Sometimes That's What It Takes

The sun was shining. There were clouds everywhere. Oh my God, I think she killed me, was my first thought. My second was, Why is it so cold, and where are all the angels and harps? I looked around. I was standing -- if that was an accurate description; it wasn't like I could feel anything under my feet -- on an endless sea of cloud.

It looked exactly like what Heaven was supposed to look like: a vast expanse of fluffy white lumps as far as the eye could see, the sun throwing its long, golden rays across the tableau, the sky tinged delicate pinks and purples at the edges. I looked down. My feet seemed to be resting on the clouds' surface, as if it were a spongy bed of moss. I bounced a little, testing the solidity. There was no give, but it didn't feel hard, either. I took a tentative step, and the clouds held. I took a few more steps; it was more of the same. I bent over and tried to push against the 'ground' with my hand. It felt cool and wet, but I couldn't breach the surface. It was like a white, misty, force field. Strange. I went to set the potions box down, as it was getting tedious to hold. Contrary to my expectation, however, it wouldn't rest on the ground. Instead, it slipped easily into the clouds, and I nearly lost it. Luckily, I was able to re-tighten my grip on it in the nick of time. Maybe it was me that was impermeable, and not the clouds?

After tucking the box safely back under one arm, I leaned over again and stuck my wand down into the clouds, making sure to maintain a firm grip. It easily slid in, up to my fingers, then would go no further. It didn't feel like it had hit the bottom, though. It was simply the fact that the clouds would not allow any part of my body to pass through them. I pulled the wand back. It was damp, but otherwise seemed to be unchanged.

All right. I now had another theory in addition to the death one, which I didn't want to discount yet, although the behaviour of the box and the wand made me think there was something else going on. It could be that Susan had somehow sent me to an odd, alternate dimension. I wondered how long I would have to wait here, whether I was alone, and if there were anything I could do to get back. I started walking slowly, still wary; maybe there were traps or pitfalls, places where I could be swallowed by the ground like the box had nearly been. There were no landmarks, no change in the endless whiteness below nor the unrelenting blue above. I started to suffer from snow blindness -- cloud blindness? -- with the brilliant light reflecting off the white surface. My eyes were watering. I closed them, and felt dizzy. I also felt tears of emotion coming on.

Come on, Hermione! Don't panic! You've been in worse situations than this! I told myself. At least there's no insane Death Eater, man-eating plant, or giant snake trying to torture, digest, or petrify you. Right? I opened my eyes, shielding them with my hand and squinting, and looked around again. Nope. But there did appear to be a break in the whiteness a short distance away. Something darker...

I made my way over toward it cautiously. The ground was becoming greyer, the texture changing. Whereas before it had been composed of soft lumps, now it became more like grainy strands. And there -- I had to stop myself as my head whirled; I was in danger of toppling over the edge. I realised with shock that I was neither in an alternate dimension, nor, most likely, dead. I was literally up on top of the clouds, far over some city. It was entirely probable that was the town I'd just been in, or a neighbouring one. All I could see through the gap in the clouds were rows and rows of tiny houses, and some lines cutting through them which might be streets or rivers. I didn't fancy taking a more thorough look. I do not like heights. No, I certainly do not like heights! There was a reason I never took to flying.

I wondered, dizzily, if it would be possible for me to fall through the hole, whether the clouds were keeping me up after all, and if so, if another gap were to appear nearby without me noticing it -- right beneath my feet, even -- whether I would plummet to the earth before I realised what was happening. Rather than take that very alarming chance, I backed carefully away from the hole, retreating to where the clouds were thicker and more solid.

As I was doing so, my mind and body running at about a million miles an hour with all the new impressions, information, and possibilities, one logical flash came to me: if I was only a few thousand feet in the air (frightening as that was), as opposed to being in an unknown, alternate dimension (or dead), I could simply Apparate away! With great relief and smugness, as well as slight sheepishness at having taken so long to come to this conclusion, I closed my eyes, thought of the place I reckoned was the closest and thus the safest to Apparate to -- the street before Professor Snape's house -- and -- Nothing. The beginnings of panic gripped me again. Maybe my magic was completely blocked.

"Lumos!" That was stupid, I realised as soon as I'd said it; it was so bright already, I couldn't tell whether my wand had lit up or not. What else, what else... I lifted the edge of my cloak and found a stray thread dangling. "Diffindo!" I easily sliced it off. A slight relief trickled through me. At least I wasn't stranded here without magic, on top of everything else!

I watched the thread as it drifted away. It floated slowly downwards until it vanished soundlessly in the clouds beneath my feet. Gone.

All right. Consider this rationally, I told myself. Maybe that's a different city altogether down there, and the Professor's house is out of Apparition range. If I could only find a landmark... I edged closer to the hole in the clouds again, as close as I dared, and tried to make sense of the miniature world below me. Everything looked grey; it was still raining down there. There was a large, irregularly-shaped dark patch. It might be a forest. Another darker, snakey shape was probably a river. There was a river near Professor Snape's house, wasn't there? I could sometimes smell it on my way there and back. Oh, this was hopeless! I needed another solution.

