"Physically? I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache. No worries."
"When did it start?" Ivy questioned.
Harry shrugged, his eyes still closed. "If it was there before, I'm just feeling it now. Hit me like a bloody truck..."
Harleen quickly removed herself from his lap and removed her gloves. Gently, she pressed her hand to his forehead. "It's not warm," she said a moment later, and looked at Red, who had gotten up from the couch. "Got anything for headaches?"
"Where does it hurt?" She asked him, double-checking his forehead.
Harry felt a twinge. Right where... "Shit. Not there again."
"Where?" Harley wondered with growing alarm. "Your temples?"
"No," Harry hissed, "not there. Where my scar used to be. She's pissed right now."
"Who?" Ivy wondered, completely befuddled, not sure if she should be alarmed for his health or worried for his sanity.
"Hermione," Harry groaned. "And she's really pissed right now."
Harley felt a twinge of remembrance at the Shakespearian name, and her eyes widened. "Hold on," she told them both, and sped out of the living room, through the kitchen, and down the hallway.
Harry hissed, and Pamela gasped in surprise as a light-bluish glow erupted from the right side of his forehead. Pale at first, then brighter and brighter - a distinct symbol lit his skin, almost like a lightning bolt...
Harley sprinted back in the room and froze in shock at the unexpected sight before her.
Harry grabbed at his head and grit his teeth in pain, struggling to force the pain out of his head. Had he any sense, he would have laughed at the impossible thought.
But all he could see was pain.
"Hermione, STOP!" He screamed, his body hunching over and falling into his new clothes.
And then, it stopped. He wasn't expecting that, and he sat up in surprise and opened his eyes.
A pointed, dark green vine hovered over him, swaying melodiously, like a snake poised to strike.
Pamela breathed a sigh of relief, several feet behind the vine. "I thought I was going to have to hold you down," she brokenly whispered, and the vine retreated. "What the hell happened?"
"Oh!" Harley squeaked at the sensation, and hastily pulled out a small circular mirror out of her pocket. "It just... bit me! A mirror just bit me!"
Harry grinned tiredly. "It does that to people who aren't me. It'll do more than bite if you don't answer."
The natural blonde quickly sat next to him and passed him the mirror, and pressed her hand to his forehead again. "Don't - !"
"Ah! Dammit!"
"Sorry," Harry muttered, wincing. "It does that. Curls my fringe up sometimes with the heat." He reached for Harley's hand, and she gingerly placed it in his.
"I think we need to start carrying a first aid kit," Harley muttered embarrassingly.
Ivy watched as Harley's pained look softened as Harry rubbed his thumb in circles at the back of her hand, magically soothing the pain. "I think we've already got one. I'll go get a towel." She strolled out of the room towards the kitchen.
"I'd make a sexual innuendo about you having magic hands, but I'm sure you get that a lot." The girl in pigtails relaxed in his embrace, resting her head against the back of the sofa.
Harry purposefully looked at the screen, refraining to tell her that he had heard them all, and he would need to thank her later for not making him hear it one more time.
He took a few shallow breaths.
"Answer," he murmured, and he immediately held the glass at arm's length.
"Shit! Are you okay, Harry?"
He flinched. "What do you mean?"
"I can see your sweat! Your bloody scar's visible again! I'm sorry, Harry, I really am!"
Harry flinched again, for a different reason. "Wait - so you're not mad at me?"
"What? NO - of course not, Harry! You tried to save Sirius! How were you supposed to know that you'd be sent to wherever the hell you are? It's no one's fault but Bellatrix's, and she's been dealt with."
"If you see a woman wrapped in unicorn hair and a frayed unicorn tail," Luna sounded out of view, "then it's probably Bellatrix. Make sure it's her, though."
"We'll find you, Harry. Don't worry."
Harry brought the mirror closer, and inspected the girl in the reflection. "Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"If you're not angry at me, why the hell did my head almost explode less than a minute ago?"
"I... may have an explanation for that."
"Whenever you're ready."
"There's no need for sarcasm, Harry. Honestly..."
"Ummm..." Harley interrupted, and it was disconcerting to see two different faces turn to her like a normal mirror could do. "S-sorry, it's just that... what the fuck just happened?"
