Primrose Paradigms

Chapter the Second

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There had been times in Hermione's life that, looking back on, she was amazed that had actually happened. The battle in the Department of Mysteries, for one. For months afterwards, she'd wake up from reliving it in her nightmares, thinking it was all just a dream. That entire summer she'd struggled with the knowledge that Sirius was gone, she just couldn't accept it. And she hadn't even known Sirius all that well--she didn't want to imagine what those months had been like for Harry.

Now was another one of those times, only instead of looking back on it, she felt like she was separate from herself. Like she'd risen up out of her body and was watching herself hold a perfectly normal conversation with a dead man.

Who was in the middle of a sentence, coincidentally. "...very rare spell, but I've heard of it being performed. Mostly it's used for the extraction of magical power."

The blond woman, who had properly introduced herself as Melody Northrup-Black--Hermione didn't want to think about the ramifications of that last name at the moment--spoke up. "Yes, both their magical reserves were very low, though--uh, Miss Granger's healed quickly."

Hermione spoke up. "I was trained in the study of antediluvianism," she said, and Dumbledore nodded.

"I myself, studied that very subject, though I never quite mastered it as well as you obviously have," he said.

Hermione nodded awkwardly, and the room fell silent for a minute. "Why would Kane use that particular ritual for this purpose, though? What did he have to gain by sending us here?" she mused to herself.

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm sure that he had his reasons, as many wizards do," he said. "Why don't you tell me exactly what you remember from the attack?"

Hermione sighed. "Harry and I were...uh, walking home, I suppose, on a Muggle street. About eight Legion members attacked us, and were later joined by reinforcements. They surrounded us and held us at wand point long enough for Kane to do the ritual."

Melody's brow furrowed. "Legion members?"

"Salazar's Legion," Hermione clarified. "They're kind of a renegade group of dark wizards that launch random attacks on Muggles and Muggleborns, plus wizards that are in favor of Muggle rights, wizards that marry Muggles, that sort of thing."

Melody looked sickened. "And the Ministry doesn't do anything?" she asked.

Hermione cracked an ironic smile. "The Ministry doesn't do much good these days," she said. "The Order of the Phoenix has apprehended most of the Legion, we thought, but judging by the numbers that Harry and I saw last night, there are more recruits than we knew about."

Dumbledore nodded, looking deep in thought. "This Midas Kane, he's the leader?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said. "Harry called for backup before Kane showed up, though, so I imagine that he's in custody. Or at least I hope he's in custody..." Hermione trailed off. "Uh, Professor, I'm afraid I don't understand," she said, changing the subject. "This, um...world," she said, for lack of a better term, "seems very different than mine. For instance, from what I remember, the school wasn't open in 1997," she said.

Dumbledore puckered his brow, making his bushy eyebrows seem to quiver. "Hogwarts was closed?"

"Well...yes," Hermione said reluctantly. "At the end of the 1996 term, the school was shut down due to the war. It became more of a safe haven, for anyone who needed protection."

"War?" Melody asked worriedly. "There's no war--here, at least, though."

Dumbledore nodded. "The Wizarding world has enjoyed a long stretch of peace. The last war we had the unfortunate experience of fighting was back in the days of Grindelwald."

Melody muttered, "Thank Merlin," underneath her breath.

Hermione frowned. "What about Lord Voldemort?"

"Who's that?" Melody asked. "There's no Lord by that name that I know of. Sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar of any family by that name."

Hermione shook her head. "No, not a family lord, he was a Dark Lord," she said. Off their continued confused expressions. "He was...well, he was a very powerful, very evil wizard. He changed his name to the Dark Lord Voldemort after he left school--he killed a lot of people," she continued. Melody looked slightly appalled. "He's dead now, but for a long time, all of Wizarding society was scared to death of him. In fact, many were afraid to speak his name. He was known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Hermione sighed. "After his death, his followers who weren't dead or in Azkaban all joined the Legion. That's why the Ministry hasn't done much about them. By now, I almost think that they're just too scared."

Dumbledore frowned. "Grindelwald instilled a similar sort of terror during his reign in the early twentieth century," he said.

Hermione's eyes were dark; she was trying to suppress old memories. "He was more powerful than Grindelwald, Professor." She shook her head to clear it. "He must have died as a child here; or maybe his mother..." she trailed off, lost in contemplation. Seized by a sudden thought, Hermione spoke up again. "Professor, do you know anyone by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Yes, he's our Potions master."

Hermione choked slightly, slightly horrified at the prospect of Lord Voldemort in daily contact with children. "Oh," she managed to get out. The implications of a world without You-Know-Who began to coalesce in Hermione's mind and her eyes widened. So many people who must be alive here...images of Ron Weasley and Sirius Black stood out prominently in Hermione's mind's eye.

