Oh No, Not Again


Herman Tumbleweed and grenouille

Disclaimer: In the realm of the unknown, who could really know what is known as the knowing? For that matter who cares? JKR owns HP, we own old worn out computers.

A/N: Some damn fool, aka Herman Tumbleweed, posted a plot bunny on his Yahoo! group, which got under the skin of his beta, aka grenouille, who then sent the purported literary result to him, who then couldn't resist helping out… this is the consequence. You have our sympathies if you are harmed in any way by reading this… no empathy here, just sympathy.

Chapter One: Rude Awakenings

Hermione Potter stretched fully as she came awake and realized that something was very wrong. Two somethings, actually. First of all, she was alone in her bed. She could have sworn that she wasn't when she went to sleep, but even if she weren't, it was unlikely that both of her partners would be up before her. Secondly, though this was her bed, it wasn't the bed she fell asleep in. This felt like her childhood bed that she hadn't even seen, much less slept in, for several years. Add a third thing to that list of somethings: The ceiling was decidedly different. It didn't have the stars and constellations Luna had hand painted on it. Those two facts, well, three perhaps, led to one inescapable conclusion.

A wave of panic struck then as she sat up suddenly. She looked around and saw that this was indeed her old bedroom in her parents' home, just outside of London. The thought then came, "How can this be?"

After taking a few calming breaths, and almost getting there (calm, that is), she swung her feet around to the side of the bed and discovered a fourth something: her feet barely touched the floor. "Bloody Hell," she muttered. Then looking hesitantly over at the mirror on her dresser, she gasped in astonishment, despite the fact that it should have been expected. Instead of the long, flowing waves that her hair had finally developed into, she now saw the bushy rats' nest from hell. And those teeth! "No, no, no! It can't be!" She wailed, albeit quietly.

Panic reasserting itself; she looked wildly around the room. It gave her considerable pause when she noticed the "Hello Kitty" blanket on her bed. Then she pulled out the front of her nightgown, noticing it also had "Hello Kitty" on it, and looked down. Not seeing what should have been on her chest, but weren't, well, to be accurate the basics of what would be there one day were there, but that was all. She then added "Ah, crap," to her brief whine, and that was the final straw. She fainted.

At the same moment in Ottery Saint Catchpole, another young woman woke. She sat up, shaking out her long blonde hair before realizing that she, too, was alone when she specifically remembered a more crowded and much larger bed. She also noticed she was in a bedroom she distinctly recalled being destroyed a few years before (along with the rest of the house, it should be noted). "Hm," she thought, "I wonder when they went off to? Maybe I'll have some breakfast, then ask the nargles in the yard when we are. Better see if Hermi and Harry are in the same when as me first… Hermi? Harry? Are we in the same when? I sure hope so, 'cause if we aren't that could get really messy. I'm not sure even the blibbering humdingers would understand that."

Meanwhile, in Surrey, a young man sat up suddenly and bashed his head on something considerably harder (than his head that is). "Shit!" he grunted, then muttered, "hey, wait a minute…?" Afterhe looked around the small, dark space, he added, "No fuckin' way! This has gotta be a nightmare!"

Harry took a deep breath and centred himself, more or less, before reaching out with his feelings and thoughts. Hermione? Luna? Where are you? Nothing.

Suddenly, he heard a heavy thumping directly over his head. "No way in the bloody nine shades of hell, he thought, "this can't be happening. I'm having a nightmare, yeah… erm no, what was that term? Oh yeah, I'm havin' a night terror… Right, that's gotta be it."

However there then came a loud crash right beside him as the cupboard door was flung open, slamming into the wall. An arm reached inside, grabbed him by the throat and dragged him out. He was deposited, sprawling, on the preternaturally clean floor.

Harry looked up in despair at his Uncle. "Oh fuck! No fucking way! Vernon's dead! Yep, most decidedly, well and truly dead; worm food; pushin' up daisies…" were his thoughts, as he wondered if the acronym for fear was wrong; or was that right? His thoughts were a bit muddled at that point. This certainly didn't look like False Evidence Appearing Real.

