Denizen

A/N: I want to express my gratitude for those that left reviews, favorites, and follows.

A Potter Affair

1

He was cold. And though conversations whispered past him, he couldn't make sense of any of them. It was like trying to understand a witch or wizard who didn't speak the same language – a language barrier some called it. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that the Hogwarts Express was sleeping before him like a giant serpent. Disoriented, he looked around and saw that he was on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The doors of the steam engine were open as passengers, all dolled up in expensive-looking robes, boarded. However, he found this a bit odd being that he had never actually seen adults embark on the train before, only students attending Hogwarts for the upcoming term. Of course, in his third year, Lupin took the Hogwarts Express and there was always the witch who manned the food trolley. He thought about Lupin and the trolley witch. He remembered that it was Hermione who recognized Lupin by the name on his case, and he considered buying Sean a huge stack of Cauldron Cakes because why not? However, it was then that he realized Hermione and Sean weren't with him.

Harry stood to his feet quickly, vacating the foreign bench he had been sitting on, and scanned the crowded platform. Faces stared back at him, those he didn't recognize. A group of fancily-dressed women nearby looked scandalized when he fixated on them. All he was doing was trying to find a trace of the bushy mane he normally associated Hermione with, or the cowlick that stood up at the back of Sean's head. Though what Sean would be doing with a group of older women he didn't quite know. The supposed leader of their pack bent her head forward toward the rest of the herd, whispering a tale Harry wasn't meant to hear, before she straightened her shoulders and led them away from him. The leader shot him one last look of disgust over her shoulder as they moved farther down the platform. He looked down the other way and saw that a crowd had gathered around two women. He started to make his way there when he heard his name called aloud.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?" He turned around only to be ambushed by a troop of redheads with Ginny in the lead. He was so taken aback at seeing her that he was momentarily lost for words. He last remembered her comforting a little girl that had lost her mum just outside of Hogwarts. It was when he was headed to the Forbidden Forest where he thought he was going to die at the hands of Voldemort and the Elder Wand. It was right before he used the Resurrection Stone, actually. He wanted to find Hermione badly, and Sean too. For some reason, he felt sick without them.

"Where've you been?" Ginny asked.

"What d'you mean?" he said, and leaned back, trying to fend off her lips. They were currently scavenging dangerously close to his own. It was then that he noticed she was wearing a deep red cloak, it shimmering with pricey filaments, while the fur of what looked like came from the body of a fox was draped over her shoulders. Heavy makeup glossed her face while her long hair was draped over her shoulder like a silky waterfall. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Leave him alone," Ron said, pushing his sister roughly out of the way. She looked affronted at this and stamped on his toe. He howled, and hopped on one foot. "What was that for?" he asked, glaring at her.

"You didn't give me much time with Harry," she told him savagely. "Next time you do that, I'll make sure you never come to one of these again."

"One of these again?" Harry asked, confused. "Where are we going?"

"Stop acting like you don't know," Ginny snapped. Harry was briefly thrown off guard by her harsh attitude. She seemed to sense this before she said rather stiffly, "Sorry, but my brother can be the biggest prat sometimes."

Ron ignored this as he said, "You look just as good as me, mate!" Seeing him wearing what closely resembled a Muggle tuxedo complete with its own bow tie, Harry looked down and saw that he was wearing the same thing. The only distinguishable feature was that Ron's suit was painted maroon, while Harry's was black. "I'll tell you though that I can't wait to get out of this damned thing." He tugged at his collar. "It's choking me to death!"

"Oh, please," Ginny scoffed, her arms lost somewhere in her coat. "It's not like you dress up all that much anyway!"

As Ron retorted with a fair amount of rude language, Harry looked behind them and saw the rest of the Weasleys. They were all palming down their posh clothing, with the women putting on an extra coat of makeup or fixing their pulchritudinous-styled hair. He was then surprised to see Luna bringing up the caboose, the only non-redhead besides himself mixed in amongst the Weasley mob. She was powdering her cheeks, and white clouds fogged her face. After she was done, she hurried away from them as if she found them all a bit boring.

"Have either of you seen Hermione?" Harry asked, interrupting Ginny who had opened her mouth in what he assumed was going to be a verbal assault on Ron. He then saw her eyes skirt downward and stare at the foot of her brother that she hadn't stomped on yet.

His question seemed to have axed the animosity between Ron and Ginny because they traded uncomfortable glances with each other. Ron was the one to answer with, "Well, I guess she'd be with your dad, wouldn't she? She's only been his arm candy for the last ten years or so."

Harry staggered backwards when Ron told him this. Had he heard him right? His dad was alive? Then it him so hard that Harry was forced backwards again: It's James that's the problem. That was what Mr Lovegood said before he traveled into the alternate reality. It's James that's the problem. He wondered since his dad was alive now, did that mean his mum was too? Mr Lovegood didn't mention his mum at all but he guessed (hoped) that she must be as well.

"Harry, are you alright?" came Ginny's voice. It sounded very far away. "You look a little pale."

"I should've known my dad was alive," he heard himself say. And like Ginny's voice, his own sounded pretty distant.

"Maybe we should sit him down." Harry thought that that voice sounded similar to Ron's but he wasn't absolutely sure of it.

"Don't be daft!" That definitely came from Ginny. "The train's about to leave! We can't miss it!"

"He looks ready to pass out." Ron sounded nervous.

"Here, you take one arm and I'll take the other. He'll come back to his senses soon enough."

Harry felt himself being lifted off his feet though his mind was somewhere in the exosphere, floating, and wondering how he could've forgotten the piece of news that his dad was alive. It was true that he should've known being that Mr Lovegood did practically tell him about his dad, and even though Mr Lovegood wasn't in the most stable state of mind, why would he claim that a dead man, his dad in this case, was the problem? And yes, his dad was apparently the problem instead of being a problem.