I stepped away from the gap in the clouds again. It was a good job the weather was always so dreary at this time of year; I would probably have enough cloud cover for several days, at least, if it came to that. But there had to be a way down!

I was getting tired of standing by now, and of holding the Professor's box. Not seeing any other seats, I lowered myself carefully to the ground (as I thought of the cloud surface). I tried to arrange my cloak underneath me, but the clouds weren't impervious to it, and it merely dangled down into the misty mass. Not wanting it to get soaked through, I hauled the ends back up and tucked them around me. The box received a spot perched on my crossed legs.

Susan, you really have landed me in a fine kettle of Plimpies, I thought, troubled. All this for Professor Snape?

I couldn't see how the two of them would make each other happy. They seemed like such... polar opposites. Opposites attract, a smarmy little voice in my head told me. The same one that always told me I was being ridiculous when I took care with my hair and clothes and brushed my teeth before going to the Professor's.

No, it couldn't be true. Susan must have made it up. She simply must have.

The stray thought struck me: what would Professor Snape's Patronus turn into, if Susan became his source of happiness? Harry and Ron had told me about the doe, although I had never actually seen it. Ron thought it was hilarious, and Harry thought it was just plain weird. I actually found it rather romantic.

Wait.

Patronus.

I slapped myself on the forehead. Then I took it back, because the Apparition idea hadn't worked either. But if this did work, I could send a message to Harry and have him come up to fetch me. Yes, it meant I'd have to get on a broom for the first time in Merlin knows how many years, but given a choice between that and waiting until the clouds dissipated ...

I took a deep breath and blew it out, closed my eyes, and searched my memory: the realisation that Harry wasn't dead after all ... receiving the Order of Merlin ... being re-united with my parents ... "Expecto Patronum!" Brownie -- my otter Patronus (Ron had christened his little Jack Russell 'Charger') -- leapt from my wand and tumbled over and over in a joyous somersault. I always imagined he was like the genie in the lamp, waiting somewhere to be released, and happy to stretch his legs a bit. So far so good. I waited until he rolled over on his back in front of me, as if he wanted me to rub his ghostly belly. Then I leaned over and whispered my message, along with the instruction to deliver it to Harry.

And then he was gone, dipping into the clouds with a splash of mist. I realised with an uneasy feeling that I was becoming thirsty. Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. Clouds were actually composed of fresh water, although I couldn't drink them. Unless... A flash of insight came to me. It should work...

"Aguamenti!"

A burbling stream of water flowed out of my wand. I grinned and took a nice, long drink. Of course, it wasn't possible to create water in the middle of a desert; the Aguamenti Charm only gathered water from a nearby source and funnelled it through the wand. Apparently, clouds worked as well as ground water or plumbing. I felt quite pleased with myself. I knew I couldn't do the same thing to get food, but at least I would be able to survive for a couple of weeks, if worst came to worst.

It wouldn't, though. It couldn't! Susan surely hadn't meant to harm me. She had probably been scared I was going to call her bluff, and reacted in the heat of the moment. I wasn't sure I wouldn't have done something similar. I still got hot all over when I recalled sending those birds after Ron, back at school. It had been a childish reaction, and counter-productive. I was certainly no stranger to jealousy, nor to lashing out with magic. The more I thought about it, the more I relaxed. Susan's conscience would probably get to her as soon as she calmed down. She would reverse the spell and return me safely to sea level. Maybe she was only going to keep me up here for as long as she had her session with Professor Snape, so I couldn't ruin the afternoon for her.

Still, there were going to be consequences. She couldn't be allowed to continue attending to the Professor. That conclusion wasn't the result of jealousy or possessiveness on my part. I was perfectly willing -- happy, even -- for a medi-magical professional to continue working with the Professor on his physical recovery. Not that I had a say in the matter, either way. It was entirely up to him. No, if feelings had developed, on either of their part, it would be unethical for Susan to continue working with him in a professional capacity. I considered what I would do, how things would change for me, if at all, should it turn out that, by some bizarre corruption of all that was right and just in the universe, Professor Snape and Susan Bones did want to ... play Bremen-Town musicians together.

Ew.

That was simply... wrong. I shuddered. But I would deal with it. It might take a Memory Charm or two, but I would deal with it. I had never held any claim over him. He had no idea how I felt. Not that I ever could have told him. I could just see it: 'Oh, by the way, Professor, here's an order for Boil Cure Potion, and I'm deeply, irrevocably in love with you and have fantasies about ravishing you right here in your kitchen. They'd like it to be ready by next Thursday.' I shivered again. It was quite nippy up here. I pulled my cloak closer and wondered what time it was. The sun was still bright, but the shadows were getting quite long. Surely Susan was finished with Professor Snape by now. In the most upstanding, professional sense, of course!

I also wondered whether my Patronus had reached Harry yet, and if he would be able to find me.

There was nothing left for me to do but wait.