FicWad

Since my knowledge of international culture and mythology is low, almost to the point of nonexistence, I will be executing various "time jumps" a couple of times in this fic, although not nearly as jarring as it was when I first wrote this. This has been a public service announcement.

I don't own Harry Potter.
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Chapter 5 - Graveyard Terrors

Three years had passed since Harry and Hermione had first left the United Kingdom. In that time, they had been through much of Europe and parts of Asia, eventually finding themselves in America. Much to their disappointment, many of the spells that the international books had to offer were spells that they were familiar with from their Hogwarts lessons, only with different incantations and maneuvers. However, any new information that they did find, they learned quickly. In the past three years, they had also mastered Occlumency, as well as silent casting, making the learning process even more efficient.

In addition to their minds, Harry and Hermione were also improving their bodies with a series of physical exercises. After three years, while they still maintained a normal physique, they could overpower many wizards with ease. Their increased endurance also allowed them to last longer in duels.

Two years after they had fled England, Harry had decided to undergo corrective vision surgery to eliminate the combat liability of his glasses. Despite the potential risks that accompanied such a procedure, no magical equivalent existed, and the magical contact lenses that he often used were only a temporary solution. Fortunately, the surgery was a success, and several hours after he entered the hospital, Harry could see the world clearly for the first time without the aid of glasses or his contact lenses. Harry also underwent cosmetic surgery to remove his scar, making him less recognizable.

Currently, Harry was flipping through a diary of one of Sirius' ancestors while Hermione was taking a shower. At first, it was the normal pureblood propaganda that Harry expected from them, but halfway through, he found something interesting.

At last, I have discovered it! Proof that my late husband's theories were not mere insane babblings. I have found evidence of alternate levels of existence, between the mortal plane and the afterlife, running parallel to our own. I have also found a way to enter one of these planes. To enter it, speak or think the words "obvius animus ostium" while attempting to Apparate across the room.

When I first entered this plane, which I have dubbed Felarus' Plane, in memory of my late husband, I saw that it was very much like our own. However, most of my magic would not work, and other occupants of the room seemed oblivious to my existence, passing through my body like ghosts. I tried to leave the room, but the doors would not yield for me. I tried to cancel the spell, but found that I could not, and I began to grow terrified. In an act of desperation, I Apparated and suddenly found myself in my own realm, relief flooding my senses.

I began to experiment with this strange new realm. After countless hours of research, I had concluded that I was the only living thing within it, a totally superfluous plane. I also discovered that from here, I could apparate to anywhere I could recall. Once, I had even apparated to my Cousin Esmeralda's house in Italy!

I must perform more research into this new and mysterious branch of magic in order to unravel all of its secrets.

Harry flipped through the next few pages, and found nothing warning against performing this action, so he set the diary down, picked up his wand, and stood on one end of the room that he was in.

"obvius animus ostium," Harry chanted while spinning around, attempting to apparate to the other end of the room. He felt the squeezing sensation of Apparation, and he opened his eyes to inspect his performance. The room was perfectly normal, except that the environment was completely devoid of color, leaving everything a dull shade of gray. Spinning around again, Harry Apparated back into the real world. A few minutes later, Hermione emerged from the shower, still drying her hair.

"Did I hear you Apparating?" she asked as she balled up her damp towel and threw it into a clothes hamper.

"Umm...kind of," Harry said, picking up the diary that he had found and showing it to Hermione. She scanned the pages, her eyes steadily growing wider.

"Harry, please don't tell me that you tried this," Hermione said, shifting her gaze to Harry.

"Umm..." Harry trailed of hesitantly. "Okay, I didn't?" he said, although it came out sounding like a question. Hermione groaned and raised her hands up in exasperation.

"For the love of God, you're lucky that we weren't caught, Harry!" Hermione snapped at her companion. "Dimension hopping is very dangerous and very illegal! Back home, it's an automatic life sentence in Azkaban!"

"Umm...oops?" Harry said, cringing. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"'Oops,' he says," she mutters, flipping through the diary again. "And here's why it's illegal," she said, holding the open book to Harry, who began reading it.

I cannot believe that I was such a fool! My passion to expand my husband's research has nearly cost me my life.

After exploring Felarus' Plane, I began searching for other planes to explore, and after three years I had finally found it. Unfortunately, when I crossed the threshold, I found myself in the company of monstrous beings that would inspire nightmares within the foulest beasts of our world, and I barely managed to escape with my life.

I now realize how dangerous dimensional travel is. I have petitioned a bill to the Wizengamot banning the practice of this art, and have destroyed most all of the research I have conducted on the subject.