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express blared loudly across the platform while smoke rose like a thick grey column out of it. Ron and Ginny lead him forward while voices carried all around him. Harry didn't recognize any of these though he really wasn't in any condition to anyway. He was then rushed, rather roughly, into a compartment and the door slid closed.

He blinked several times, bringing into focus Ron and Ginny across from him. They had weird looks on their faces and Harry felt like an outcast because of it. He was definitely disoriented since coming into the alternate reality and he supposed that it was mainly because Hermione and Sean were missing. He hoped they were somewhere on the train because he'd go to them the first opportunity he got. Of course, he now had an idea of where Hermione was (She's only been his arm candy for the last ten years or so), but there weren't any clues about Sean. What really bothered him though was why would Hermione be with his dad? Something must've happened between them and he made sure to find out what it was.

"You feel okay?" someone asked him. He didn't feel like replying so he didn't. However, someone began to shake him roughly when he didn't respond.

"Ron, don't be so rough with him!" Ginny was looking at her brother, scandalized.

"I'm okay," he heard himself say. "I'm fine." As the train lurched forward, he asked, "Where're we going anyway?" He realized that when he first asked this back on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, no one answered him.

Before either of them could say anything, the compartment door slid open and Luna entered, her face a mask of white powder. Harry thought that she looked like a ghost.

"Ah, Harry!" she exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. She sat down next to him, invading his personal space, and leaned against him, her midnight blue robes greeting his legs. "As always, you look rather dashing!" She gifted him a smile that was rumored with lust, and looked up at him through heavily-lidded eyes. She was acting much unlike her usual curious self. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. This was an alternate reality and because of this, everyone was sure to be different here than they were back home. He then wondered what happened to Mr Lovegood who insisted he had to stay behind. He hoped he was alright.

Out of the blue, Luna reached out her hand and touched Harry's thigh. Her fingers then began to spider-crawl up his leg and towards his groin. Ginny suddenly coughed loudly in her hand, making Luna stop her voyage of inching closer to his privates. To be honest, Harry was startled at this, and moved away from Luna lest she try to do anything else. He looked over at Ginny who was staring venomously over at them.

"I just saw your mother, Harry," she said nonchalantly. "She's a couple of compartments down."

His breath hitched in this throat. So his mum and dad were both alive then! Happiness sprouted deep inside him. And that meant that Hermione was nearby because she was with his dad, and his dad was obviously with his mum. That was good, very good. He'd excuse himself soon, doing away with Ron's weariness that Harry wasn't right in the head, Ginny's apparent jealously that Luna had sat so close to Harry, and Luna herself from experimenting with Harry's body parts that he told himself was reserved strictly for Hermione.

"She's in a foul mood though," she continued.

"She didn't have a run-in with James, did she?" Ron asked.

Before Luna could answer, Harry interrupted. "Hang on," and he held up one of his hands like a Muggle stop sign. "My mum and dad aren't together?"

"Are you feeling alright?" Luna asked. She put her hand against his forehead, feeling his body temperature. "You are a bit warm," and she clicked her tongue. "Don't worry though. We'll get a Pepperup Potion from the infirmary." She then took out a compact disk from inside her robes, and began powdering her neck. "Anyway, it wasn't James that she ran into. It was Hermione!"

Ron went wide-eyed, while Ginny gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Did they staring Hexing each other?" Ron pressed.

"No, Lily just ignored her. Hermione, on the other hand, looked a little confused," Luna shrugged. "But a lot of people were egging them on to start brawling, the Muggle way too! I mean, I wouldn't have minded myself to see them go at it. It would've been front-page news of the Quibbler." She then giggled to herself.

"What's going on with Hermione?" Harry asked. He was becoming increasingly uncertain that something was definitely wrong about the whole situation.

Ron and Ginny avoided his eyes but that was okay since Luna said, "Like you have to ask! She's only having an affair with your father!"

Harry stilled. Was Luna off her rocker? Was this some kind of sick joke they were playing on him. If it was, he'd Hex them into oblivion.

"You don't remember, do you?" she gathered when looking at him. "I don't blame you. It was such a huge scandal when the Daily Prophet broke the news that the Minister for Magic had a mistress! And the fact that his mistress was the Head Healer of St Mungo's…well, it was shocking to say the least! Besides-,"

But Harry didn't hear the rest of what Luna had to say. Instead, he charged out of the compartment and went looking for Hermione.

2

The last thing Sean heard before going into the purple ring was Hermione's scream, and Merlin could she. However, besides his ears ringing because of it, he didn't feel anything else. He opened his eyes, fully expecting Harry and Hermione to be right behind him, and perhaps they'd still be on the broomstick. Thus, he was surprised when they weren't anywhere nearby. In fact, there wasn't much of anyone nearby besides himself and-

"Candy Floss?" he asked. "I thought you were going to stay behind?"

"Excuse you, but my name is not Candy Floss," the man who closely resembled Candy Floss said stiffly, turning his nose in the air. The purple turban on his head almost slipped off when he did this.

"Then who are you?"

Fixing his turban, he said, "I am Xenophilius Lovegood of the Inner Eye, Possessed by the Second Sight, and Seer of Highly Magical Witches and Wizards." He squared his shoulders pompously when he finished.

Sean thought that no matter which reality Candy Floss existed in, he was still a bit unbalanced as an actual human being. But, back in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Candy Floss had been wearing a nightshirt with a large strain on it. Now, Candy Floss of the Inner Eye had robes woven of fine gold. This made Sean think of the gold horn atop of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack's head and Candy Floss of the Inner Eye's turban closely resembled its fur.

"Where are we?" was Sean's next question. He looked around and saw black curtains had jailed them: they draped the room's sole door and only window.

"The Hogwarts Express, youngling," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye replied.

