Hi folks, I have rewritten Chapter 16 as the first post was a load of old shit. I think this version is much better. Hope you enjoy!

***

The Hogwarts Express finally puffed out her brakes with a billow of smoke and the satisfying grind of steel-on-steel, as the scarlet locomotive slowed for the gentle trundle into the private, hidden platform of Kings Cross Station. Right now, hundreds of excited students were waiting to greet their equally fervoured parents, swapping last minute stories of holiday plans, and Christmas present hopes, all trying to outdo their fellows in terms of stirring expectations for the near month away from school.

For Harry, it was something of a bittersweet feeling that filled him up as the train idled on it's way into the station. He was keen to see his parents again, spend a few weeks with them and Sirius. He was really looking forward to telling them all about his first term at Hogwarts. Even Minerva's threat of extra homework for him hadn't dampened his enthusiasm for the festive period.

But there was something niggling at the corners of his mind. It was a curious little sensation, like he'd left something back at Hogwarts that he'd sorely miss, but he couldn't put his finger on what it might be. He'd packed his travel bag carefully, made certain to bring his wand and the Invisibility Cloak home with him. He didn't need to bring magical toys, like Wizards Chess and Gobstones, as he had his own sets back in London.

So just what was he going to regret being without for the next month?

Harry decided to try and put it from his mind, hope that maybe it would spring on him if he wasn't trying so hard to pin it down, like it was some playful, elusive spirit. He focused on Hermione instead, which was always a pleasant pastime, as she gathered her scattered belongings from around the compartment they'd had to themselves for the entire journey home.

"Are you looking forward to seeing your parents again?" Harry asked breezily, noticing Hermione poking her tongue out in that cute way she always did when she was concentrating, as she tied her shoelaces into neat, even bows.

She picked at her fingernails and avoided Harry's eye. "I'm not going to see my parents, remember?"

Harry's face fell. "Oh, yeah. Hermione - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"You did, but it's okay," Hermione smiled weakly. "I know what you really meant."

Then a realisation hit Harry, hit him hard in the gut. And he felt the worst kind of insensitive wart just then.

"You miss them, don't you?" he asked gently, ashamed of his denseness. "Your real parents, I mean?"

Hermione kept her eyes pinned to her lap. "Wouldn't you, if you were me?"

Of course he would, but Harry had been too busy revelling in the excitement of seeing his own parents again to spare a feeling for his best friend being so far removed from hers. He felt a sorry excuse for his half of that relationship just now.

"And, I suppose, everyone being so high-spirited must have just made things worse for you?" Harry offered quietly. "Knowing you wouldn't be seeing your family this Christmas?"

Hermione nodded briefly again.

"And here's me, being a total arse-donkey about the whole thing," Harry moaned miserably. "Going on about how I'm going to thrash my Dad at chess and battleships, and telling my Mum all about my adventures at school so far ... and about decorating my Godfather in tinsel, when he passes out from too much Firewhiskey. I'm sorry, Hermione. I've been so thoughtless."

Hermione gave him a comforting half-grin. "It's okay. It had to happen sometime. You'd be abnormal to be so considerate all of the time!"

"It is not okay," Harry huffed. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. After the holidays, I'll be extra nice to you. I don't know how, but I'll think of something. There'll probably be a lot of bribery involved! I have a whole month to think about it! Four entire weeks ... twenty-eight days ..."

And there it was.

Harry realised, with a shuddering jolt, just what it was that he would miss from Hogwarts. His voice tailed off as the understanding settled like sludge on his heart, and he felt yet more miserable still, even more than he had for not caring enough about Hermione being separated from her parents by an entire plane of existence!

"I-is there no way you can contact them?" Harry asked, his voice a sad but oddly high-octave tone. "Just to say Merry Christmas?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't see how. It took months to reach here from my world. It would take weeks just to get back to the portal in the far North, let alone the rest of it. That's not to mention all the dangers lurking out there. No, this Christmas I'm going to just have to do without Mum and Dad."

Hermione picked at one of her curliest strands of hair and gazed out of the window with a flat, rueful little shrug. Harry felt the strongest urge to do something, but he had no idea what. So he just stayed still and waited until he thought Hermione's moment of melancholy had passed.