"Okay," his overworked brain continued, "the universe just went wonky..." Vernon damn sure looked alive, even if he was supposed to be six or so feet under. "Make that very, very wonky!" The above mentioned brain added. He could have sworn he heard snickering in his head which definitely didn't come from his loves. He thought, "Damn smart-arsed conscience sticking its two Knuts in again…"

Of course all those thoughts took barely a second, as he turned over to receive a morning greeting of, "BOY!" the not-so-dead walrus bellowed, "Why are you lazing about like no-good scum, and where's our breakfast? Get your worthless freak arse to work! NOW!"

Harry managed to dodge the big man's fist as he ran into the kitchen to fill the Dursley's trough, er, start breakfast. That not-so-false evidence now appeared even more real and he was wondering when he'd crossed the line from mentally communicating with Luna to occupying the same plane as her. "In all fairness," he muttered to himself, "it's probably one a couple of planes over from hers. Even Luna couldn't, and wouldn't, come up with this scenario."

He projected to them, "Luna! Hermione! Help!" He thought he could hear a faint reply, but it was like it was muffled by heavy blankets. "Must be the goddamn enchantments on the house from the long haired old master meddler," he continued muttering, adding a growl for good measure.

Hermione woke for the second time a few minutes later and shook her head. "What a weird dream," was her first thought. As she looked around though, she realized that her dream was, in fact, reality. Not the reality she particularly wanted, but reality nonetheless. Unless she'd gotten really, really sick, and was running a high fever, or had hit her head, and in either case was hallucinating. But, even though she'd never had a hallucination that she could recall, this didn't feel like she thought one would feel. So, therefore it must be reality, even if she didn't want it to be.

"But, Oh, bloody, friggin', buggering hell," she started panicking, again, slightly, wailing in her thoughts, "I'll have to wait years to give Harry my... and Luna too... and, what are we going to do... how can we live together... is Harry in his cupboard again?" And then she let out a feral growl at that thought, though of course said growl was considerably higher pitched and thus not nearly as menacing as it once had been... or would be... or something like that... "Okay, now," she calmed herself, sort of, "First thing's first. Harry? Luna?" she called to her loves, "Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I think it's more like when are we, Hermione,"came the dreamy mentally projected voice of her blonde, somewhat spacey, love. "To be more precise, even though the clock says 6:07, I believe it would be advantageous to know a bit more than just the time, don't you?

Once again, the older girl grew agitated, "Oh, Sweet Merlin. Luna, are you okay? Where are you?" Her panic subsided immediately though, as she felt Luna's calming presence being projected to her. "Can you feel Harry, love?"

"I appear to be in my room in my dad's old house. But I seem to remember falling asleep with you and Harry in Godric's Hollow. However, the tower was destroyed several years ago and it would seem I'm smaller than I was when I went to bed with you and Harry. Hmm, that's odd… It seems I have misplaced my breasts, as well."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at her co-wife. "Now that you mention it, I seem to have had the same setback. But what about Harry?"

"Well, he didn't have any to lose, so I don't think that will be a problem, though he does like to have his sucked and played with just like we do, so I suppose if what little he has were to go missing…"


"Oh my, I just hope he didn't misplace his…"


"Calm yourself Hermione, love. I'll see if I can feel him. It is odd we can't talk to him. It's been years since we started…" Luna trailed off her projected thoughts to sit in silence for a few moments, focusing hard on her feelings. Being an empath had its ups and downs, and sometimes she had to concentrate very hard to feel what she wanted to, or not feel what she didn't. For her part, Hermione just fidgeted some more while she waited more or less patiently.

Finally, Luna sent, "I can feel him, but he seems… muffled in some way. I can't seem to reach him to talk right now. I know he's in this same when that we are; and that he's okay, but very stressed. Oh bugger he must be at the Dursleys again and under those silly worthless enchantments old long beard put so much stock in. Bugger, bugger, bugger…" she trailed off apparently thinking to herself and trying to feel their Harry again.