However, as I held it to the flames, I could not compel myself to destroy the key to Felarus' Plane, my last connection to my husband. So, I have written it into my diary, where it shall remain safe within my family.

"Well..." Harry trailed off, "at least Felarus' Plane is safe," he said weakly. "Hermione, just think about how useful this spell could be!" he tried to reason with her. "With this, we could probably go anywhere we wanted. And the diary said that there wasn't anything dangerous there." Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hand.

"Alright..." she relented, "but just that one location, and not without my supervision!" she added.

"Deal," Harry agreed, pulling Hermione into a hug.

"What would you do without me?" Hermione asked rhetorically, patting Harry on the back.

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"I don't see why we have to walk through this damn graveyard, especially tonight," Harry complained as he and Hermione walked through a cemetery. On Halloween, in celebration of the anniversary of their friendship, Harry and Hermione went into the city to have dinner together. However, Hermione insisted on walking back to their hotel in the magical portion of Salem, Massachusetts, which involved them walking through a cemetery. Normally, Harry did not have a problem with this, but that night, a cold air and dense fog created a chilling atmosphere that left Harry feeling slightly nervous.

"Oh, stop being such a big baby," Hermione retorted as she walked around the headstones. "We need to work off the calories that we gained during dinner. And besides, it’s just fog; I never figured you for the superstitious type, Harry."

"I'm not superstitious; I just don't know why we can't just Apparate back. Besides, it's really cold out he--oww!" Harry shouted, clutching his leg, muttering obscenities.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked him, running back to Harry.

"I'm fine," Harry gasped, "just ran into a headstone. God, it hurts." He propped his foot on the stone cross and lifted the leg of his trousers, checking his shin for damage. As he lowered his trouser leg, he felt colder, and he heard faint whispers in the distance. "Did you hear something?" he asked Hermione.

"No," she said, shaking her head. Frowning, Harry listened to the whispers, which began to increase in volume, until he heard the voices of Voldemort and his mother. Harry gasped as he realized what it meant.

"We've got to get out of here now!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand. Before Hermione could respond, dementors came flying out of the fog from every direction, swarming them. Harry did not dare attempt to Apparate away; the dark memories being pulled to the forefront of his mind by the dementors' influence were throwing off his concentration, and he would run the risk of splinching. Struggling to find a happy memory, Harry and Hermione blindly fired a patronus and fled away from the main swarm of dementors.

"Do you think you can Apparate now?" Hermione panted after they had fled a fair distance from the dementors.

"I think so," Harry gasped, the images lessening in intensity.

"Great," Hermione said, standing up and preparing to Apparate. However, before she could spin around to disappear, the dementors reappeared, one slamming into her torso and sending her flying, knocking her head on a headstone.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled, firing a patronus. He ran over to her prone body, a small trail of blood trickling down her forehead. Before he could revive her, a dementor swooped down on Harry, forcing him down and knocking his wand out of his hand. Grabbing his throat with one of its rotting, skeletal hands, it lifted Harry up into the air, sucking the air with its rattling breaths.

Harry gasped as the combination of the foul memories and the dementor's grip on his throat choked him, and he desperately began punching the face of the dementor. When the undead creature was unfazed, Harry began pulling at the wraith's arm. As the dementor drew Harry closer to it, preparing to suck out his soul, Harry began tugging harder, the adrenaline rushing through his system giving him the strength to pull the arm out of its socket. The dementor shrieked in pain while Harry fell several meters to the hard ground, the dementor's hand still wrapped around his neck.

Harry scrambled to his wand and fired off another patronus, warding off the dementors that had begun to gather around Hermione's unconscious form, when the same dementor as before swooped down and tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Harry groaned as the dementor held him to the ground with strength disproportionate to its rotted body as it lowered its face to his. In an act of desperation, Harry swung up and jabbed his wand into the dementor's eye socket, forcing it to release him.

Forcing himself onto his feet and the dementor's arm swinging limply from his neck, Harry grabbed his wand with both hands and forced down the wounded dementor, as if forcing it into its knees.

"Go to hell," Harry spat at the undead beast before him, "expecto patronum!" The dementor shrieked as the spell was fired inside its body, bright light shining from its eyes and mouth. Harry kept it down as it shuddered and cried, but as light began pouring from its chest and the vibrations intensified, he belatedly realized what was about to happen. "Oh, shit," he muttered before the dementor exploded, the force of the detonation sending Harry flying several feet away.

As he lay on his back, searing pain in his hands and drifting into unconsciousness, the last thing Harry saw was a cloud of dementors flying overhead dissipating. Then, darkness overtook him.
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Well, that's chapter five. Whatcha think?

For the record, the spell used to enter the parallel plane roughly translates to "reveal spirit door", or something to that effect.