"It's funny, really, that you even have Christmas there," Harry mused after an awkward minute or two.

"The religion crosses the boundaries of worlds," Hermione explained. "Lyra told me once that she was involved in a massive war, one that tried to kill God. The Christian religion crosses into at least our two worlds, though it is much more powerful and controlling in mine. They are really scary there."

Harry shifted awkwardly. He didn't like the idea of Hermione being afraid of anything, but this subject clearly stirred frightful memories for her.

"Which world do you prefer, then?" Harry asked. "You've never said."

"This one, I think," Hermione replied quickly, glancing up at Harry as her cheeks tinted pink. Harry felt something move in his chest at the look Hermione was giving him and the train compartment felt awfully hot all of a sudden. It was like a freak, unseasonal heatwave had abruptly struck him. "But I'd like my parents to be here with me, even though I know that's not possible. It's just because it's this time of the year, a time for families, you know? I'd like to be going home to mine, like everyone else, but I'll be alright. I like Lyra and Mal very much ... but it's not the same."

"No, I can see how it wouldn't be," Harry nodded sagely. "I wish I could help."

"You can," Hermione chirped brightly. "You can write to me, like you promised. I may not have my real family, but at least I have my real best friend. That will be enough for me. So don't let me down!"

Just then the train came to a complete stop. Harry got up very slowly, as though trying to eek out these final few minutes with Hermione. A part of his brain was telling him that this was really quite stupid, that he'd see her again soon enough and that he should stop being so peculiar about the whole thing in the first place.

Then there was another part of his brain that was telling the first part to shut up and keep its opinions to itself. It was all very confusing.

There was some heaving of bags and jostling with the clamour of students clambering to disembark, during which time Hermione got buffeted into Harry's chest on more than one occasion, sending some dormant butterflies to flight in his stomach - that Harry didn't remember swallowing at all - and then they were on the platform.

Harry watched as Draco Malfoy was engulfed by his haughty mother and father - who seemed to be having a Who-Can-Grow-The-Longest/Blondest-Hair contest - and as Ron Weasley was clobbered in a one-handed bear hug by his mother. She had a half-eaten sausage roll in the other hand. Harry idly wondered if she'd caught up with Sirius yet, and truly hoped she hadn't sent any more personal mail to their flat in London ...

"So how are you getting home?" Hermione asked, as they joined the queue to head back through the magical barrier to Kings Cross.

"Tube, probably, that's how me and Sirius came up here in September," Harry babbled happily. "The Victoria Line goes right to the Embankment. Our flat isn't far from the Underground station there."

"Funny. That's where Lyra's flat was," Hermione mentioned curiously. "In our London, you know."

Harry suddenly pricked his ears up a bit. "Then ... you know the area?"

"A little. I mean, London looks pretty much the same in any world, I imagine."

"Mmm," Harry agreed. "So if, say, Lyra brought you Christmas shopping or something, you'd know where Westminster Bridge was?"

"Oh, I already know where that is," Hermione chimed brightly. "Who doesn't? Why does that matter, though?"

"Oh it doesn't, it doesn't," Harry blurted out quickly, though his mind was racing a mile-a-minute at the possibilities this new bit of knowledge threw up. "Just asking, that's all."

"Come on not-lovebirds," Neville teased from behind them. "You're holding up the line!"

"Shut up, Neville!" Harry retorted, blushing furiously.

But he was right, so Hermione - who was grinning to herself about something - pushed through the barrier and out of sight. Harry hurried through in her wake.

"It's the cold, that's all," Harry frowned as he met up with Sirius on the other side, who immediately asked why Harry was so red in the face.

"If you say so," Sirius replied, unconvinced. "Anyway, I brought some stragglers for the journey home. Hope you don't mind."

Harry looked over Sirius' shoulder ... and immediately his face cracked into the broadest grin.

"Mum! Dad!" Harry cried, before being transferred from one embrace to the other. "What are you doing out here? You'll be seen ... again!"