Seems Melody was talking. "...wasn't serious. It was quite large, but shallow, so I was able to heal it quickly," she said.

"Are you talking about Harry?" Hermione asked.

Melody looked over at her and faltered. "Well, um...yes," she stuttered.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione placidly. "Miss Granger, am I correct to assume that your companion's name is Harry Potter, as in the son of Lily and James Potter?"

Hermione nodded warily. They were alive here, she'd assume. "Yes."

Dumbledore nodded, thinking. "We'll have to inform the Order of what's happened, of course. I think I'll tell Lily and James separately, so as to soften the blow, a bit."

Hermione's suspicions were confirmed by that statement and she paled slightly, already dreading the conversation that she'd have to have with Harry. "Sir, I have to warn you that Harry might react a bit more...violently, when he wakes up," she said. "He's more of a fighter than I am."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, of course. I imagine that you're still tired, also, you must return to the Hospital Wing for rest. Maybe your presence will help to calm Mr. Potter down upon his awakening. Meanwhile, I'll call a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and we can discuss the possibilities of returning you to your home dimension," Dumbledore said.

Hermione nodded dumbly, and got up to follow Melody out of the office. She figured she was in a bit of shock, therefore she only felt a small stab of pain when Dumbledore smiled benevolently at her like he had so many times before.

Following the blonde nurse down the steps behind the gargoyle and along the corridor, Hermione took the time to form a sort of plan. She knew that Harry would wake up and immediately would curse first and ask questions later, so she had to be at his bedside when he awoke.

And then there was the subject of Harry's parents. How the bloody hell was she supposed to explain this to him? Not only Lily and James Potter, but if this world was peaceful, then her parents must be alive also, along with Ron and Sirius and well, Dumbledore, obviously...

Hermione shook her head, feeling the familiar weight of apprehension coalesce in the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know if she could handle seeing them all again, knowing that they weren't real, that she was going to leave and go back to her world where they were all just dead.

The pair walked down the corridors in awkward silence, the nurse being oblivious to Hermione's troubled thoughts. Finally, if to dispel the tension if nothing else, Melody spoke up. "So, Miss Granger, um...how old are you exactly?"

Startled, Hermione looked up at her. "I'm twenty-four," she said quietly.

Melody nodded, feeling very awkward. "Oh," she said. "Hermione Granger--well, I mean the one from, ahem, here, obviously--well, she's sixteen," she said.

Hermione nodded, wondering why she felt inclined to share that particular piece of information. "I'd assumed as much."

Melody nodded again, feeling stupid. What else was she supposed to say to someone in this sort of situation? She supposed she should be used to dealing with strange occurrences by now, but even for the Wizarding world, this was just...weird.

Walking down the corridors in awkward silence, the pair were soon lost in their separate thoughts.

"Melody!" a deep, rich voice called out, making Melody's heart jump and Hermione's sink. She knew that voice...

"Sirius," Melody said, stopping her stride and turning to greet her husband. Reaching up to give him a warm hug, she sighed, taking comfort in the familiarity of his scent and touch. Things were so confusing, she felt like she was spinning out of control. It felt good to see someone familiar.

"Hey, love," she heard him say. "I've been looking all over for you since this morning."

"Mmm," she said, not really hearing what he was saying. Pulling back, Melody smiled at Sirius, who wore an expression of bemusement.

"Happy to see me?" Sirius asked, laughing. Melody nodded.

Hermione watched the couple converse, the stabbing pain in her heart intensifying. Realizing that her hands were shaking visibly, she quickly tucked them into the pockets of her sweater. This was Sirius, living, breathing, laughing. It was so strange. Looking the man over a second time, Hermione realized that there were differences in this Sirius contrary to the Sirius that she'd known. This one had longer hair, pulled back into a smooth ponytail at the base of his neck. His whole demeanor was just more open than she remembered, she thought as she watched him smile broadly, eyes crinkling at the corners, and swing a friendly arm around Melody. Probably a side effect of a happy life, Hermione thought, a little bitterly. He was also wearing teacher's robes, which scared Hermione just a bit, to be honest.

"Who is this?" Sirius asked when he caught sight of Hermione. She jumped slightly and tilted her head down so that her hair covered her features.

Melody was brought back to reality with a jolt. "Oh, that's...well, it's kind of delicate. Dumbledore will fill you in later."

Sirius raised an appraising eyebrow. "Delicate, eh?" Melody gave him a look and he chuckled, holding up his hands. "Fine, fine. I can see where I'm not wanted."

Melody smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll come visit after my shift."

Shooting a charming smile in his wife's direction, Sirius nodded and walked jauntily off, whistling underneath his breath.