Sean repeated this in his head before he asked, "I'm going to Hogwarts?"

"No, just you," and Candy Floss of the Inner Eye shook his head softly from side to side. "But all of us are."

"Who's all of us?"

"Why everyone on the train!" he replied, stretching his arms wide. His gold robe spread out like wings on either side of him, making him look like an owl.

"So right now we're in-,"

"An individual carriage of ours," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye finished for him. "A Seer as great as I am really shouldn't fiddle with the common folk. It might damage my aura."

"What's an aura?"

"Something you wouldn't be able to understand," he waved away.

"You know, my mum says that you're nothing but an old fraud." Sean surprised himself by saying this but it had just slipped out of him. It was then that his memories came flooding back to him like a raging ocean tide. His mind resembled that of a sandcastle, and soon it was underwater as he remembered everything he couldn't before. It was surprising to say the least, and so strong that Sean collapsed against the back of his seat, panting like a thirsty dog on a hot summer day. He was trying to take it all in but he saw the grey splotches appear at the corner of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to shrink them instead of allowing the grey splotches to grow larger. And after a moment, they faded away though Sean was still reeling.

"I assume that your mother is not privy to the knowledge that your father paid me a visit before you were born," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said. "He paid me handsomely too! As it is, it does not bother me in the slightest that some consider me to be a hoax of some kind. But the Inner Eye sees all!"

Sean barely heard him. Instead, he was thinking about his mum and dad, both of whom he saw clearly in his head: his mum with her curly, wild hair and bossy attitude; his dad with his wild, jet-black hair, the glasses he wore on his face, and carefree personality. At times, his parents were the complete opposite of each other. At other times, his parents were exactly the same. But what was the most obvious to him was that his parents were completely and hopelessly in love. And Sean adored the both of them.

"I have to go see them!" he exclaimed, standing to his feet. His hands were balled into small fists beside him, determined. "I have to go see my mum and dad!"

"Now wait just a minute," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said. "You should know better than that to simply charge into your parents' carriage! They're on about important matters concerning the community!"

Oh, yes, Sean thought. The Adult Conversation.

You'd be so bored by all of it, his mum told him once.

Ministry affairs, that's all it is. You'll be old enough one day to understand, his dad would insert right after.

"Where are they?" Sean asked. "I want to see them."

"Sit down, youngling," Candy Floss of the Inner Eyes told him, unperturbed. "When we get to Hogwarts, you'll have plenty of time with them."

Sean reluctantly listened to him, grumbling as he took to his seat. He supposed Candy Floss of the Inner Eye was right because even though he missed his parents very much in the time he was away from them, they were sure to be unbothered by the fact that their son wanted to see them, especially since they were participating in the Adult Conversation. Only a death of someone on the train would bring them out of their carriage to investigate, and Sean was no killer. He didn't even have a wand, for Merlin's sake! Though Candy Floss of the Inner Eye was just as infuriating to deal with as Candy Floss himself.

"Why are we going to Hogwarts, anyway?"

Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said, "Oh, that's right! This is the first time it's being held!"

"What's being held?"

Instead of answering him, Candy Floss of the Inner Eye muttered, "I can't say I agree with your parents to bring you along. Hogwarts isn't really appropriate for children."

"What's happening at Hogwarts?" Sean asked.

"Nothing you should be concerned about," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said.

"You can't leave it at that!" Sean returned, outraged. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Because I'm not in much of a position to tell you."

"But you know what's going on?"

"Of course I do," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye scoffed. "According to the Ministry, everyone that's of age must attend! To skip it would mean heavy taxes and time in Azkaban!"

"You mean Azkaban prison?"

"Luckily someone of my standing is being paid to attend to go instead of being forced into it," Candy Floss continued as if he hadn't heard him. "Yes, I expect to be crystal gazing quite a lot this weekend! And I'll do it for a small fee, too!" He then threw his head back and laughed manically.

Sean watched him as he did this, his arms folded over his chest. He was unimpressed by this version of Candy Floss much like he was unimpressed by the original one too. Of course, both of them were completely different, not that that helped matters any. At least Candy Floss of the Inner Eye wasn't going on about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Sean had enough of that before.

However, he did remember something he wanted to ask the original Candy Floss but refrained from doing so. Now, though, he needed answers and he believed he might get some of them.

"Does Babies for Britain have anything to do with Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Why is has everything to do with Hogwarts," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said. "Everything!"

"So what does it mean?"

"Exactly what it says," he answered. "Babies for Britain."

"I don't understand," Sean shook his head. "Why would Britain need babies?"

"Because every jurisdiction the Ministry of Magic has power over is in short supply of them!"

"No one has babies anymore?"

"Well, some do but it's far, far too small a number," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said. "In fact, we're falling behind other magical communities across the world in terms of population! That is just unacceptable!"

"So, everyone's going to Hogwarts to do…," and here, Sean gulped. "That?" of which he whispered.

"Yes," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye nodded. "That."

Sean was mortified as he felt his face flame. Candy Floss of the Inner Eye didn't notice this as he was busy examining his fingernails, frowning as he did so. That was what Babies for Britain meant then? Even though he didn't understand its significance when it first popped into his head, he now remembered hearing it when his mum and dad were involved in the Adult Conversation. He had tiptoed down the hall and over to their room one night, pressing his ear against the door. It was far past his bedtime so he was unconcerned that his parents put up any wards to block him from listening in to what they were saying. And yes, Babies for Britain was exchanged between them quite a bit. Neither of them had liked the sound of it very much, but they believed that such measures were necessary. At the time, Sean didn't know what these types of measures were, but now that he did, he was horrified.

"Was it my dad who thought of Babies for Britain?"

"Oh, no, not him," Candy Floss of the Inner Eye said. "It was the Wizengamot."

