drag her away from the hill and forcibly stop her from kicking Voldemort's dead body. But Harry was nowhere in sight. He wouldn't have run off without anyone seeing him, and he couldn't have died because his body was nowhere to be seen. A tiny voice at the back of Hermione's brain kept saying, 'he's not coming back' but a bigger one that had teamed up with a voice from her heart kept screaming back 'he's just lost, we'll find him and then everything will be ok'.

As the voices battled in her head, Hermione leaned on the windowsill and stared out at the hill next to the Quidditch pitch. Voldemort's body had been removed when the Aurors had arrived, but Hermione could almost see the green light that had hung over the spot. She stared off at the spot, unfocusing her eyes occasionally and staring beyond it, hoping that she would be able to see through the patch of earth and see where Harry had gone. Finally, after many hours of sitting motionless, Hermione could see a pale rose tint the horizon. She sat up straight, and stretched her body, which ached with the new movement. She grabbed her cloak, because the air outside had a bite to it, despite the fact that it was June. She hurried down the stairs, which lead to the common room and peeked around.

The room was empty, and silent except for the occasional pop of a log on the fire, which had been left to burn down all night long. On tiptoes, she walked slowly to the portrait hole and crept out. The castle was empty, and quiet. Filch had long since gone to bed and was not going to be a problem. The journey to the front door felt oddly familiar with so many nighttime trips to visit Hagrid, amongst many other things. Harry and Hermione had even once left at a time like this, and crept out to watch the sun rise over the lake after a long night of talking.

With that memory, Hermione's heart dropped again, but she kept moving. It took a few moments before she reached the hill and had climbed up it. When she reached the top, she wasn't sure what to do. Finally, she kneeled down and put her hand on the spot where she thought Harry must have stood. She looked closely, and she could even see the indents in the dirt of where his footprints had been.

The sun was peeking over the horizon now, and the chill in the air was starting to dissolve with the morning dew. Hermione let her cloak drop off her shoulder, and she shivered as she felt the chill air around her. But it was good, and helped her to stay awake. Images of Harry kept flooding through her mind, and she started to cry as she heard his voice in her head calling to her. She pounded the ground, and then suddenly felt a deep watery coldness on her shoulder. She pulled up her cloak, and tugged it around her more tightly, and then stared down at the dirt again. Hermione continued to whisper 'why?' to herself, and again felt the watery coldness, this time on her cheek. From the feel, it almost seemed like someone had reached out and touched her cheek the way Harry had used to do. This thought made her even sadder, so she fell down on the ground and buried her face in her arms and began to cry.

After a time, the tears stopped coming, and her breath slowed. A light breeze ran over her back and flattened her hair to her head. The gentle rhythm of the moving air soon lulled her into a sleepy state, and moments later, her eyes had closed, and Hermione Granger fell asleep for the first time in a long time.

***

Rain fell slowly on Harry's cheek. How long had he been lying there? Minutes...hours...days? He could feel his eyelids crack as he tried to open them, so he had been lying there for quite some time, but as he began to move his arms, the ground squelched beneath him. So perhaps it was mud that caked his face. His muscles ached as he began to push himself off the ground and into a sitting position. His entire body hurt and he fumbled about for his glasses which had somehow fallen off of his face. His eyes crunched with mud as he opened them to find a clean spot on his shirt to wipe his glasses. Without his specs, the world looked gray. 'That's because the world always looks gray when it's raining' he thought. But when he put his glasses back on, slightly relieved of the mud that had caked them, Harry was surprised to find that the world actually was gray. How was this possible? Worlds did not exist without color and still be visible.

Confused, he stood up slowly, trying to figure out where he was. He was still on top of a hill, the last place he remembered being, when he had killed (or at least tried to kill) Voldemort, but there were neither flowers nor grass on the ground like he remembered. He turned around and was surprised yet again to find that in the spot where Hogwarts should have been lay a grove of ancient trees. And yet this was the same familiar landscape. The cliff some ways in the distance that hung over the lake. But the lake looked different too now. Instead of the lively bright blue green with the living movement of those that inhabited it, it was clear and still, a nearly perfect shade of blue gray.

Harry took a step and looked around. This certainly was the way that Hogwarts grounds had seemed, but it was not, could not be where he was. No sun shone, so there was no bright light, but instead it was a dull cloud covered light that seemed to permeate everything and glow from the inside of all the living things that surrounded him.

