We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree

Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always-
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

- T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

(Almost twenty-one years after Hermione Granger vanished)

.

.

"I know how to get through the barrier, Dad. I've done it loads of times. Come on," Lily Luna huffed, interrupting Harry's big speech about her first day and pushing her trolley ahead of him as she tried to hustle through a crowd of Muggles. Lily's cat hissed in its carrier, which wobbled slightly precariously atop her trunk.

Harry Potter loved and hated the ritual of sending his children off to Hogwarts. Their infectious excitement warred with his own sadness at losing them for months, complicated again by the temporary relief of a peaceful house after a long summer, of having Ginny to himself for once, and the ever-constant anxiety for their safety. But he smiled as he followed his youngest and most precocious child through the brick wall, stepping from one world into another and out into a world of white steam.

The red sign announcing the platform number hadn't changed, it loomed through the vapour confirming that this was indeed Platform 9 ¾. But, the government's mandate that all students travel the same way had: the number of pupils had increased - along with the amount of something called sea sea TV within the station. They said all the Muggles had little cameras now, and they could film something and send it around the world before the Obliviators could turn up. There had been lots of articles about it for a while, before the new measures were brought in. But the platform itself seemed as bustling as it had ever been in his own time. There were several new entrances dotted around London and the South of England, and four other trains departing from around the UK.

Lily had caught up with her brothers - her long red plait swinging as she tried to keep pace with them. She was used to that though, he reflected, and thought fondly that the boys were fairly tolerant of it for the most part.

"There's our little Hufflepuff," James said, but there was never the same sting when he teased Lily, who squealed in unconvincing annoyance.

The wind had cleared the worst of the steam, and it was easy enough to find Ron and his wife Lisa in the crowd. The redhead was less lanky than he'd once been but still one of the tallest men on the platform. Their daughter Rose was a year younger than Albus, and so the cousins had naturally veered between being close friends and sworn enemies for many years. Today was the latter, and they stood ignoring each other as their parents said hello.

"My God," Ginny muttered, turning pale, and staring off about twenty yards down the platform "look who it is."

Harry followed her gaze and there they were, another blast of steam billowing around the family as they headed out of one of the new crossing points. They were half-obscured, and then it cleared.

She was laughing, and for some reason that was the best and worst part of it. He'd imagined her here with them before, of course. Every year, bringing Teddy and then James and Albus and now Lily. She was his only other family and he hadn't laid eyes on her in person for twelve years - until now.

Hermione's arm was around a young dark-haired girl. A boy with similar, startlingly lovely, features was standing close to her. Harry knew they were hers. There was no mistaking it. And then next to them, pushing a trolley of small boxes, was Tom Riddle.

They were still out of earshot, but Harry saw - gut-wrenching in its strangeness - his old enemy say something to his son, sending a smile to light up the boy's face.

Tom Riddle's son looked so much like his father that though Harry could feel Ginny's nails digging into his hand, he couldn't feel the pain of it. The sounds of the platform came back in a rush. He hadn't even realised he'd lost them for a moment.

"What are they doing here?" she hissed to him. "I thought he had to stay on that fucking island."

The dark-haired family stopped near the entrance to the carriage one over from the one their own extended family had occupied.

"His exile's over," Harry realised aloud. "I hadn't even noticed…"

Tom Riddle, or whatever he was called now, had been a free man for two years, almost to the week, and Harry hadn't registered it. He was glad now he'd told Ginny what had happened, swearing his wife to secrecy. He'd been under an unbreakable vow not to of course, but the Ministry hadn't accounted for the depth of prior knowledge she had and he'd found a way around it.

What if the diary-maker was on that island with her? he'd asked Ginny one Sunday morning many years ago and she'd turned confused for a moment and then fearful. I can't explain.

How bad? she'd asked, pale.

I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see.

At least she'd known about them - at least this wasn't the first she'd heard of it.

News of them had filtered in, mostly from Ron, who either didn't know or chose not to see who Hermione had married. Perhaps he really didn't know: he'd never seen Tom Riddle after all, never been taken into the diary.

His reports were mostly positive, mostly of Hermione who he saw through the school and - very occasionally - socially. Time had passed, and George had moved to Iðunna with his family. After that he'd passed on tidbits and morsels too. The Weasleys assumed Hermione's strange life was the reason for her separation - no one knew that she and Harry hadn't spoken in years.

He heard things from other places too. Harry rarely read the papers - he'd never got past his mistrust of them - so mostly looked up articles if they were mentioned to him. Her profile had grown with the influence of her island, though she didn't seem to court attention. Iðunna's early attempts at democracy were picked over and lauded as progressive for the Wizarding World, but there was no mistaking that she was head of state. That coverage too was largely positive - as the Muggle world developed more rapidly than anyone could have imagined, the island had become increasingly attractive to those who were tired of hiding their magic and couldn't afford to live removed from Muggles as wealthier families did. He'd seen pictures of her over the years, even a few with Tom nearby but almost always out of the spotlight.