"What's that?" Sean heard the term passed around a lot at the dinner table, but no one bothered to explain what it was. When things were part of the Adult Conversation, they were rarely explained to those who weren't adults themselves.

"The Wizengamot is the High Wizard Court of Law. They voted and passed a proposal called the British Family Planning Initiative. Babes for Britain is a petty slogan used as a marketing tool for couples to have babies every year from now on at Hogwarts to increase the birth rate comparable to other magical communities around the world."

"Does England have the lowest?"

Candy Floss of the Inner Eye shrugged as if the matter didn't bother him. Afterwards, he peeked behind the black curtain that covered the window and said, "We're probably about halfway there now."

"If the Wizengamot voted and passed the proposal for the British Family Planning Initiative, does that mean that they also came up with it?" Sean asked.

"Well, they didn't come up with directly-,"

"But you just said they did," Sean cut across.

Candy Floss of the Inner Eye turned sour at this. Pursing his lips, he retorted, "They just as well may have!"

"So who came up with it?" Sean asked.

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack, of course! Who else would you think would come up with a proposition, youngling?"

Sean groaned aloud at this, rolling his eyes. Apparently Sean had been a bit silly when he felt relieved that Candy Floss of the Inner Eye wasn't going on about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. All he had to do was wait a couple of minutes before that subject matter was touched on again. And it really was too bad because he was beginning to believe that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack didn't even exist.

"What was that for?" Candy Floss of the Inner asked, glaring at him.

"You don't think the Crumple-Horned Snorkack is real, do you?"

His eyes grew wide at this while he sputtered for words that were lost and he was trying to find. His finger was pointed at Sean as if he was accusing him of a heinous crime. Sean thought that Candy Floss of the Inner Eye actually looked pretty funny then, and would've laughed if he wasn't so annoyed that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack had been brought up again.

"Of course it exists!" Candy Floss of the Inner Eye finally managed. He didn't seem to notice that his turban was slipping off his head again. "How dare you even speak such blasphemy, you evil little child! Begone!" and he flapped his hands at him. "Take your profaneness elsewhere!"

Since he didn't need to be told twice, Sean got up and left.

3

James Potter never wanted to be the Minister for Magic. After all, he wasn't that proficient in such affairs, and it never interested him in the slightest. If you asked him what he really wanted to do with this life, well, that was pretty easy to answer: Quidditch. He was a brilliant Chaser, or so he'd been told many times over, and believed he'd make a fine addition to any professional Quidditch team. Yet, the good witches and wizards of England didn't want him to have anything to do with professional Quidditch (or Quidditch in general for that matter), and that is why they voted him into office as their Minister for Magic. He accepted the position mainly because it would've been like a slap to the face to those that elected him if he didn't. And he was grateful for the fact that the public had thought to make him Minister for Magic even with the little experience he had in government affairs. He figured he was popular with them, but wasn't sure why he was. Lily told him it was because witches fancied him, and that might've been it: a majority of them overwhelming voted for him versus his opponent who was a balding wizard nearing the century mark in his life.

So, James decided to accept the Minister's position as a prize that the witches and wizards of England gave him, and tried his best to remain optimistic when he assumed the role. And in the beginning, it was kind of easy. He had a grand old time introducing himself to the Muggle Prime Minister (and even brought a book of Quidditch to show him – and yes, the Muggle Prime Minister was fascinated with it and with magic as a whole), and liked hosting galas to support the expansions of Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and St Mungo's. And such galas worked quite magnificently: Diagon Alley had more than twice as many businesses as before, Hogsmeade (and Hogwarts by extension) was currently being fashioned as a holiday retreat for couples, and St Mungo's was able to expand all the wards the hospital had available, and even open the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward. Lily stood firmly by his side as a lovely wife, and Harry had been born early on into James' term. Yet, afterwards was when everything changed.

Hermione Granger, a bird he knew his son fancied, invited him to tour the growth St Mungo's had had because of the gala event he hosted for the hospital. As Head Healer, she was ecstatic with him and the increase St Mungo's underwent. Upon meeting her, he gathered that she was pretty and made a mental note to talk to Harry later when he got home to pick her up fast or else someone else would surely beat him to it.

She told him the basics each ward they went down, and he was surprised to find himself quite enthralled by her. She was extremely intelligent about hospital proceedings, showed compassion to patients who summoned all of their strength to venture out of their rooms just to shake the hand of the Minister for Magic, and was humbled about how quickly she became Head Healer of St Mungo's. Did he already mention that she was pretty too? Also, she was a Muggle-born just like his wife though that didn't really mean anything to him. However, it was their visit to the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward where things between them shifted that brought them to where they were now. And he remembered it very clearly.

4

Healer Granger looked in the front window of the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward, and James stood close by her. Inside, about a dozen or so kids, high on their own energy, ran around the room like pint-sized lunatics, screaming all the air out of their little lungs. Various toys were broadcasted across the carpeted floor, while several Healers tended to those who demanded their attention. James saw some kids coloring on the wall, their small hands balled around a bouquet of crayons, while another had his head stuck in the rollercoaster wires of a bead maze. Two other kids were climbing in a dustbin and a third stood on a nearby tray table and looked to cannonball in after them. The room itself was large, more so than most of the other newly-expanded wards of St Mungo's, while cots, each with its own curtain partition, lined the back wall.

"I come up here once a day and visit the children," Healer Granger said fondly. "They always like a visitor."

"Think they ever got tired of each other?" he asked.

"I'm sure every now and then they do," she nodded. "But they haven't any families."

"So how do they end up here?"

"We usually receive reports about children wandering around by themselves. And after checking the Records Book of Records to see if they have any family willing to take them in, we place them here waiting for pickup or to stay."

"Permanently?"

"Well, up until they're of age. I'm considering setting up a program to help them find suitable jobs after they complete their education."