The bushy haired, and suddenly much younger than she wanted to be, brunette witch was thinking furiously about what could possibly have happened to take them back what seemed to be about ten years. Her thoughts were interrupted, fortunately, for they were essentially going in circles and making her dizzy.

Luna sent, "we don't know what day it is, or even what year for that matter, and I can't check – Daddy doesn't get the Prophet. In fact," she mused, "I haven't even seen Daddy yet."

"I can check, Luna", Hermione sent "let me go downstairs. My parents get the Times, so it should be here already."

"Okay, love, I'll get dressed and all that. Damn, this means I probably will have to wear undies again. I hate wearing knickers, damn, damn, damn…" Luna trailed off, apparently muttering to herself. Then she sent, "In fact, I'm wearing some now. Bugger all! And to make it even worse, I just looked and I seem to have misplaced my pubic hair as well. Oh bollocks..."

Hermione interjected, disrupting the rather colourful diatribe, "Just out of curiosity, Luna, why do you have to wear knickers?"

"Oh, well, it's kind of silly, really, but my mum insisted until, erm, well, until she died, and then... and then Daddy kind of thought he should do what Mum had done until I got old enough that Daddy kind of didn't think it appropriate to be asking about things like that anymore."

"Oh," Hermione replied, rather lost while she thought through her love's stream of consciousness. After all this time she still could not always follow the brilliant blonde's thoughts. "How old were you when your dad stopped asking about that, dear?"

"Oh, I think I was about 11. Yes, it was shortly before I started Hogwarts, because it was when I started my periods and he didn't like talking about that. I'm so glad Harry is so different from most men. I don't think many could handle some of the discussions you and I have had which our dear Harry has had to listen to."

Halfway downstairs by then, Hermione snorted, "You got that right. The one and only date I went out on with Ron I mentioned it when he asked why I seemed off, and he turned positively green, saying that was way too much information. My Dad's pretty much the same."

"I know what you mean," Luna was humming aloud and it always carried over slightly into her thoughts and was projected. Hermione was thankful the other woman had a good voice. Luna snickered, and then continued, "Ronald was always like that, in fact I think all the Weasley men are. Even Arthur would leave the room if Ginny or I even casually mentioned it. Most of the guys in Ravenclaw were just as bad." She snickered again, devilishly this time. "I used to start talking about it with other girls in the common room sometimes, just to weird the boys out."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at that, while she checked to see if either of her parents were downstairs yet. Not finding them, she walked toward the front door to retrieve the paper.

Some miles away, a young wizard was steaming about several things, not the least of which was being unable to communicate with the two women he loved more than life itself. He had always hated cooking breakfast for the slobs he had lived with growing up and found that now he positively despised doing so; in fact he loathed even being here. For that matter he really detested the long haired, left-over-hippie lookin', dick brained bastard with way too many job titles. The meddlesome old bastard might have been dead in their previous reality (assuming Harry wasn't actually having that night terror) but even though he was alive in this time something was going to change, and very, very soon; whether the bumbling anachronism liked it or not.

The so-called protections on this house were supposed to be strengthened by the love of family, which was a fallacy in planning since there was very little true love in this house to start with. Absolutely none was shown toward Harry, or from him either, as far as that goes, at least here. But, even though the protecting enchantments actually did keep wizards away, except for the Order prison guards… er, folks later on, the very fact of being here had made Harry very unhappy the first time. That wouldn't happen now, not for long at any rate.

Unfortunately, at least for the other occupants of the house, at that point in time the walrus strode into the kitchen, followed by the horse faced woman, and stumbling along shortly after was the pig-in-a-wig. The latter sneered, something that might have bothered Harry at one time. He hardly noticed this time, because he was too intent on not blowing up the house, or at least the other occupants of it. He didn't think that doing such a thing would earn him any points with the greatest actor in the world, also known as a dick brained bastard, nor would it go down well with the Ministry sheep.