"I second that," Pamela said as she sat back on the arm of the couch, gently placing a wet, cold washcloth on his forehead, and he smiled weakly in appreciation. "I think we deserve an explanation; Harley was almost in tears."
Harley quickly wiped at her eyes, and glared at Ivy's smirk when she realized she was messing with the young girl. "I was worried, alright! And I had no idea what the hell was going on! I still don't!"
Hermione bit on her bottom lip, and Harry took notice. "Spill, Hermione. What just happened?"
The curly-haired brunette sighed to herself. "Okay. So, Ronald was just getting out of the hospital wing, and he made a pass at me, while in the same breath, insulting you and called everyone in our mutual group your whores..."
Harry's eyes hardened. "What?"
Hermione winced. "The headache is coming my way. Please calm down, Harry."
The glass cracked in Harry's fingers. He dropped the mirror to the floor. "Shit. Sorry, Hermione."
"I deserve it. I must've given you a massive headache for you to sweat like that. Sorry."
He picked up the mirror and tapped it, and the mirror was as good as new. "So what did you do?"
Her chocolate brown eyes searched his emerald green. "Promise you won't be mad?"
"I can't promise anything if you hadn't beaten him within an inch of his life."
"Then you'll be positively ecstatic, then," Luna cheered, her cheek pressing against Hermione. "Ronald is dead now, Harry!"
"Luna?!"
"What?" She asked innocently. "I'm just cheering him up. He looks like he needs it."
"Harry, don't listen to Luna. Ronald is not dead."
"Not bloody yet," Harry growled. "But he will be."
"See?" Harley whispered to her girlfriend. "Just like Bats, but better! And British! Isn't that insane?"
"That still doesn't explain how he knows what you're feeling," Ivy deliberately ignored Harley. Lately, she's been agreeing with everything Harley said, and she just knew something bad was going to come out of it if she encouraged it. "Is it some kind of magic thing? Does everyone have this?"
"Maybe they're soul mates?" Harley suggested, with a sickeningly sweet smile.
Harry looked pointedly at Hermione. "Would you call it that?"
"I'd definitely call it a soul bond. I wouldn't call you and Voldemort soul mates."
They both shuddered at the thought.
"So, that exists? You two can literally feel what the other feels?" Harley looked excited at the prospect. "So you two are literally in a bond of true, unbreakable love?"
Harry and Hermione shrugged synchronously, and it was, once again, disturbing. "I'd like to think it's unbreakable," Harry grinned, "but the bond has nothing to do with that. Though it may be part of the reason it was made. We can certainly feel what the other's feeling. Sometimes, we can communicate with thoughts."
"And that's how I got Harry's distress," Hermione explained. "When I heard him to tell me to stop."
"Though, it may be turning into a real soul bond," Luna placed her input. "You'd have to ask grandma Joan about bonds, but most bonds are weakened when one leaves the country."
Harley snapped her fingers. "So that's why you said she could somehow tell that you were still alive! But how come you haven't talked to him since he got here?"
"I couldn't. I could feel that he was alive and well, but I couldn't do much else. He had left his communication mirror at home. And then he blocks my bloody calls..."
"I didn't think you'd react well to the news," Harry protested weakly.
"To the news? Yes. To you? Of course not. Tonks and Susan stopped me from running into the bloody veil myself when I saw what you did."
"That's so sweet," Harleen sighed. "If I knew what a veil was, I'm sure I'd be impressed."
Pamela beautifully arched an eyebrow at Harleen, smiling at the girl's fascination. She was somewhat interested as well, being in the field of science herself, and listening to how everything she had ever learned about space and time being proven wrong was quite thrilling. She knew Crane would love to hear this.
And besides, if it kept them from talking about their confessions earlier that night, then she was completely okay with any distraction.
She needed to think. She really didn't know what about, but she knew that she needed to.
"A veil," Hermione began explaining, "is the portal Harry walked through to land in your world. It's the gateway to another dimension, apparently, when everyone else called it the Death Arch. We don't know if Harry's the rule or exception. Sirius... so far, he hasn't contacted us, and he has no way of getting in contact with us. He could be alive, and doing well, but I don't think we will find out anytime soon."