Hermione looked at them then, the laugh falling off her face as she read whatever was showing on his own. They were trapped in each other's gaze for a moment, and then her eyes slid away and, catching on Ron, she waved.

"How does she barely look thirty?" Ginny grumbled, unconsciously smoothing her hair. "She - they - must be in their nineties. Monsters."

His wife's quibbling relaxed Harry and he smiled at her fondly.

"I know," Lisa said misreading the mood, "she must have the most amazing potions."

Harry tried to see what they could and, though it seemed she was no longer frozen in time in her early twenties, he realised they were right. Both she and Riddle stood out, slightly too youthful to be on the platform as parents. But then they'd cheated time and death to be standing there. It was dreadful that it had worked. And yet - he watched her bend down to talk comfortingly to her daughter - he had missed her terribly.

"What's everyone staring at?" Hugo asked, looking around. "Oh look, Dad knows her, don't you dad? She comes to my school at the end of term."

Hugo was right: heads were turned all down the platform. It was strange, that Hermione was the famous one. But people were used to Harry now, and he liked that.

"The school we weren't allowed to go to," Lily muttered. "Everyone else did."

Harry ignored the old argument about Riddle House, and, shaking off the unexpected sighting, looked around for his sons, who'd vanished. James was nowhere to be seen, but he spotted the back of Albus's head, his black hair spiked up just like his father's. Past forty, Harry's own still misbehaved, but the black was fading to grey. He reached up to pat it down, reflecting that his middle child was the most like him and the least, and that he didn't understand his thirteen-year-old at all.

Albus was, predictably, with Scorpius Malfoy, whose dense springy curls had been neatly cropped back close against his head in preparation for the term. Harry had been surprised to hear Malfoy of all people had moved to the island and married Hermione's colleague Aluwani, but even more surprised when his own son had struck up a close friendship with theirs. Mind you, Scorpius was a good kid. His little sister was clinging to her dad's hand. Malfoy, startlingly pale as always, sent a nod and a half-smile at Harry, their mutual resignation to this unexpected link long since settled. They'd never be close, but Malfoy had brought Scorpius to stay twice in the holidays, and taken Albus to the island once, and the interactions had been brief but smooth.

"Come on, Lil." James appeared next to Harry having obviously unloaded his trunk and owl. "I'll get you settled in. You can travel with me," he said rather generously.

Harry's eldest son was nearly as tall as he was now, his voice seeming to deepen by the day. He wondered if his son's kindness to his little sister was a trick or a side-effect of growing up and sent the boy a warning glance.

"Thanks Jamie. I hope I'm in Gryffindor with you," Lily said for the eighteenth time that week, her face lit up with joy and all teasing about Hufflepuff long forgotten.

"You'll be wherever you want to be," Harry said automatically, though he had little doubt she'd be in a red scarf soon enough.

"Let us help you get your stuff into a compartment, darling. Ooh you've got a little bit of soot." Ginny stepped towards her daughter, handkerchief in hand. Lily dodged expertly and seized the trolley with her trunk and owl.

"No, look, we'll be fine! I can do it. Come on Jamie."

"Alright. Come back and say goodbye before you go," Harry called after his rapidly fleeing children.

"Of course I will, Dad," Lily called back over her shoulder. Her excitement was so strong she'd almost made herself sick for weeks. Two years of sobbing as she waved her brothers off and then resenting them for coming home and stealing her parents' attention away were over.

"Should we…?" Ginny mused, still distracted by the other family.

"It's up to you," Harry said, though the spike of longing took him by surprise.

"Let's get the kids off first and we'll see - oh."

Lily Luna and James had stopped next to Hermione's family, who'd merged with the Malfoys in the interim, and suddenly all three of his children were within arm's reach of Tom Riddle. Sick fear ran through Harry and he was moving forward before his mind caught up to it.

"...seemed odd to me to put all the similar personalities together," Hermione was saying to Albus, as he came within earshot and her voice hadn't changed, taking him back to a thousand thousand hours spent together. She broke off and met his gaze.

"This is Albus's dad Harry Potter," Scorpius said, misinterpreting the awkward silence. "Mr Potter, this is Hermione Granger Dearborn."

"Thank you Scorpius - Harry is actually an old friend ," she said warmly, smoothing over the moment. "Harry, Ginny - I was just meeting your wonderful children. But it's almost eleven, you should all be on the train by now."

"She's right - come on Scor," Aluwani said, and the Malfoys moved off, Albus following in their wake.

"We'll get them settled," James said, sending Hermione his most charming smile, and Harry swallowed an irrepressible pang of amusement, then felt his heart sink as he saw Lily grin at Hermione's daughter. She had her father's dark waves and eyes but as she beamed excitedly back, he saw with a pang that her front teeth were slightly too big.

"Thank you, James," Tom Riddle said, "that's very kind."