However, proving that Murphy has a sense of humour, the walrus plopped himself into a chair, which fairly screamed in protest, then unfortunately bellowed, "Why the bloody hell isn't breakfast cooked yet, you filthy lazy freak?" He didn't realize just how big a mistake he'd just made, though a certain young wizard was certain to make sure he did soon know in a most interesting fashion. The lad was consistent that way as he grew older.

Even more regrettably, the horse faced one picked that moment to come stare over his shoulder, and after a moment started screaming, "I've told you, I don't know how many times, not to use that frying pan for the bacon. You will ruin it you… you…"

The black haired youth quelled his anger, decided on a better course of action than destroying half of lower England, calmly turned to look up, and cut off his idiot aunt, saying, "Wizard?"

To say there was dead silence could be construed as an understatement. It was more like sound had been murdered, buried, and forgotten in the mists of time. Harry grinned maliciously, and turned to fully face the skinny woman and the two heavyweights. The former had backed away from him so fast it was like she'd been hit with a banishing charm, and was now flat against the wall near her husband who looked dumbstruck. The last resident just looked dumb. But then the budding killer whale always looked that way so there really was no noticeable change there.

Softly, almost in a whisper, as if not to resurrect silence from its shallow grave too severely, Harry asked, "Did you think I would never find out? Did you truly think you could beat it out of me? Are you both so fucking dense that you could believe that not telling me would make them forget about me?" Then he yelled, which of course sent silence fairly scampering in fear, "JUST HOW GOD DAMNED STUPID ARE YOU TWO?"

Silence decided to attempt an encore performance, which naturally only lasted a very short time. The walrus-in-training picked that moment, to disturb silence's last hurrah and ask inanely, "What do you mean, wizard, Freak?" His attempted sneer was marred by the look that on him passed for intense concentration, but on anyone else would appear to be intense constipation.

Snickering, Harry couldn't help but return the sneer, with interest, raised a hand as if in school, and then told Diddikins, "Wand carrying, incantation reciting, magic using, spell casting, wizard here, and your parents have known all along. My parents were NOT DRUNKS and were NOT killed in a car crash; they were murdered by a sociopathic megalomaniac with delusions of adequacy and, incidentally, of ruling the world. He died when he tried to kill me next and no one knows why."


"If that is what you want." The youngster stated flatly. "I'll be going to Hogwarts whether you like it or not, you damned idiot. All you had to do was treat me respectfully, like a member of your own family, but NOOOOOOooooo, you both had to go and make complete fools of yourselves. If I was a vengeful ma…, er, boy I'd do something really nasty before I leave.

"THAT'S IT!" The walrus, who had stood while bellowing in a fair imitation of the noble creature he so strongly resembled, started to raise his hand and move toward Harry. Howsomever, he did not quite get there.

In fact, Harry instantly waved his hand and the lump appeared to be moving through treacle pudding – that had been left outside – in January – in Scotland. In other words, the man was fairly stuck. The young wizard smirked. The fat lump grunted in effort. Harry briefly wondered if he was being really, really unfair to walruses by comparing this… being to the noble creatures.

The horse faced one looked at the smirking boy, at her extra large hubby, at Harry, at the fat lump again, then at the young wizard again, and finally let out a strangled, "Oh," sound as if she were gargling with that same treacle pudding. She then lapsed into silence, though her jaw kept flapping up and down like it was in a rather stiff breeze and had no muscles to control it.

Dudley seemed to be watching a three way tennis match as his head swung from one of the three to the next more or less in rotation. His mouth hung open as if he was hoping to inhale, or perhaps swallow, understanding of what was going on. He was unused to being ignored, to be sure, but chose to stay on the sidelines of whatever the bloody hell was going on here. It was likely to be one of his finer moments in life, or at least one of his most intelligent decisions.