Harry began walking through tall grass in the direction of where Hogsmeade would be, if there were people here in this world. Harry stopped for a moment and realized that he must be in some other dimension. But nevertheless, if the terrain were the same, people would live in the same place where Hogsmeade was. The village was located at the perfect geographical location near the lake on a vast plain. And beyond the village was the rocky outcropping and dwarf of a mountain where he had visited Sirius so often with Ron and Hermione. He stopped again. Ron and Hermione...where were they? People didn't just disappear, or maybe he was the one who had disappeared. Harry hung his head and started to sob, thinking he'd lost them forever, but he quickly stopped, raised his head, took off his glasses, and rubbed the tears out of his eyes. Only as he rubbed them, he could see something bright white in the distance. He scrambled to put his glasses back on, and as he did, he could make out tiny white houses nestled in the rocks of the mountain. Yes, he'd go there and ask for help.

Harry turned around to get one last look at the area where he had been standing, and he nearly fell down from the shock he received next. On the hill, kneeling on the ground was a white misty figure. It appeared to be of the same substance as the ghosts that had been so prevalent at Hogwarts, so Harry rushed over, eager to find a friend. But as he drew nearer, Harry became wary. This ghost had long bushy hair, and was wearing a Hogwarts cloak. He called out to the ghost, but she did not turn around or respond at all to his shouts, so as he drew near, he began to fear what might have happened. He walked around the ghost and looked into her face.

It was Hermione, and she had the saddest expression on her face. Harry reached out to touch her bare shoulder, but instead of warm flesh, he felt something similar to ice water. He pulled his hand back quickly, and then looked at her for a long time. She was kneeling on the ground, crying, and pounding the dirt. He had never seen her like this, and he wanted to hold her. Again, he reached out his had and put it on her cheek, and again felt icy coldness, and only a liquidy form, but nothing solid. Harry felt so bad, and yet she would not respond to any of his gestures, so he finally sat down and watched her.

Time passed, and the ghost Hermione eventually lay down on the ground and fell into a troubled sleep. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair like he'd done so many times before, but the thought of once again feeling the coldness that pierced his heart was enough to stop him. He sat for a long time watching her sleep, when suddenly her body was turned over. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed to still be asleep, but the undeniable fact was that her body had turned over all by itself, and she hadn't moved a muscle. Harry stood up, and watched as Hermione's ghostly body was lifted in the air, and started to move back in the direction of the ancient tree grove, and then finally disappearing from view on the edge of the woods.

Harry stood in amazement for a while. Had that been real? Had he seen Hermione's ghost, or was his imagination running away with him? Even in the magical community he had never experienced something like this, or heard tell of anything like it: people who appeared ghostlike, had cold liquid-like flesh, and who could not see or hear any of the people around them. It was stranger than anything he'd ever read about. The only people who might know what was going on would be in that village he saw. He had to go there and find out what was wrong with Hermione. Harry took one last glance at the forest of trees, and started on his journey.

***

Hermione hadn't felt anyone move her from the hill where she had fallen asleep, but she woke up in her bed. She was covered with the downy comforters and sunlight streamed in from the window. She smiled for just a moment at the sunlight and the warmth of her bed, and then remembered where she had been when she fell asleep. She rolled over and drew back the hangings from her bed and reached for the clock, which stood on the table by her bed. It was nearly 3 in the afternoon. Hermione jumped out of bed and realized that she was in her nightgown, and that someone had changed her clothes. Her cloak hung on the edge of her trunk and the clothes she had worn the previous day and up until that morning were lying on top of that. Disregarding the clothes she threw them on the floor and reached into her trunk, groping for her dressing gown. She pulled it on and tied the sash as she walked down to the common room. She had to find Ron or Ginny or...

"Oh good, you're awake," a voice came from behind her. Hermione turned around to see Ginny nestled in one of the many red velvet covered chairs in the common room. She had a fabric-covered book and a quill in her hand, and she closed the book with a thud that echoed in the room. "We wondered if you would ever get up. Good thing you finally got some rest."

Hermione was startled. "Who was worrying about me, and why should you? And who moved me, and changed me? I don't appreciate not knowing where people take me," she said in one long breath. Ginny put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and motioned for her to sit down.

"Now listen Herm, yesterday was hard for all of us, and especially for you." Ginny paused, taking a small breath, "You should have gotten some rest right away instead of what you probably did, which was stay up all night and then try to go looking for Harry," Ginny said in a gentle voice. She had been holding Hermione's hand and patting it gently, but Hermione did not like to be patronized.

"And why shouldn't I look for him? He's got to be around here somewhere." She looked desperately at Ginny who returned the gaze sadly. This single glance was enough. Hermione began to cry again, this time, all her feelings came out at once. "I can't lose him Gin! I love him so much, and we had so much planned. He just can't be gone." After that she just mumbled into Ginny's hair. Ginny had stood up to hold Hermione, and was now stroking her back and making soft cooing noises, like those a mother makes to a fussy child. Slowly, Ginny moved back towards the sofa where she sat down and Hermione lay down, her head on Ginny's lap. Ginny stroked Hermione's hair and made more comforting noises as Hermione's crying slowly turned to hiccups and sniffles. Hermione finally regained her composure, and began to look around the room. Sitting on the end table was the book Ginny had put down.