"Are you planning on bringing in professors to help them?" James asked her.

"Of course," she said.

"If you need any assistance with funding, I could help out," he offered.

Healer Granger smiled at him and he thought that it made her look even more beautiful, something he didn't know was at all possible. It was then that he felt like pleasing her to the best of his abilities, and hosting another gala in support of the children at St Mungo's seemed to be the way to go about it. As long as he got to see her smile again.

"That's very nice of you," she said.

"It's my job," he shrugged.

She paused and then asked, "Do you really like what you do?"

He was surprised at this, and guessed that it showed on his face.

"I'm sorry if that was personal," she said quickly. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No," and he shook his head. "It's just that no one's ever asked me that before. I guess people just assume that I like being Minster."

"So you don't like it?"

He thought about this for a moment and then answered, "There are some things that I like, and some things that I don't. I'm pretty sure that's with every job though." This made her laugh, and he was happy he could do that to her. He decided that since he gave her a bit of freedom in prying into his personal life, she'd afford the same to him. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. "You're friends with my son, Harry, right?"

She looked at him and said, "I don't know if I'd consider him a friend. He was a classmate of mine at Beauxbatons. That's it." She rubbed her hands down her arms as if she was trying to get rid of a skeleton of gooseflesh and asked, "What's he doing now, by the way?"

"He's an Auror at the Ministry."

"Do you see him every day?"

"Sometimes," he nodded. "But he has his own group that he prefers to be around more."

"I take it that you don't mind that."

James shrugged. "I'm busy as Minster."

"Am I keeping you?" Hermione said, troubled. "If you have other things to do, please don't feel like you have to stay."

"Not at all," he replied. "My schedule's cleared for the rest of the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely," he said. This wasn't particularly true as he was due for a meeting with his Support Staff on the matters of demographics. But that meeting could wait because he simply wanted to spend more time with Healer Granger. She had since taken back to the kids in the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward. "You have any of your own?" he asked her, pointing a finger.

"No," she said. "I'm not even married."

James was pleased to hear this. But instead of telling her that he was pleased she wasn't married, he said, "You don't have to be married to have kids."

"I know that, but it's kind of like an assumption many people have."

"Do you have that same assumption?"

She shrugged. "I actually never really thought about it. If the right person came along then whatever happens happens."

James found that he actually liked that carefree attitude she possessed. It was attractive in its own way. Sure, he was married and had a kid, and it was fully expected of him to do so, not only as a wizard with a family, but perhaps more importantly, as the Minister for Magic with a family. He actually wanted more kids, but Lily's seat on the International Confederation of Wizards prevented this from happening for more than seventeen years. She traveled a lot and sometimes he went weeks without seeing her. She was currently in Liechtenstein over the legalization of troll hunting.

"Look at them," Healer Granger said, her hand on his arm. He tried to ignore the jolt of electricity that shot up his shoulder, but he couldn't (and didn't really want to either). She was focused on two children having a go at a tug-of-war over a book. However, his attention was focused on the boy behind them who had managed to get himself a broomstick. He stood on a chair and was sweeping the ceiling with it. James watched him and thought to himself, The ceiling never be too clean, can it?

"Did you want to go in for a bit?" he asked her.

"We can't," and she shook her head. "I know you're much too busy. Besides-,"

"Healer Granger!" a muffled voice interrupted her. James saw that it was an elderly Healer from inside the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward that had called her. She opened the door and said, "We didn't expect a visit from you until much later! And look, you brought the Minister for Magic with you!" This caught the kid's attention for they mobbed the door, pushing the Healer out of the way. They then all but dragged Healer Granger in. She reached back, grabbed James' hand, and towed him along with her. Once inside, the kids surrounded them like a rioting crowd would for a burning at the stake.

A little girl with pigtails came up behind Hermione and said, "I can do puzzles! Let me show you!" She wore a large smile.

However, the boy who had swept the ceiling before charged over, and after sweeping the girl's face with the broomstick, said, "I can clean! Let me show you!"

As the girl with pigtails began to undergo a sneezing attack, twin boys off to the side said, "We can spell our names backwards! Let us show you!"

When one of the Healers of the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward saw James, she fainted onto the floor, nearly flattening several kids in the process. However, the elderly Healer didn't pay any attention to this for she shouted, "Dylan, get down from there, you devil child!" James and Healer Granger looked above them and were shocked to find a young boy had accomplished in climbing atop of a light fixture that hung from the ceiling. The light fixture itself housed a tribe of candles as the boy had already stuffed a candle in his left and right ear, and was in the process of sticking another one up his nose.

"James, get him," Healer Granger said with worry, placing a hand on his back.

He reached up and easily grabbed hold of the boy, gently taking the candles out of his ears and the one in his hand. When he set him back on the floor, the boy sprinted away as if he was being chased by the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. James then realized Healer Granger had called him by his first name. He didn't mind this, and actually preferred it. He assumed this gave him the freedom to call Healer Granger by her first name now.

"How is it that they have so much energy?" he asked. The kids still circled around them, the majority still trying to get Hermione's attention.

"Because they're children," Hermione replied simply. "Minister, this is Healer Pearl, head of the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward." He shook hands with her at Hermione's introduction.

"How do you keep up with all these kids?" he asked her.

"Oh, it's most certainly a challenge, Minister," Healer Pearl giggled lightly. He tried not to feel annoyed by this though many witches he happened upon giggled like Healer Pearl. Hermione was one of the few, if not only, that didn't. "But someone has to look after these poor little ones," she continued, tucking a grey strand of hair behind one of her ears.

"These all orphans, then?"