Harry smirked wider, easily surpassing Dudley's best smirk ever in his entire life. For that matter it likely was better than even Malfoy, Sr., or his clone, the ferret, had ever managed. It might, in point of fact, have been the best smirk ever invested upon the face of a human being. And knowing it was a really good smirk, he shared it equally with all three Berksleys.

The walrus bellowed… something, again, and likely it was along the lines of, "YOU! OUT, NOW, NEVER COME BACK!" Though in truth it was a bit hard to say for sure as the man was the colour of steel when heated to extreme temperatures shortly before it fades to white. Harry thought it was a lovely shade, better even than a Weasley in full embarrassed or pissed off mode. The wizard was impressed. Suffice to say the round mound of bellow and bluster was incoherent with rage, or apoplexy, it was truly hard to tell at that moment.

Harry looked then at the mini giraffe who was married to the walrus-like thing (Harry decided that sounded better and maligned walruses much less) with a questioning expression. She looked pained, as if she knew what was about to happen, but nodded her head, obviously feeling she had to agree with her husband. "You'll have to leave, boy."

With another really big healthy smirk, Harry told the walrus-like creature (or was that cretin) and the giraffe necked being, in a very clear ringing voice, "I no longer call this place home!" To Harry it sounded like choirs of angels singing, or at least Luna and Hermione having harmonized orgasms which was something beautiful to his ear. In one of those odd moments of clarity which come unbidden and in a non-sequitur fashion, Harry sussed he'd not be hearing that particular sweet harmony for several years and swore loudly in his head.

Petunia gasped, loudly. It seemed she knew what his having said those words truly meant, Vernon grunted and sputtered something else, and Dudley rotated his head through another arc.

At that moment a barely visible wave of magic swept through the house from all directions, seeming to collapse in on the young wizard with a slight whooshing sound. It felt great to Harry, refreshing even, though he saw the rest tremble as if in fear. But then, in all fairness they didn't like magic and had no experience with it, except the little Petunia had seen as a child.

She looked positively stricken, and Harry told her, "Twigged on that right quickly, did you, Petunia? I'm amazed, but then you always were a few brain cells ahead of these two." He gestured to the pair of overly large beings in the room. "Oh, and what you just felt was the enchantments around the house collapsing, the ones held up by my living here, by my being able to call the place home; the ones that kept dark wizards from finding me, the ones that also protected you. Since you cast me out, and I no longer call it home they went bye-bye. Sad, that; I'd say you have no more than about 4 years to move. Soonest would be a lot better. The people whose master I obliterated a few years ago have absolutely no love of Muggles, and even less of a sense of humour. Hmm, in fact the only thing they find funny is torturing people, especially Muggles.

At Dudley's even more lost look, he added, "Muggles are people who don't have magic. Normal people like you lot. Us abnormal people who can do magic are called wizards and witches and… well there are lots of other names some of us get called, but let's us not open that kettle of fish."

Harry paused a moment then, listening to the chatter between his ladies on their private frequency, so to speak, and smiled, very happy to be able to hear and feel them again. He sent his love first.

Luna squeaked, "I just felt Harry, he's out from under whatever it was that was muffling him! Hi Harry, love." She sounded ecstatic.

"Oh Harry, darling, I'm so glad." Hermione sent warmly, she too sounded very happy. "But are you still at the Dursley's? Are you okay? Have they hurt you at all? Oh Harry, we were so worried that we could barely feel you and couldn't communicate at all…"

He cut her off, chuckling that some things just never quite changed, "Slow down, babe, I'm fine. Erm, I did just kinda, sorta crash the protecting enchantments here though, so that is why we can talk now. I'll tell you more in a few; just let me finish dealing with the Dursbins."

He smiled as he felt the loving and accepting warmth sent by his two life-companions. He then smirked at the Dursleys, again achieving phenomenal world class smirkiness, and told them, "Well, I suppose I should just get my coat and go then. Hope you have a wonderful life. And it really would be a good idea if you moved a long ways from here; another country would be good, maybe Canada or Australia," he told them happily. He heard the girls giggling in his head.