"I think our Secrecy Ship has sailed!" James chuckled. He nodded at some hidden Daily Prophet cameramen lurking behind an advertising hoarding just to their left. "Besides, we wear enough disguises for our work. I've had my fill of sticking fake beards on! I'll be mistaken for Father Christmas at this rate!"

"So, tell us about your term," Lily took over, drawing Harry to her side.

"Oh, there'll be plenty of time for all that," Sirius cut in brusquely. "I want to get away from here quick, before this magical cold Harry was telling me about follows him through the barrier and freezes us all!"

Sirius exchanged a twinkling smirk with James, and nodded over to where Hermione was being greeted by Lyra and Mal nearby.

"Dont you want to say goodbye?" James teased, as Harry scowled at the silliness of the men in his life.

Actually, Harry didn't want to say goodbye to Hermione. On a list of Things Harry Didn't Want To Do, it was pretty much numbers one, two and three.

"We already did that on the platform," Harry huffed back. "Come on. Let's get going. I want to get started on my advent calender chocolates!"

Harry cast one last look at Hermione, who gave him a meek little wave as she caught his eye. He returned it and watched as Lyra guided her away from the station and into Mal's waiting car. Harry followed the silver Mondeo until it was just a dot in the snaking queue of traffic.

Then they were gone from sight completely. Harry sighed and felt the loss. It was a whole new kind of unhappiness ... but at least they hadn't said goodbye.

***

"Now, just relax your mind, focus on the energies in front of you. When one sticks out, just follow it."

Harry frowned. The blindfold stretched tight across his forehead was starting to get itchy. And how was he supposed to perform this task his mother was setting him? Feel energies? Follow them? It sounded like wishy-washy nonsense and not at all like the magic they'd been learning at Hogwarts.

Harry didn't think Hermione would approve of this at all. It was a bit too much like fortune-telling, and that was a very imprecise branch of magic she'd told him once.

"I can't do this, Mum," Harry moaned. "I cant feel anything, apart from this scratchy cloth over my eyes."

"You aren't trying hard enough," Lily told him sternly. "I can hear your mind whirring away, complaining about this."

"You can? I didn't know you were psychic, Mum."

"Dont be flippant," Lily returned. "If you don't get this right, that Christmas Eve calender door stays firmly shut. And it has the best chocolate yet. Liquid caramel centred. Delicious."

That did sound good. Harry's sweet tooth implored him to concentrate that little bit more. So he huffed in another deep breath like his mother had told him, and primed his mind on that one thought, blocking all others out. After a few more breaths Harry felt his mind go still, almost numb, as if floating around in his skull. He thought about caramel, the golden nectar flowing around his mouth.

Then, bizarrely, an idea of Hermione came to him. He often thought of her voice as a little bit like nectar. He liked listening to her talk, and it didn't much matter what it was about. It could have been when they were wondering if Pince the Librarian and Filch the Caretaker were having a secret, abominable love affair; or when Hermione was making terrible jokey observations about how Professor Flitwick's ugly goblin mother must have seduced his wizard father; or when she was simply reciting the correct brewing schedule and ingredients for a Blackhead Banishing Potion. There was just something flowing and lyrical about her tone that threatened to render Harry inert if he relaxed into the sound too much.

"That's it!" Lily whispered eagerly. "Follow that energy. Let it guide your wand."

So Harry did. Weirdly, his wand wanted to go a little bit to the right. Why there, who could tell? Harry certainly didn't, but he obeyed the instinct just the same. His wand was drawn like a magnet to a very specific spot. The pull was intensely strong at this point.

"Now, picture the energy in your mind," Minerva whispered from behind Harry. "And draw what you see into the clay before you."

Harry didn't see the energy. Or did he? There was something ... more like a couple of slashes or marks. It wasn't a picture as such, but it was something.

So he drew. One long, vertical line, then another, cutting down at an angle from left to right. Harry opened his eyes.

"Which rune is that?" Lily quizzed.

"Nauthiz," Harry answered correctly, looking over at the rune stones arranged to his right. The new set he'd received from Hermione as a Christmas present. "It means need and necessity, but also absence and restriction."