"Sirius?" Harley asked.
"My Godfather," Harry explained. "He was hit by a spell, and fell into the veil. I followed him, and here I am."
Harley absorbed that information. If it wasn't for some freak accident, Harry would have never entered her life. "When you find him... I want to thank him myself." She squeezed Harry's hand.
"You've found another keeper," Hermione smiled in the mirror. "Luna told me I'd like her."
"Which reminds me... Luna?"
Wide, silvery eyes moved into the frame. "Yes, Harry?"
"How does Hermione know that I'm in another dimension?"
"Oh; she asked me about it."
"And why didn't you tell her I was in America?"
"I did. She didn't believe me. Then she threatened to go to States herself and start searching the whole country. Naturally, I admitted that I lied. Then she started making worst-case scenarios. She also suggested time-travel. I Saw that, by the way. Twenty-one years?"
Harry sighed. There was no fooling Hermione - ever. "Yes, Luna. I'm in Nineteen seventy-four. Technically, it doesn't affect me at all, especially since we've already established that this is a completely different world, and not purely time travel. If anything, I've got a shot to take out Voldemort here, if he's here, and if there's a James and Lily in this world, they get to live a full life together."
Hermione looked worried. "Just don't be rash about it. We have to plan this accordingly - if he exists there."
"At least he's dead here, now." Everyone turned to Luna. "Temporarily, at least. I didn't think you wanted to hear about that."
"Luna..." Hermione started worriedly, "...what did you See?"
The wispy blonde wrinkled her nose. "A dead body shaped like Voldemort. More specifically, his corpse lying in a bed in a locked chamber. Not a very pleasant sight, but that can't be helped."
Hermione furrowed her brows. "When did you See that, Luna?"
"I Saw it earlier today, before we sent Bellatrix through the veil. I informed her of her master's death, and she seemed fairly confident that I was lying. Then she bragged about the Horcrux in her possession. I correctly assumed it was her vault. The look of defeat on her face was quite hilarious. I didn't want to tell you guys until the goblins send back confirmation."
"We found a Horcrux?" Harry seemed ecstatic at the news. "Great, Luna!"
"I take it that the word 'Horcrux' means something more than just a hilarious word," Harleen queried. "Sorry. It's just... muggle here. Clueless and therefore, useless."
"Don't use that word," Harry frowned. "And you're very useful. Horcruxes are pieces of soul, born by death. Kill someone with no remorse, and it transfers half your soul into the object of your choosing."
"With a spell," Hermione added. "And I never discovered that spell, nor have I ever felt a need to find out. The only way to reverse it is for either the killer to feel true remorse, or to destroy the object the Horcrux is in."
Luna giggled. "That is a funny name, actually. Haven't thought much about it."
Hermione shook her head, a smile gracing her lips. "So far, we've found four. We're not sure how many he made, but we're assuming six or seven. He was a bit superstitious, and seven is a very powerful number in rituals of all sorts."
"Okay," Harley nodded, thoroughly interested. "So how did he die?"
Luna shrugged. "If I could guess, it probably has something to do with the Horcrux inside Harry."
Pamela and Harleen's heads twisted sharply at the green-eyed wizard. "What?"
Harry sighed. "Luna, you know we got rid of that Horcrux. It's gone."
Luna shook her head. "It's the only way to explain why Voldemort is dead right now, so conveniently close to you going through the veil. This is the first time we've destroyed a Horcrux while he's technically alive - maybe that's a regular reaction."
"The proof is in the scar, Harry," the brunette whispered, looking at the crimson mark carved into his forehead. "I think it's been buried all this time. It's gone now. It's truly gone."
The green/redhead removed her glare from the Boy-Who-Lived and focused on the brunette, her expression considerably softer. "So when you told us that you wouldn't call Harry and Voldemort soul mates..."
The brightest witch of the ages nodded. "Yes. They were soul bonded, but it's a bit different. Voldemort wasn't aware of it. It was the instability of the last vestiges of his soul when he tried to kill Harry. An accidental Horcrux. Harry got that scar that night. Voldemort had so many
different pieces of him out there, he couldn't sense them anymore, he'd be almost devoid of any feeling."