At that moment, far away in a castle in northern Scotland a certain long haired, left-over hippie lookin', dick brained bastard with way too many job titles looked up as he felt something in the flow of magic around him. It felt familiar somehow, but it did not register with him just what it was. It would be a considerable time before he figured it out, since he rarely bothered any longer to follow up on things. He was, after all, considered to be the most important wizard in the world and people just naturally did what he expected of them, and mostly without question.

In little Whinging, an old squib living a few streets over from Harry didn't feel a thing, not having enough magic to do so. It would also be a long time before she noticed anything amiss on Privet Drive, just would wonder why she hadn't seen or had Harry to mind for some time. She would go about her life, as old folks are wont to do, and time would pass much more quickly than she realized. Since Albus didn't seem to pay much attention to what she reported anyway, she would see no need to report that there was nothing to report.

While Harry finished telling off his relatives, the girls wondered what he had in mind and where he was going to live (each thinking their house would be absolutely stupendous). At the same time Hermione continued on to the front door and opened it to pick up the paper.

"Harry, Luna," she fairly shouted into the link, "today is Thursday, the twenty first of June, Nineteen Ninety. The Summer Solstice. The same day we left, just eleven years… I wonder..."

"1990...? Summer...? Oh, my..."

Harry and Hermione shuddered as a veritable hodgepodge of emotions flowed across their link, all from Luna and coming in rapid succession: shock, panic, curiosity, confusion, grief, wonder, sadness, then, finally, happiness and joy to an extreme that neither had ever experienced from her before.

The only thing that came close to the elation streaming from the blonde witch was when they had all come to realize that they belonged together. It had been sheer bliss when they finally took that final step of going to bed together, all three of them. That, naturally, was when the link formed from Luna's abilities and the intense magic they all possessed, especially Harry. Luna had inadvertently created a magical union during the many orgasms (it apparently happened when they all came simultaneously for the first time, a truly mind numbing experience to be sure), and which shortly became a delight to all three (the link, as well as the orgasms) when they discovered all the facets of them. (You question whether there can be different facets to a three-way mutual orgasm?)

"Harry, what's happening to Luna? What do we do? How do we help her?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to her." With a final glare at his relatives, as he reached into the cupboard under the stairs for the only (overlarge Dudley cast-away) jacket he owned and a few other possessions that he wanted to keep, he said, "Goodbye, Aunt Petunia. I do hope my mother takes pity on you when you meet her again." With his few meagre possessions in hand, he wiggled his fingers at Diddy and the walrus, andwith a soft pop, he was gone.

Hermione sent then, "Wait, Harry, I think I know. Her mum would still be alive. I think that's what this is, she just realized it…" Hermione sussed then that she was projecting to no one, because Luna was off the grid from her emotions, and Harry was… doing… something, so he also was not available. "Oh bugger all," she thought. "Damn him, where'd he go?"

Harry Apparated in front of a tower-shaped building, thinking, "I hope they live here now" He still felt the overwhelming joy, so he ran to the house, and then stopped to think a moment. "Where the hell do I look for her? Oh, sod it…" he left off thinking as he pushed open the front door to the odd house. Then he stopped and sheepishly asked, "Hermione? Help me out here, please?"

"Harry, where the hell are you?" He could vaguely hear her grumbling in her thoughts about him and Luna.

"I'm in Luna's living room. Where would she be?"

"Try her bedroom. Top of the stairs, remember? How in Merlin's name did you get there so soon?"

"Apparated," he replied as he started walking quickly across the room, "how else?"

"Harry! We're Ten YEARS OLD!"

"Actually, I'm still nine, but your point is…?" Harry replied jauntily. He was almost to the stairs, then stopped when he heard some noise to his right. Creeping towards the opening into the kitchen and dining area, not knowing what to expect, he quietly looked in and saw his young blonde lover sitting on the lap, and wrapped in the embrace, of an equally blonde woman who was seated at the table. He just stared in confusion as he felt a small hand on his shoulder. The young wizard turned to see a much younger Hermione, still in a Hello Kitty nightie and dressing gown observing the scene with a small smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

At Harry's curious look, she replied, "It's her mum, Harry. Luna's mum died when she was nine. We've come back far enough that her mum is still alive"

As the realization sunk in, Harry was happy for his younger lover, yet even that was tinged with a bit of regret at not being able to see his own parents.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I wish..."