"And to have patience," James grinned knowingly from over near the fireplace. "No need to guess why you drew that particular rune!"

"James, don't tease," Lily shot warningly. Harry was thankful for his mother's diligence in looking after him, for he was growing very cross at the continual asides from his father regarding Harry's 'absent friend'. It was getting a very tiresome line of taunting.

Lily, at least, seemed less interested in talking about Hermione Granger at all hours of the day. In fact, it was almost as if she wanted to actively avoid the subject.

But this was one time when Lily decided to make an exception to that rule.

"Were you, Harry? Were you thinking about Hermione?"

Harry blushed. He didn't want to confess that he had, and that he'd been comparing her to sweet honey nectar, either. It didn't seem the kind of thing a boy told to his mother.

But he couldn't lie to her, not when she was looking at him so intently. So he merely nodded. "I was just wondering how she is. Christmas is going to be quite lonely for her. She misses her parents, you know."

"I bet she does, poor lamb," Sirius chipped in from over by the kitchen, where he was preparing a festive cocktail for himself. "If only we hadn't destroyed the Veil Arch at the Ministry ... I might have been able to take her home for a day or so. Perhaps the portal still works, without the arch. I could ask around."

"No! Don't!" Harry cried animatedly. "Hermione said there are all sorts of dangers waiting in that world for her. It's not safe to go back there just now."

"She told you that?" Sirius queried. "What did she say, exactly?"

"Oh, nothing specific," Harry replied. "Just that the Church are really powerful there. And they persecute the occult, and people who practise it. I'm sure a child-witch would be a ripe target for those people. No, she's safer here. Leave her be, please?"

"Alright, Harry," Sirius promised faithfully. "But if the Magisterium are really that interested in her, we need to take precautions here, too."

Harry felt a sort of cold dread fall onto his shoulders. "Here? How can they be here?"

The adults in the room all exchanged dark looks. Harry scowled as he interpreted the loaded meanings passing between them.

"You know?" Harry hissed at his father. "About that world? About the dangers it poses to Hermione?"

James nodded firmly. "From what Sirius told us about it," he explained. "We've been trying to get up to speed."

"And Lyra and Malcolm have been helping us," Lily added bluntly. "We've met them several times now."

Harry gasped aloud. "You've met Hermione's guardians? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't want to distract you from your studies," Lily answered plainly. "Or Hermione from hers. You two seem joined at the hip enough as it is. This is something for us adults to deal with, not for you to worry about."

"My best friend is in danger!" Harry shrieked. "Of course I'm going to worry about it! But I might not have worried so much if I knew you were taking care of it."

"We are taking care of it," James assured him.

"And Lyra is helping us," Sirius added. "As soon as we convinced her not to garotte me on sight, she came right around!"

Harry was disarmed by Sirius' jokey expression. He was a sucker for it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say that Lyra and I have a ... well ... interesting past."

Harry blinked as he tried to absorb that. "You ... know Lyra?"

Sirius grinned down at him. "I do. Quite intimately, actually. Or her intimate parts, at least."

"Eww, minging!" Harry retorted, heaving at the notion. "But how? And I mean, how did you meet her? Keep your sordid stories to yourself."

"When I followed Tom Riddle into that world," Sirius explained, sitting and crossing one knee over the other. "I was injured and a witch-clan took me in, nursed me to health. But I was there so long that my own dæmon started to fight to get out of me. To become like Papageno is to Hermione. It was quite a breathtakingly uncomfortable process. But witches in that world do it all the time.

"What they needed was a human who could understand me better. Luckily, Lyra is a famous personality in that world. She'd Separated from her dæmon - meaning they can go great distances from each other. Normally a human and dæmon cant go more than a few feet from each other before it becomes excruciatingly painful for both.

"So Lyra came to meet me, then agreed to show me around her world, for I was fascinated by it and in no hurry to return home. Besides, Lyra Belacqua is a beautiful and passionate woman, and we shared an instant attraction to explore that passion."

"Sirius, tread carefully," Lily warned.

"Sorry, Lil," Sirius grinned at her. "Anyway, Lyra and I were