Melody straightened her robes and looked over at Hermione sheepishly. "Sorry about that," she said. "I get kind of...carried away when he's around."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled shakily. "I know the feeling."

00

Lily Potter sat in Dumbledore's office, fidgeting nervously. Even though she'd been teaching here for going on two years now, every time that the headmaster called her into his office, she still felt like a sixth year in for a scolding.

She shot a look at her husband, who was sitting in the chair next to her, tapping his leg impatiently. Lily's eye twitched.

"Would you stop that?" she hissed. "It's annoying."

James rolled his eyes, but stopped the action. Lily sighed. She didn't mean to act so...well, bitchy, but lately everything James did had been getting on her nerves. Lil, he's always been on your nerves, she heard her inner-Sirius say, but ignored it.

This was different, she rationalized. Before, when they were young, their arguments had been in fun, their jabs based in playfulness and banter. But slowly, as the years wore on, more and more venom had leeched into their insults, until they were having full-fledged screaming matches almost every week, long grueling fights that left Lily's throat hoarse and her cheeks stained with tears.

The arguments were based mostly on Sirius, of all things. James was jealous of the close friendship that Lily held with the tall, dark Animagus. Lily repeatedly reassured him, but after a while the questions and accusations grew tiresome and she didn't even acknowledge the snide under the breath one-liners that James muttered every time Sirius gave her a friendly hug or a supporting kiss on the cheek.

It got to be so bad that Lily couldn't take it anymore and finally just packed a few bags and moved out. Deciding to try their hand at a separation, she moved into the teacher's quarters at Hogwarts, leaving James and Godric's Hollow behind. Dumbledore had been generous and understanding enough to give her a job as an apprentice to Professor Flitwick. She had thanked him profusely, but Dumbledore had just smiled benignly and waved off her apology, commenting that Flitwick really did need some help anyway, due to the rather large first-year class, and she was really the one helping him, after all.

That had been six months ago, and Lily had managed to avoid seeing James until now, ignoring owls and Floo calls, and abruptly changing the subject whenever Trixie, Melody or Sirius brought up the subject.

An awkward silence filled the small office, while Lily pretended not to sneak looks at James. Awkwardness had never been a problem before, Lily realized, and felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes.

The door opened then, and the couple both turned to look. Albus Dumbledore, resplendent in neon purple robes, walked into the room, gracing both with a warm, if tense smile. "James, Lily. Nice to see you both."

The couple smiled tense smiles, and James' nervous energy finally erupted. "Dumbledore, what's this about? You said something about Harry?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "James," she hissed in annoyance.

Dumbledore raised a hand to assuage her. "Quite all right," he said. "I'm sure you've both been very anxious." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "This is about Harry, yes, but I'm afraid it's not what you think."

Lily frowned. "What?"

"Well, I've never encountered anything like this before, so I'm not clear on the details, you see," Dumbledore replied. "But are you familiar with the Bubble universe theories?"

Lily nodded, her mind taking over her mouth. "The theory that there are thousands of universe on top of each other, each with small differences."

Dumbledore nodded. "Until today, that was just a theory," he said cryptically.

Lily's face paled. She knew what that meant. James, however, was slower on the uptake. "What does this have to do with Harry?" James questioned anxiously.

Dumbledore sighed. "It seems that the Harry Potter of one of those multiverses has been transported here, along with Hermione Granger."

Silence. Then, from James, "huh?"

Lily sighed. "Think of it like..." Lily struggled for words for a moment. "Like a Quidditch game!" she said triumphantly. "Okay, our world is a Quidditch game. There are thousands, millions even, other...Quidditch games going on at the same time as ours. What Dumbledore is saying is that Harry Potter from a different Quidditch game has been transferred to our pitch."

James nodded blankly. "Oh...oh!" His face lit up in realization.

"Get it now?" Lily asked.

James nodded, his face bright. "So you're saying that I have two sons right now?"

Dumbledore, his mouth twitching, shook his head. "Not technically. Keep in mind that he has lived a completely different life than that of your son, James," Dumbledore warned. "Do not put unheeded expectations on him."

James nodded blankly, and Lily's heart dropped. She knew a lot of things, one of those things being her husband, and when he got that look in his eye, she knew that nothing good would come of it. She could virtually map out his train of thought right now. She could practically see the visions of practical jokes and Quidditch one-on-twos that danced through his head. Foreboding sunk into Lily's stomach, settling in like lead. James plus one Harry was bad enough, but James plus two? Morgana forbid...

"When can we see him?" James asked.

"Nothing is for sure yet, I'm afraid," Dumbledore replied. "His magical energy was depleted quite a bit during his...journey here. He hasn't yet awoken."

James waved off the explanation with a flick of his hand. "Well, surely Poppy can do something to wake him up sooner."