Harry lifted the soaked cloth from his forehead, and gingerly poked at the thin, jagged shape burned into his skin. "I'm not feeling anything from it. Why did it happen now? Why not when I went through the veil?"
"Maybe it did?" Harley suggested. All eyes were on her. "Maybe the horcrux disappeared when you went through the portal. I mean, that veil. The veil of death you called it. It sounds like it's a device that no one understands, and it has rules that are plainly impossible to comprehend. But maybe it saw that Harry had more than one soul, and took that one instead."
"That..." Hermione looked perplexed. "I don't think that's possible. Is it?"
Luna shrugged. "Maybe; we don't have any other theories."
Harry was silent for a moment. "So that would mean that Sirius is dead," he intoned monotonously. Harley squeezed his hand, and looked towards the girls in the mirror with concern.
Luna vehemently shook her head. "Not necessarily. He could have been sent to another universe like you did. And Voldemort's soul could have just been sent somewhere else, since his body didn't travel with him."
"So..." Harry rubbed at his chin. "Why are you still there, Hermione?"
"I don't know, Harry. I'd hazard a guess that our souls are more connected than Voldemort's was to yours, so it was loose bait."
Harry shrugged. "At this point, I'll take that answer. It's better than the alternative."
"Wait," Harley said, putting the pieces together. "So you mean that... you're telling me that you guys are each other's Horcruxes?"
Harry grinned sheepishly, while Hermione looked away in embarrassment. "Not exactly," he tried to explain, "but pretty close. It did involve the same... process."
Pamela sighed. "I'm going to go fix some coffee. I don't think we're going to sleep for a while." She slinked out of the arm of the chair, and walked past them to the kitchen.
Harry, Harleen, Hermione and Luna all watched her walk away, mesmerized at the gentle sway of her hips framed by her leafy skirt. "Sweet Merlin," Hermione whispered.
"That's my Ivy," Harleen whispered with a wistful smile. "Most beautiful girl in the world. Spend a day with her, and you can't help but fall in love." She winked at Harry. "Or less."
Harry chuckled, his arm wrapping around Harley's shoulders. "I can't be blamed. Nor can I be blamed for falling for her equally beautiful girlfriend."
"I've only met you for a few minutes," Hermione commented, "and I'm rather shocked that Harry met you two by chance. Granted, the make-up seems rather excessive, but I certainly wouldn't kick you out of bed."
The girl smiled at the, admittedly, stunningly beautiful brunette. "Thank you for the compliment. I wouldn't rush to leave the bed. Though, I don't think Ivy would respond well to it."
"She's watching from the chair, with my head between her knees," Luna said matter-of-factly. "Though I don't know if I Saw that, or if it was my admittedly active imagination. Though I also see a very pretty pet kitty that I've never met."
"You mean Juliet?" Harley questioned, her eyes bright. "You can really see her?"
"If that's her name, yes. She's... flexible."
"Juliet?" Harry asked, before Harleen could inquire further.
"Mm-hmm," she answered him, "One of my pets. You'd get along great with her."
"You mean the one that you've trained to, uh, hit me where I'm weak."
Harley shook her head. "Nah. I've never tried to train her to do that. I've threatened it, and she plays the threatening role well, and that's intimidation enough."
Luna chose not to comment. Considering it was obvious they were talking about an animal, and while the girl in her vision was an excellent animal impersonator, she was most decidedly not a cat.
Though, Luna admitted, from what she had seen, she definitely knew how to attack Harry's weak spot with vigour.
Harley reached up to hold the hand resting on her shoulder, and pulled it down to rest on the middle of her lycra-covered chest. "Pammy doesn't know what to think of this. She doesn't know how she feels. Let her think about it, and she'll come around."
"What do you think about it?" he asked her seriously.
She gave a heavy sigh. "I love Red, and I can't imagine a world without her. I can't imagine my life without her. We started our partnership on a purely sexual relationship, but we were open to see where it would go from there. I told her I loved her six days after I ran away with her. And I thought it was too soon." Her eyes focused on his. "I love you, Harry. And she does, too. If you truly meant what you said when we were out there, then I don't want you to think that you've said it too early, because I feel the same. I've seen too many relationships break apart because they don't know how the other feels, and they're stepping on eggshells."