"Yes," she nodded. "We've sixteen children here. The youngest is two, that's Matilda over there." She nodded at the two-year-old Matilda who was trying to work her way into opening a Chocolate Frog. "The oldest is Isaac and he's eight. I'm just not sure where that boy got off to." Healer Pearl looked around her only to be distracted with Dylan trying to climb up to the light fixture again. "I'm afraid some these children are looking a bit peaky, but that'll be fixed shortly."

"What does that mean?" James asked.

"Healer Granger thought it'd be better for the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward to move up to the fifth floor," Healer Pearl said. "This room here was originally meant to serve as an addition to the Janus Thickey Ward but they didn't have any use for it at the time. So when these children became parentless, it was decided we could use the room as overflow. It was always meant to be a temporary placement, mind you, because these children need to be outside sometimes. And, we can't very well go frolicking in Muggle London as some children are already exhibiting magical aptitude!"

"So the fifth floor allows you some outside freedom?" James asked.

"We have direct access to the rooftop from the fifth floor, Minister!" she answered. "As it is, I could also use the fresh air. You see, at my age, being holed up all day isn't ideal."

"You still look to be in good health," Hermione said.

"That's very sweet of you, but when you both turn ninety-three, perhaps you'll understand, then."

"I'm on my way there, already," James said, and Healer Pearl giggled again.

Suddenly, loud screams were heard around them. Hermione saw the little girl with pigtails had wrestled the broom away from the boy who swept the ceiling and was repeatedly whacking him over the head with it. The Healer who had fainted before was busy tending to other children.

"Those two again!" Healer Pearl cried. "They're always at each other's throats!" Turning to James and Hermione, she said quickly, "Well, I'm delighted you had time to stop by Healer Granger! And I'm sure the children felt the same. A pleasure it was to meet you, Minister!" She did a funny little curtsey and excused herself afterwards, rushing over to the kids.

"What a fascinating place," James said, watching the boy and girl in a tight scuffle, the broom now forgotten on the floor. They knocked into one girl who bounced against one wall, and then into Healer Pearl who reached out and grabbed the light fixture Dylan had once again climbed on top of to keep from falling over. Several candles wobbled before they forward-flipped down onto the head of a small boy.

"Dylan, you get down from there this instant!" she shrieked once she had noticed him.

"I said the same thing after my first visit," Hermione replied.

5

And James never stopped visiting the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward even though his job as Minister became more demanding. On the plus side, Hermione always came with him. He told himself that he needed an outlet to go with the stress the position the Minister for Magic was typically slaved under, and the Dilys Derwent Children's Ward (and Hermione) was the perfect escape. The media adored his stopovers as did the public. It was during this time that the Daily Prophet reported record-high approval ratings for him. And while that was nice, he didn't really pay much attention to those numbers. All he really could pay any attention to was Hermione.

Sure, there was a nineteen year age gap between them (and that's not including the fact that she was an acquaintance of Harry's at Beauxbatons), but he couldn't stop thinking about her. He guessed that he was attracted to Hermione for the same reasons that Harry was. And yes, it was a little strange to be obsessed with someone who was so much younger than him, but life is funny sometimes, and feelings were even funnier. Nothing had to make sense for them to work their own bit of magic, and he assumed it was that bit of magic that made Hermione an attractive option for him to pursue. And pursue he did.

It was six months after their initial Dilys Derwent Children's Ward visit when they first had been together. Both had considered it an accident. It had been a brutal winter, and they were both cold. The second time Hermione regarded as an accident, though James was much less sure of the fact. It happened over the summer, another six months after their first. James and Hermione were stressed and starved for physical attention. The third time was the most prominent in that James and Hermione had met in Paris. James was meeting the French Minister for Magic, and Hermione was visiting her parents. They shared a bed that night at The Peninsula Paris, and decided not to use any protection. To put it simply, they decided to gamble with fate to see what came out of it. Neither James nor Hermione thought it an accident.

Afterwards, James and Hermione saw each other often, and kept their affair a secret. That is until fate decided to play its own hand in the relationship by having Hermione become pregnant. Of course, it was technically James that did it, but it was also James who chose not to use any protection and convinced Hermione of it too. Nine months later, Sean came into the picture, Lily found out about their affair, and birth rates in England plummeted.

6

Hermione rushed into the loo, locking the door behind her. She turned on the tap and splashed a wave of water across her face. She was breathing fast, and tried her best to remain calm. Gripping the edge of the basin so hard that her knuckles turned white, she felt like she was going to be sick. To fend off this terrible feeling inside her, she closed her eyes. She felt herself swaying from side to side, but didn't have any fear of falling over. The sink was her anchor, and a damn good one at that. The thought of fainting, however, did occur to her, and she supposed that if she did happen to succumb to a bout of sudden blackout, she'd surprise the next bathroom visitor. She could only hope that the witch or wizard who happened upon her could cast a successful Reviving Spell to wake her back up.

Slowly but surely, the feeling of nausea ebbed away from her, and her hold on the sink considerably lessened. The threat of fainting also passed as did the possibility of her being sick. She opened her eyes and threw more water across her face. She didn't exactly know why she kept doing this, but it was really the only thing that came to her. She shook her head slightly as if trying to rid it of cobwebs that had strung themselves inside, free of charge, mind you, and began reciting the Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood. Afterwards, she thought about the wizard Ivor Dillonsby who claimed that he had already discovered eight uses of dragon's blood, and that Dumbledore had borrowed his notes and completed the remaining four. Rita Skeeter even dedicated a whole chapter to it in her book, detailing how Dumbledore was an extremely skilled Legilimens and how'd it be easy for him to extract such information from Ivor Dillonsby's mind.