"Ginny, what's that book you were writing in?" she said, slowly sitting up and pulling her hair back, out of her face.

"Oh, this," Ginny said nonchalantly. "It's my diary. I was writing down everything that happened yesterday. I figured that someone ought to record what happened for posterity's sake. And even though I know I'll never forget what happened yesterday, I know that in twenty years when my children want to know what happened, I won't remember the details, so that's where this comes in," she said pulling the book into her lap. She fingered the embroidery on the front lovingly, and said, "You know, I've always had this need to write things down. You remember my diary in my first year? Well, even though it had Tom," and with the mention of this name, she blushed, " in it to talk to, it wasn't the fact that I could talk to him that made me feel better, it was just putting words down so that I could see them. It always made me feel so much better letting all the emotions out. You should try it sometime Hermione, and especially because of what's just happened." She looked over at Hermione and smiled. "You want to read what I wrote, don't you?"

Hermione was astonished. She had indeed been thinking that, but she never would have admitted it if Ginny hadn't guessed. She nodded her head, and surprisingly, Ginny handed her the diary.

"Don't worry, there isn't a whole lot of personal stuff in there, it's mostly writing what I've seen and observed around the school." Ginny shoved it at Hermione again. "Read it now, or I won't give you another chance. Besides, I want your opinion on what I wrote, I'm not sure I got the feeling of the air yesterday."

Hermione reluctantly took the book from Ginny's hands, and flipped to the back. There were many pages that appeared to be simply daily events, but closer to the end was a paragraph marked with a star. Hermione glanced up at Ginny one last time and began to read. The beginning was a little awkward, but it transitioned nicely into a piece that really captured the fear and anxious activity of the previous day. When Hermione was finished she shut the book, and gave Ginny a hug.

"That was really good. You should send it somewhere to get published, because there are so many people who ought to see it like that. You give the feeling of being scared, but not making it scary," Hermione said earnestly. She was handing back the book when the portrait hole opened, and Ron walked in.

"Ah, so the sleeping beauty has awaken. I should think that 10 hours would be enough." Ron sat down on the couch. "How are you? I feel lucky that I happened to be up at 6 this morning and looking out the window. You could have gotten sick out there, it's ruddy cold."

"Normally, Ron, I would be furious that you came and moved me and then took me to my room and undressed me..." Hermione began, but was cut off as Ron began to make objecting noises.

Ginny spoke up, "Actually, I was the one that put you in your nightgown. Don't worry, He didn't see you. Or he better not have. I told him to stand outside while I changed you." She said, giving Ron a glare. Ron shrugged his shoulders as if to say he in deed did not see anything. Ginny looked back at Hermione.

"As I was saying, it's my own business where I am at 6 in the morning and I don't need you following me around Ron Weasley." Hermione said, trying to sound indignant and failing utterly.

"Fine, I'm sorry I moved you. Actually I'm not. Hermione, you have to deal with this it's just not..." This time it was Ginny who cut him off, but with a glare. "OK, we won't talk about this now. Listen, if you get dressed, there's some food downstairs, and McGonagall wants to talk to us all. You're up to that, right?" Hermione nodded. "Great," Ron said, jumping up, "I'll see you both down there soon." And with that, he left the two girls on the sofa.

Hermione smoothed her dressing gown and then stood up. "I really should get dressed. I can't believe that it's 3 in the afternoon."

"Actually," Ginny said looking down at her watch, "It's 3:30, but there's no need to be technical, right?" she said with a smirk.

Hermione gave her a look and then walked back up to the dormitory. This was going to be a long day.

***

Harry sat down on a boulder in a clearing. It was hard work making his way to the white village, but he was nearly there now. Back in his old world, the trip down to Hogsmeade had been a fairly long straight path. But that way was blocked now by a thick forest that seemed excessively wild, and not traversal at all. So Harry had taken the other route to where the village was, the long path that led around the Forbidden Forest that probably hadn't been used in many years. And no wonder, because the path was rocky and steep with few places suitable for stopping to take a rest. But it wouldn't be much longer now. The village was about 2 kilometers away, but it was all uphill from here, and the light had begun to dim.

Harry stood up and shook himself to wake up. He was so close, and he couldn't rest until he had some sort of shelter. And at the top of this slope was rest, so he trudged on. Occasional trees made for something to grasp as he pulled himself up the steep hill. This was harder than any workout he had been put through before, and he was sweating through his shirt.