Lily rolled her eyes, but Dumbledore just regarded James with a calm eye. "You would do well to remember that this man is not the Harry that you know," Dumbledore said firmly. "Besides which, his magical energy is not the only obstacle standing in the way of his consciousness. He and Miss Granger were attacked directly prior to being sent here."

Lily went pale. "Attacked?" she croaked out. "God, he's...I mean, he's not my Harry, but still, is he going to be..." she trailed off, stammering.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I'm sure he'll live."

Lily nodded, slightly relieved. James, however, seemed to have not heard the short exchange. "So have you spoken to him?

Lily's resolve broke, and her face flushed with anger. "James, for God's sake, he was attacked! Don't you listen?" she snapped.

James turned his head slightly, shooting her a dark look. "I listen fine, Lily," he said coolly. "Better than you think I do."

Lily rolled her eyes, huffing. She could feel the fight that would come later, a mix of dread and fear, like a snake about to strike at your heel.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I think it would be best," he said, "if you were to keep Jacquelyn and, er, your Harry, away from the hospital wing for the time being. And as for when you can see him, James," James perked up slightly. "I will need to speak with him first, but I will firecall you with any new developments."

James nodded, disgruntled but mollified. Lily sighed. So much for her day off.

00

Grey.

Harry had always hated that color, it was the color of Petunia's porridge on Sunday mornings, the porridge that had always smelled so sweet and so delicious, the porridge that Petunia had never let Harry have. It was the color of the sky when it was raining, Harry's favorite kind of sky. The kind of sky that he couldn't see from his cupboard. It was the color of wool sweaters knit by your mum, of the down pillows that covered your bed and made sure that you never had a crick in your neck.

In short, it was the color of things that Harry couldn't have.

He used to think that Hermione was another grey, for a long time he'd thought that, actually. But somewhere, some deity must've taken pity on him and colored her in, because she certainly was the one spot of color in his life.

Right now, grey was all he could see. Grey, fuzzy shapes, moving, voices talking. Was he dead? Was he asleep? Harry wasn't sure if he preferred the prior or the latter.

His eyes squeezed shut, and the shapes disappeared. The voices slowly got softer, sounded farther away, and it was a long time before Harry dared to try and open his eyes again.

Blinking to clear his vision, he looked around groggily. The hospital wing? Had the Order come? At least he was at Hogwarts, and not with Kane and his bastard brigade. He caught sight of Hermione, resting in a chair next to his bed, her head on her arms, fast asleep. He grinned briefly, Pomfrey had probably tried to get her to leave. He would've liked to see her argue the old medi-witch into the ground.

"Well, looks like you're in a right state, then."

The voice came from straight across the aisle of beds, on Harry's left. His head whipped quickly and his eyes widened. Ronald Weasley lounged lazily on the bed next to Harry's, his feet in the air, his head propped on his hands. He was wearing his old school uniform, and he looked about sixteen.

"Ron," Harry croaked out, his throat tight.

Ron looked over at him and grinned. "Don't get your hopes up, mate, I'm in your head," he commented. "Might be a side effect of all those energy-replenishing potions they've been pumping into you."

Harry shook his head, his brow furrowing. "I don't under...you're dead."

Ron snorted, swinging his legs off of the mattress and pulling himself up into a sitting position. "You just figure that out?" he asked, grinning.

Harry watched him sit there, looking and acting so much like the Ron he remembered, the Ron that he'd loved (--still loved!) like a brother. A dull ache that had been present in his chest since Ron's death suddenly sharpened into a deadly point. "What's going on?" Harry managed to ask.

Ron shrugged. "How should I know? I'm a bloody delusion," he said. "Seriously, do you have any idea how boring it is being dead?" Harry shook his head dumbly. "Well, it is. Boring, I mean. I'm a figment of your stupid imagination, the least you could do was give me some games to play, or a Quidditch book, or something."

"Ron..." Harry trailed off. "I..." he stopped, at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted, that he needed to say, how could he even voice it out loud?

Ron smiled slightly, his eyes sad. "Yeah, I know, Harry." He shook his head, chuckling wryly. "Don't you get it? You don't have to explain anything. I already know," he said pointedly. Harry frowned, confused. Ron ignored his expression, instead gesturing to the still sleeping Hermione. "She's worried, you know."

Harry nodded absently. "She's always worried."

Ron laughed quietly. "Yup. Good 'ol Mione." He stood up, rolling up the sleeves to his uniform shirt. "You should probably wake up now, mate."

"I'm not awake already?" Harry asked. He started at the sound of his voice, it sounded far away to his ears.

Ron grinned, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. "Just remember, you stupid oaf, I already know."

With those cryptic words, Harry Potter awoke with a start.

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