Hermione turned to leave the loo, but stopped herself from doing so. Just before she came in, she had a rather unfortunate encounter with Harry's mum, Lily. Of course, at the time, she didn't really know who she was (though she looked vaguely familiar) until a gang of witches and wizards surrounded them on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and chanted for them to start a duel with each other. Bets were being discussed on who'd come out on top (if she remembered correctly, it was a pretty even split), and there was an audible groan when Lily turned on her heel and marched the other way, not caring to look back at her. That was when whispers plagued Hermione as she stood in the middle of a crowd that, for some reason, refused to disperse. She didn't hear much of these whispers as she was at a complete loss of she was doing on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Although, James' mistress was the most popular choice that was being thrown around like rice at a wedding. Thus, to avoid a possible human slaughter, of which she was sure was going to be of her as those who preferred James' mistress looked at her savagely, she ran onto the Hogwarts Express, and thought she might've seen Luna right before she got on, though she wasn't completely sure of the fact.

Turning to the face the mirror, Hermione stopped short upon seeing herself: she was wearing blood-red robes that looked far more expensive than she could ever hope to buy, while her hair was sleek and shiny, tied into a modish knot at the back of her head. (She vaguely wondered how many jars of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment had been used to tame the monstrosity atop her head.) Scarlet shadowed her eyes, her cheeks were the color of fresh strawberries, and her lips were full and red. Ruby diamond earrings hung like teardrops from both her ears, and a matching necklace collared her neck. To put it simply, she looked striking, more so than she ever felt before. The closest to dressing up as she was now was for the Yule Ball. But even then, she hadn't looked as good. However, she didn't really know what was going on except for the fact that she was in the alternate reality.

Yes, remembered that perfectly. The Forest of Dean…Hogwarts…Hogsmeade…Diagon Alley…the Ministry of Magic…the Department of Mysteries…the Ever-Locked Room…the Tree of Thought…and the purple ring. Sean had piloted them into a timeline that he was familiar with, yet was unknown to Harry and Hermione. She wondered if they were with her somewhere on the train and resolved to find out. Quite frankly, she needed Harry so they could figure out how to close the alternate reality and get back to where they belonged.

Stepping out of the loo, she saw many witches and wizards had crowded the corridor, and all of them were dressed smartly. Ducking her head to avoid unwanted attention like the type she gathered on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, she discreetly looked into each compartment she passed. Actually, she wasn't able to see inside the first one as a thick black curtain covered whatever was inside. She wrestled with the idea of opening the door anyway just in case, but shook her head against it. She went on, moving from the back of the train to the front, but was unable to find Harry or Sean. She supposed it was entirely possible she had missed them as she really was rushing instead of taking her time in her search, yet figured she could double back if neither one of them turned up.

Hope was draining faster and faster out of her, however, the longer her search went. Surely they would've turned up by now, right? That is, if they were on the train at all. It never occurred to her that she, herself, was on the train while Harry and Sean weren't. It was a presumption on her part, and maybe it was a ridiculous one at that. And if for some reason they weren't on the train with her, desperation would definitely take hold of her. She then mentally scoffed. Who was she kidding? She was already desperate! And upon reaching the front compartment, desperation was nearly flooding right out of her. That was until she looked inside and saw Harry.

She burst in, nearly barreling down the door, and rushed into his arms. He barely had time to get to his feet, and even then, when she crushed herself against him, he lost his balance and they fell against the window. She was laughing at this, any concern she once had had completely exhausted. Now, a certain hopefulness replaced it.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she said, and buried her head into the bend of his neck.

He chuckled and replied, "I'm glad to see you too. I was wondering where you were."

But hearing this, the certain hopefulness that had begun to gather weight was instantly deflated because the person she was holding on to, and the person who was holding her, was not Harry. She knew this as the voices simply didn't match.

She pushed herself out of the arms of the stranger, and was dumbfounded: this man looked exactly like Harry, but wasn't. The untidy black hair almost matched that of Harry's, while the glasses he wore were nearly identical. They both had thin faces, and the same mouths. She guessed they were about the same height too. The stranger was wearing a tie and white dress shirt, bunched at the elbows. His navy pants matched his brown leather shoes. But instead of Harry's green eyes, the stranger's eyes were hazel. And not only that, but the lightning bolt-shaped scar was missing on his head. After seeing Harry's mum out on the platform, she only needed one guess to put a name on this stranger.

"James?"

He smiled brightly at her, his hands on her waist, and attempted to pull her back towards him. He was looking at her like he loved her, and though Hermione was flattered (and confused) at this, she secretly wished it was his son that looked at her that way instead.

"Did anyone give you trouble?" he asked. His eyes were concerned.

"Well, not really, but-,"

"There's a one-way ticket to Azkaban for the poor soul who does," he interrupted.

"I was actually looking for Harry," she said.

"Harry?" he repeated, and hilled a brow at her. "Why?"

Not exactly adept at thinking on her feet, she managed to get out, "I just needed to tell him something."

"A letter wouldn't do?"

"I only remembered this morning," she replied.

"You want me to call Oxy?"

"Who?"

"Our house-elf," he grinned. "Or did you forget we have one of those?"

"We have a house-elf?" Though the situation she was in was currently a mystery, she couldn't help but grow angry at the fact that she owned a house-elf, alternate reality or not.

"Did you want to sit down?" he asked her. "You look a little pale."

"What do we have a house-elf for?" she asked bitterly.

James appeared to be rather shocked. "You said you wanted one."

"That's outrageous!" she exclaimed. "When did I ever say that?"

"To help with the baby," he said.

Hermione felt her eyes bulge at this remark, and automatically looked down at her stomach. "I'm pregnant?" she asked, and placed both of her hands on her abdomen to see if she could feel a heartbeat there. She knew she being ridiculous, but she couldn't help herself.

"Not now, but that's the whole point of this trip," he told her.

"What trip are you talking about?" She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with James even though he was incredibly handsome. She inwardly wished she was having this conversation with Harry instead as having a baby with him made much more sense than having one with James.

"We're on our way to Hogwarts."

"Why?" she asked.