After much trouble, he finally reached the top and found himself in the back garden of a house that seemed empty. Draperies hung out the windows, but no wind ruffled them, and the house gave off a vague empty feeling. Harry went to the window, and peeked in, but his suspicions were confirmed. The house was severely empty, and he would have to find somewhere else to rest. Walking around the front, he saw several other houses along a road, and he followed the road to what seemed like the center of town. Even if the homes on the outskirts were abandoned, if anybody lived in the village, then they would be here somewhere.

***

The evening sun was just beginning to set as Hermione looked towards the horizon. The light was fading fast, and very soon, they would have to give up looking for Harry for the night. Hermione sighed, pulled a hanky out of a pocket and wiped her nose. This was the hardest thing she had ever done, and she couldn't cry throughout any of it.

Leaves crunched behind her, and Hermione turned around to see Ron's tall figure walking towards her. His head was lowered, and he too was sniffing his nose. She handed him her hanky and sighed again. "I guess we'll have to give up for the night and just wait for tomorrow," she said to the sun and then turned back towards Ron, "bright and early, right?" Ron handed back the hanky and then took a deep breath. The look on his face was not something Hermione could easily stand, it was both pained and sad. Hermione took another step towards him and took the hanky, but he held on to it also, so that they seemed to be in a tug of war. Ron stared down at the ground and shuffled his feet a little bit. Hermione looked at him again in disbelief and finally lowered her head so she could look in his eyes. "Right?" she said again.

Ron shook his head, and reached out to hold her. Tears came quickly, and she shook in Ron's arms. He patted her head, and said, "Dumbledore doesn't think we can find him. Nobody can just disappear like that. He didn't survive." He began to stroke her hair and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Hermione stopped crying abruptly. He couldn't be gone. She knew it in her heart, and she could almost feel his presence somewhere nearby. She pushed herself out of Ron's arms and looked him in the eyes. "No." He gave her a look of disbelief, but she continued. "I know he's out here somewhere, and I'm not giving up until I've found him. I have done much harder things, and I will find Harry. I'm not giving up."

She began to walk away, but Ron had cleared his throat. She turned around quickly and saw him getting nervous again. This wasn't like him at all, and the only thing she could think that caused it was the battle and Harry's disappearance. She gave him a look and he finally spoke up. "I know that you were accepted to Merlin Hall in Oxford, and I don't think that you should give it up. You know how few witches and wizards that they accept right out of school, and well," with this he took a deep breath, "I think you should go."

Hermione looked at him sadly. As she walked back towards him, she was able to say, "You know I can't go. Not with Harry gone. Please Ron, you of all people should understand." With her last words, she had reached him, and took his hand in her own. "I'd be too torn up. I can't do it, not now."

He looked at her again, and said, "You know, I thought it all over this morning. Fred and George want me to work in Diagon Alley with them and get Weasley's Wizard Wheezes up and running. I thought that maybe we could get a flat together somewhere in Oxford, and until I've got my apparition license, I could just take in the early train. What do you say? It'd work out perfectly, I know it would. And you wouldn't have to be alone. You'd be at school during the time I'd be at work, and then when I get home at night, you can cry on my shoulder as much as you like, and it wouldn't matter how late it was." At this, Hermione laughed a little. "Please say yes Hermione, I think it would be best for the both of us to have someone there to make sure we're OK"

Hermione threw her arms around him. "You're so good to me Ron, the best friend a girl could have."

"I'll take that as a yes unless you're just playing with me Hermione," Ron said, pulling away for a moment and looking her in the eyes.

She looked at him in the dying sunlight and saw something sparkle deep in his eyes. Her smile faded slightly at the sight of his desperation. "Yes Ron, I'll go to Merlin Hall, and we can get a flat together."

He smiled again broadly, and grabbed her arm, and they walked back to the castle together in the last haze of light left behind by the set sun.

***

Harry finally found one house that seemed to have life within it. Although there was very little sound coming from it, an occasional shadow would pass the curtain, and the drapes would move slightly. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable about barging in to someone else's home and asking for shelter, Harry began to straighten himself up. He dusted off his trousers, trying to get rid of a few dirt clods that stuck to them, and he looked down in to a puddle of water to adjust his hair. He began to spit into his hands to smooth it out, but soon began to think of Hermione. She had had such trouble trying to straighten him out for the Yule ball that year, and she had even tried using a potion that was labeled as 'guaranteed to make your hair lie flat, or your money back'. It had done nothing for his hair, which continued to stick out in all directions, but he left it that way, and smiled sadly as he thought of Hermione. This was going to be very hard.

Tugging once more at his shirt, he stepped on to the front porch, and hesitating a moment, knocked three times. Harry took a nervous breath and looked behind him. The other houses in the area were dead still, so this was his only hope.

As he heard the door creak open, his head whipped around. And when he saw who was standing in the doorway, his mouth dropped.