Harry let out an uneasy breath, not even sure if he was holding it in or not. "I meant every word. I wasn't going for a one-night stand with a girl who had just broken up with her girlfriend. I wanted to steal you. I wanted you for myself, from a woman who I thought was taking you for granted. When I found out why she reacted the way she did, I felt... pretty bloody terrible. So I wanted to make it up to her." Harry grinned. "And you were right. It takes less than a day. I'm surprised it took you a week."
"It didn't," she smiled fondly. "I was in love the moment I made the decision to run away with her. I decided then that I would do whatever I could to win her over."
"Did she think it was too soon?" Harry wondered.
Her eyes shined at the happy memory. "I'll never forget her words. 'About damn time,' she told me. 'I was beginning to think you were straight.'"
Harry laughed. "Like that would stop any woman."
She rested her head on his chest, mindful of her pigtail, her hands clasped with his. "So we'll enjoy this; cherish it. So when you go back to Hermione, and Luna, and your family, there are no regrets."
Hermione spoke up from the mirror. "Harry?"
"I have faith in you, Hermione. You know what they say about soul mates. Even if you wanted to get rid of me, you couldn't. If you can't get to me, I'll get back to you," he whispered solemnly. "To all of you. Even if I have to try apparating there myself."
He said it with such conviction; he almost convinced himself that it was a fact. Hermione and Luna smiled at his words, and Harry gave a slight grin. "You're right, Harry," Luna murmured. "We'll find a way. If what I Saw was a real vision, then we had to have found some way."
"We're not going anywhere, Harry," Hermione smiled at her boyfriend, "And we'll find a way. Bonded or not, you're not getting rid of me, Harry James Potter."
Harleen watched Hermione's eyes - the look of a strong, fierce woman who would do anything to get hers. "All I ask," the natural blonde whispered, feeling the eyes move to her, "is that when your vacation is over, that you remembered the two pretty girls that kept your stay here bearable."
The two girls felt shame at the implications of their words; making sure that Harry got to their world, away from Gotham, away from the sweet girl that seemed to attach herself to the boy they love.
"We made a statement tonight, in Gotham, Harley," Harry spoke clearly, his hand squeezing hers. "What was it?"
"That you're here," Harley said with uncertainty, almost as a question.
"I made three promises in that statement. I am here, yes, and together, we can make whatever change you want in Gotham to happen. The outline of that can be hammered out whenever we see fit; we have the time. My second promise was that I'm here to stay. When Hermione and Luna figure out how the hell I got here, it wouldn't take much more to figure out how to travel in-between. My third promise was to you and Ivy." He held her tighter to himself, and she cherished his embrace. "I'm here to stay for a reason. When I said I loved you two. That wasn't a statement. That was a promise; a hopeful promise. That this relationship might grow."
Harley's white teeth glimmered in her smile as she wiped her wet eyes. "I hope it grows, too," she whispered.
The four sat in companionable silence, Harley and Harry getting comfort from each other, Hermione and Luna contemplating the character that is Harleen Frances Quinzel, and how in such a short time, she had fallen completely and utterly in love with Harry James Potter. And how she didn't even know it yet.
"You know what this means, right?" the green/redhead asked him as she tangled their fingers together below her chin.
"Hm?"
"If you break our hearts, we'll kill you."
"If I break your hearts, it'd be because I'm already dead."
Harley quirked an eyebrow, her lips curled. "You used that line before, didn't you?"
"Only once; with Hermione's father. After he showed me his gun collection."
"He did that?" Hermione asked, mortified. "I'm going to... wait. He has a gun collection?"
Harry shook his head. "He did. For a week. Borrowed them from a friend, just so he could use it on me. It all fell apart when I was expressing interest in the types of guns, and I ended up knowing more than he did. It was kind of a bonding moment when I started teaching him about it."
"And he wasn't worried about how his dear daughter was with a boy who had an affinity for guns?"
"Antiques, mostly," Harry defended himself, "And no. Man's got to protect his own, y'know."
Hermione scoffed. "We've saved each other's arses so many times over the years, Potter. I'm hardly a damsel."