He spoke to the teenager like he was speaking to an equal, and James stood a little straighter.

"I'm Ida Granger Dearborn," the girl said, beaming up at him. "This is my little brother Cad. It's short for Cadmus, but only mum calls him that. I'm the eldest by seven minutes and I know three more spells."

Her brother pinched her arm and she pouted up at her father.

"Get your stuff on the train and come back and say goodbye," Tom told them, kissing the top of his daughter's head. "And don't bully Cad."

"Cadmus! Honestly, it's a new school - at least try," Hermione admonished half-amused, half-stern.

Tom and his son exchanged wry smiles at what seemed to be an inside joke. It was like a strange dream, hearing Tom Riddle acting like a father, his words to his children echoing Harry's own. He turned away caught in the awkwardness, unsure whether to stay or not. Ginny slipped her hand in his.

"Don't unshrink these until you get to the school," Hermione said. "And don't eat too many sweets."

He'd never thought of shrinking their trunks - and would probably ruin them anyway. It was hard to keep everything inside the right size. He suspected Hermione had modified her twins' luggage itself. It was probably illegal here, like the beaded bag that had saved his life so many times, but her island had its own laws and she had presumably written them. If she sold that she'd make a fortune - but he supposed she didn't need one. That was why George had moved there, Harry remembered. Iðunna didn't have strict laws about magic and he'd said he could create more interesting things.

The adults stood in awkward silence as the children passed trunks, owls, and cats onto the train and Harry didn't know what to think as Tom Riddle's children blended in with his own.

"They seem normal enough," Ginny whispered. "Don't they? That girl is just as annoying as Hermione was."

They did, and that was what was so jarring. He had been furious with Hermione for twelve years and it seemed as though whatever she'd done had leashed the worst in Tom Riddle. He'd never believed it was an accident, and he thought that even less now. But this was a happy family, with confident, bright-eyed children and it had thrown him off-kilter.

Harry glanced sideways at his old enemy, who had slipped an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"It'll be alright," Harry heard Riddle - Eldritch he remembered suddenly, that was it now - murmur. "They'll be fine. I promise."

Perhaps he wasn't the same man. Maybe he was the potential of something better come to pass. It wasn't natural - but neither was being young and glowing with health at ninety-five.

"I know, I know. It's just so horrible. I wish they'd chosen a day school. How on earth did my mother do this without crying? She had no idea what I was going off to. Perhaps that was better. When I think of what we got up to…"

"Well I think we can be fairly sure it's going to be safer for them," he joked and Harry couldn't help himself.

"Why have you come?" he asked, which was much less impressive than he'd been hoping.

"To see my children off to Hogwarts, Potter, just like you."

Harry floundered. He was certain he had the moral upper hand but he couldn't find it. What else was there to say?

"Darling," Hermione murmured softly, a fake smile on her face, and Tom stepped back, relaxing into pseudo-joviality. Their awareness made Harry remember the eyes on them and he tried to relax too.

"I'll check on the twins."

The air felt lighter again once Riddle had gone, and Ginny too, and it was just Harry and Hermione left, trying not to make a scene.

"You used me to get him," Harry said, "I will never be able to get past that."

I miss you and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you and I hate you for ruining something so important.

She nodded, and he thought of the letters she'd sent. He'd never opened them. There were six in total, sitting in a box even Ginny didn't know about.

"I'm not sorry," she said after a moment. "You know what I went through, what I've given up to try to make this world better for everyone. That was the only truly selfish thing I've ever done, and I'm glad I did it."

"I can understand that, I suppose."

The impasse lulled quietly for a moment before the flurry of goodbying children arrived, and then all too soon the train was pulling out of the station, slowly at first and they walked alongside it, waving, the children hanging out of the windows crying, laughing and pulling faces, his daughter's red hair coming out of its plait and mixing with Ida's black hair as it sped up.

"I thought Malfoy was bad enough," he said to Ginny with a sigh, and she laughed.

"They'll be alright," she murmured.

Then it was around the corner and out of sight and when Harry and Ginny turned to leave, eyes stinging from the steam and a few tears, he saw Hermione and Riddle had gone.

.

.

The first Cadmus, of course, also founded a very famous city state, and was as clever as he was brave. Ida is named for the island.

A special thanks to paperbackbones and alchemyandink (on ig) for their support. You've elevated this in how I think of it and given it legitimacy and given me confidence.

And of course as always to SallyJAvery, who has become one of my closest friends on and offline over this process. Love you, Sal.

But this chapter is dedicated to all of you, without whom I would have stopped writing this a long time ago! If you're looking for the answer to an unsigned review it'll be on tumblr. Come and ask me things there, we're all stuck at home right. I'll do outtakes and stuff if you want. Thank you for coming on this exploration with me. I loved it a lot - I hope you did too.

It's a very scary time. I hope this brings some light into your homes. Stay in them unless you have to leave and remember - this too shall pass.