"Let's sit down," he suggested, and he grabbed her hand to pull her down next to him.

"Why are we going to Hogwarts?" she asked again.

"We have to set a good example," he shrugged. "Everyone's going to be looking at us."

"For what?" She was growing frustrated now that he was being so coy.

"To have a baby," he answered.

"A baby?" Hermione was momentarily lost for words. When she regained her composure, she said, "You must be mistaken."

"No, not mistaken," and he shook his head.

"Well, what do we need to have a baby for?"

"Because of the British Family Planning Initiative," he said. "Remember it was passed by the Wizengamot late last year?"

Hermione didn't remember, and knew she never would.

7

Dodging witches and wizards in the corridor, Harry briefly looked in each compartment he rushed past, hoping to find Hermione. Sean would've been a good substitute, and figured that if he did happen to run into him first, they'd go and look for Hermione together. He knew that she had to be somewhere on the train (probably with his dad), and assumed she was just as confused about the whole situation as he was. What they needed to do was regroup, and find out as much as they could about the alternate reality. Maybe in doing so they'd be given some type of hint on how to close it. Sure, it seemed like a long shot, but that was all he had at the moment.

He then wondered what he'd do if he saw his mum. Part of him wanted to stop and talk to her (that is if she wasn't too strung up about running into Hermione), while another part of him wanted to focus on the task at hand. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her (and his dad, too) but figured they wouldn't get answered as the alternate reality was very different from the reality he was originally from. He thought about what Mr Lovegood said in bringing everyone back. Did that mean that there was a possibility to bring his mum and dad back? The mere consideration made him dizzy, and he accidentally ran into an older wizard in doing so. (Watch where you're going, you plonker!)

But he shouldn't worry about that just yet. There were other things that demanded his attention, and finding Hermione was at the top. After mumbling an apology to the older wizard, he continued his search, nearly sprinting by each compartment. You might say that Harry couldn't possibly spot Hermione if he was rushing the way he was, but he knew her like the back of his own hand. He could tell her from a mile away, maybe even two miles away, and figured she could do the same of him. He imagined her trying to process the news that she was having an affair with his dad, because surely she'd have found out by now, right?

Towards the front of the train, Harry just about ran over a witch as she stepped out of her compartment (Hooligan! and he saw her shaking her fist at him) before he stopped short at the first carriage: his twin was inside with Hermione. Er – actually, it was his dad who was inside with Hermione, but for the love of Merlin did they look similar. Harry knew it himself, and didn't need to stand in front of a mirror for assurance. He slid open the door and James and Hermione turned towards him.
James began glowering at him, while relief washed over Hermione's face like sunshine in the morning. She ran towards him, ignoring James' protests not to, and threw her arms around his shoulders. Harry couldn't help but smile, and so he did. He hugged Hermione back as she whispered, "I've been so worried."

"Same," he managed.

After letting her go (even if he didn't really want to), he looked over at his dad whose glower had since become larger than before. Clearly, they had a somewhat strained relationship with each other in the alternate reality. This made him wonder what his relationship with his mum was like. He hoped it was better.

"Don't remember inviting you to join us, Harry," James said.

That stung, he thought.

But before he could say anything, Hermione put in, "Don't you remember that I wanted to tell him something?"

James grumbled savagely before he said, "Well, get on with it, then, and let him get out of here."

"That's no way to talk to your son!" Hermione exclaimed, clearly flabbergasted by James' attitude.

"Don't worry about it," Harry told her. "It's alright."

"No, it's not!" Hermione replied angrily.

James, however, didn't seem to want to stay as he stalked past them, shouldering Harry roughly along the way. "I'll be right outside if you need me," he told Hermione and exited the carriage.

"Really!" Hermione scoffed. "The nerve of him!"

"It's just how it is," Harry told her. "The alternate reality."

"Still! He was horrible to you!"

"I'm positive he wasn't really like that anyway," Harry shrugged.

"I should hope not!"

"Have you seen Sean?"

"No," and she shook her head. "You think he's somewhere on the train?"

"Maybe, but I don't know for sure." Putting his hands in his pockets, he asked, "Do you know where we're going? No one wants to tell me."

"Hogwarts," and Hermione groaned.

"Why?"

"According to James, the Wizengamot passed something called the British Family Planning Initiative," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "He didn't go into details but apparently, we have to have a child together."

At first, Harry didn't really have any reaction to this bit of news because he believed he hadn't heard Hermione right. The British Family Planning Initiative? He had no idea what that was as he never heard of such a thing before. My dad and Hermione have to have a kid together? That couldn't happen, he determined, and he'd do anything to prevent it. Closing the alternate reality was the most obvious choice in avoiding all this. But the riddle Mr Lovegood told them wasn't helpful at all, especially right now. Actually, the riddle itself didn't make any sense – at least to him it didn't. Just as he was about to ask Hermione about it, he heard a familiar voice call out, "Dad!" Over his shoulder, he was surprised to suddenly see Sean jumping into James' arms.

"Is that Sean?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer her. He was too focused on the fact that Sean believed James was his dad. It couldn't be, could it?

"Where's mum?" was Sean's next question after being released from the bear hug his dad gave him.

"In there," James replied, and pointed directly at Hermione.

She gasped loudly as Harry tried to process this. He found out that he wasn't able to. It was confusing, and all very, very wrong. He looked over at Hermione as she asked in a voice that didn't sound at all like her own, "James and I already have a child together?"

"Hermione-," Harry began, but she continued as if she didn't hear him.

"And Sean's ours?"

She gave a funny little laugh as if the whole thing was unbelievable, and then fainted. Luckily, Harry was standing close by to catch her.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And don't worry: this story is strictly devoted to Harry/Hermione to the fullest extent. There'll be one more James/Hermione scene in the next chapter, but afterwards, it'll only be Harry/Hermione. Thanks for reading.