"His words, not mine. Wasn't going to point out that by then, we've been saving each other and the girls to a point where it's almost become a business."
"Potter's Protection, Incorporated?" Harley quipped, and the two laughed.
"I like it," Luna commented from the side. "We'd have to get that copyrighted."
Hermione blushed. "It sounds more like a company that sells condoms, to be honest!"
Pamela sauntered into a room with a large pot of coffee and tea, and found everyone in a considerably better mood. "Did I miss something?" She questioned the room with amusement on her features.
Harry shook his head. "No, not really. We're just about to get started, actually." He threw the mirror out in front of him, and Harley and Ivy watched in fascination as it glimmered and shimmered brightly, before landing straight on its edge, as wide and tall as the maroon sofa he and Harley were sitting on. For a glimmer, Hermione and Luna's faces were the size of Pamela's entire body, before Hermione made a sudden movement with her mirror. In a flash, the three saw the entire view of Hermione and Luna sitting together on the loveseat in what Harry knew was the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Luna? What time is it?"
Luna checked her watch. "It's three-fifteen."
"It's about midnight here," Harleen informed them.
"Good. More than four hours until classes ends. Plenty of time. Where should we begin?"
"The costumes would be a nice conversation starter."
"Luna!" Hermione looked scandalized. "Don't insult someone's customs! We don't know how their world works!"
"It's not their custom," she explained smoothly. They're national criminals, and that's their disguises."
"I..." now Hermione looked mortified. She blushed heavily. "I-I'm sorry, I just assumed..."
"You've never met anyone from our world," Pamela waved her off. "You'd have no idea what we are. When Harry saw that we were criminals, and Harley mentioned that she went to school, he assumed that she went to a school for criminals."
"Not my brightest moment," Harry muttered, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, and the girls giggled. Ivy took the time to lay out the mugs of coffee the vine followed her with and set the coffee next to them on the arm of the sofa.
"Well, it explains their outfits," Hermione spoke, "but what about you, Harry?"
Harry looked down at his slashed-through crimson shirt and black cotton jeans. "Something I thought up while we were out. It's not permanent, but it'll give me a unique look for a while."
"And you're okay with the idea of him being a criminal?"
"In our world, Harry's a hero. And so far, he doesn't get a lick of respect from the public, or the Ministry. If Voldemort truly is dead, then nothing can stand in our way of our takeover of Britain. We're criminals in our own right - in sheep's wool."
Luna smiled at Hermione's words. "It's quite a stark contrast to wearing a costume and making declarations of war with a city."
"I like the costumes," Harley pouted. "They're flashy, and people view you with fear. Jesters will be more feared by children than mimes, or even clowns." Her free hand rubbed up and down his long sleeve. "And I like this look, even though I didn't get to design it. It's got just the right amount of spandex."
Ivy boldly stepped forward and pressed her hand to the material, her fingers skimming against his side, and Harry tensed lightly. "Smooth," she whispered, and winked.
"Somebody's done a little soul-searching in the kitchen," Harleen grinned.
Ivy shrugged, before patting his firm abdomen. "I started thinking about it as I practically felt everyone's eyes on my ass. Then I thought about how Harley and I confessed to each other. Never waste a moment, right?"
Harleen's smile met Ivy's. "Not a single second, baby."
Ivy squeezed into Harry's other side on the couch, mindful of the tray of coffee- and teapots and mugs on her other side. "So, I guess I'm part of your group. I'd say that it was more for Harleen's benefit, but to quote her when she decided to run off with me - 'Call me curious.'"
"We'd hope so," Hermione started, before conjuring a glass. "Aguamenti," she muttered, and the glass filled on its own. "We've got a bit to talk about. Normally, we're not supposed to tell you anything about us, but it's safe to say that you're outside the Ministry's reach. So, where should we begin?"
"How about from the beginning?" Ivy suggested, before pouring herself a cup of tea and leaning against Harry's side. "With details?"
Harry settled into his seat between the two beautiful girls, and they both snuggled closer. Hermione and Luna did the same, the blonde's head resting against the brunette's shoulder while they wrapped their arms around each other.
And then the epic tale regarding the life of Harry James Potter began.
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