"I can hear you two, you know. You may as well quit hiding like Nuzzling Titwarmers and come in and say hello. Did they bring you, by the way?" Luna's amusement was felt in her mental voice and intensified in her projected emotions, as she turned in her mothers embrace. The girl then hopped off her mum's lap to stand, but not quite letting go by keeping one hand on the arm of the woman, and smiled at her loves.

Blushing, the caught out pair rushed into the room, crashing into a three-way hug with Luna, who still held onto her mum with one hand. Their joy of being together again after their bizarre morning multiplied with Luna's happiness at seeing her mum and brought their feelings to near orgasmic levels, or at least it would have had they been a bit older and at least had started puberty. It is a well known fact that pre-pubescent children do feel many things, but the three would quickly discover true orgasms were not included; to their extreme dismay, displeasure, and disgust.

After holding the others for a few moments, Luna pulled back, still holding their hands in one of hers. "Mum, I'd like you to meet Harry and Hermione Potter, my mates. Harry and Hermione, this is my mum, Cassiopeia."

At this pronouncement, Cassiopeia stood and joined them in their group hug. "I'm so very glad to meet the people who've given my daughter so much joy and love. And, please, call me Cassie or, perhaps in time, mum? Your love for each other proves that you are as my own."

At Harry and Hermione's total befuddlement, Luna laughed, "Mum knows; I told her the basics. She wants to get to know you both, and she's much more open-minded on such things than the ...."

Hermione did her level best, really and truly she did, but she nearly fainted again with that pronouncement. The other two felt it and held onto her, Cassie seeming to twig to it immediately as well. The older witch told her, "Come over here, Hermione, and have a seat. I guess you've had quite a few shocks today." The girl only nodded.

Harry snickered, though he was kind when he told Cassie, "My love here, has never handled shocks to the system well, especially when there are too many at once. She is, or was, or will be, should I say," he smirked at Hermione who returned a wan grin, "a very strong woman. But some things just throw her a bit. She'll be fine." The he asked tenderly, "Hermi, love, did you by any chance pass out earlier?"

"Yes, you prat," she chuckled softly as the colour began returning to her face. "I woke up in my ten year old's bed and realized we had all kinds of things we will have to do over and so many things we can't do yet…" she cleared her throat, glancing at Cassie who smiled knowingly. "I was just kind of overwhelmed by it all. I mean, how the bloody hell did this happen? We went to bed last night being twenty and twenty-one years old, and now we're nine and ten. This really sucks, you know?"

Blushing now, the young brunette turned to the woman who sat then beside her, and while looking down said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, that just kind of slipped out."

Luna interjected, actually I'm eight for another… ten weeks and… three days... two hours, and twenty seven minutes." The interruptions threw all the others for a moment, especially since no one had ever discovered how the girl could so accurately figure a period of time in her head, basically at the drop of a hat.

Cassie shook her head with a smile at her daughter, then turned to the other girl and told her in a very mild voice, "Not to worry, dear, it is how you are used to speaking. I don't mind and I'm sure Xeno won't, but you should probably try to rein it in around others, your parents for instance…"

She was cut off by Hermione nearly shrieking, "Oh Merlin, my parents! If they are up already, I'm in so much trouble. And, oh shit, I'm gonna be late for class! Damn, damn, damn! I gotta go, guys, I'll talk to you later."

And with that she Apparated away, leaving three people giggling, chuckling, and in the case of the male present, flatly guffawing. "How typically Hermione," he said finally.

In his mind came, "I heard that you. As soon as I get my parents sorted you are in so much, well, not trouble exactly, but we are going to talk."

{To Be Continued}