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Parallel Dilemma	By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 8115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
Parallel Dilemma    Chapter Eleven: Resolutions   by nagandsev
Summary: Urged on by the Chief Warlock, Hermione and Sirius must make final decisions based on the information from Marcus Flint’s final interrogation.
A/N: My greatest thanks to the marvelous and very patient Proulxes, for being my alpha/beta, helping me to dig deeper and experience other levels of writing. Also, my greatest thanks to all of the readers, and in particular, those of you who have been kind enough to give me some very heartfelt feedback and questions, stimulating me on, and sharing lots of Hermione and Sirius love—again, thank you so much!

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Beneath the administrative headquarters of the Wizengamot, in a dungeon room down under Level 2’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic, Hermione, Sirius, Harry, and Minister Shacklebolt stood around in a cave-like stone space. They watched the manacled form of Marcus Flint, strapped against a flat cage-like grid that magically stood on a base over a dark circle of sullied earth.
They had been in this interrogation gaol cell for hours with what was amounting to both an inquiry and an esoteric trial of sorts on Flint. Tense and terse, Hermione felt Sirius touch her hand with his, giving her a gentle squeeze of support, as she and the others watched the Chief Warlock, Rufus Scrimgeour, interrogating and demanding an answer from the incarcerated prisoner. The inquisitor’s Self-Inking Quill self-flitted and fluttered around him, scribbling on ever-appearing parchments, recording Marcus Flint’s every utterance.
"Once more, what did you do then to Parkinson, Flint? The Parkinson in your world? I would have you speak more details, Flint!" demanded Scrimgeour, hitting the prisoner with a Stinging hex.
Hermione took a sharp breath as the Chief Warlock’s pacing back and forth became quicker and quicker, his control seeming to unravel before her at an alarming speed.
Suddenly, Scrimgeour—who had in this universe acceded to Chief Warlock after holding the Head Auror position during the war—strode directly to the center of the room, his keen yellowish eyes flashed with an intelligence and shrewdness that commanded everyone’s attention and alertness at every second.
"Potter," he ordered.
Hermione watched Harry cross and stand at full attention beside Flint.
Scrimgeour shook his mane of long, tawny hair as one hand snapped his wand up higher and the other produced a phial of clear, colourless potion.
"My patience has run out, Flint," informed Scrimgeour brusquely. "Potter, his head."
Hermione watched as Harry administered a spell that caused Flint’s mouth to open and his head to tilt back. With grim determination, Scrimgeour crossed to the shackled accused and uncorked the bottle; she witnessed the truth serum, Veritaserum, being forced down the prisoner’s gullet.
Flint coughed, choking on the liquid, and Harry paused. But the hardened veteran Scrimgeour’s steely eyes didn’t blink as he ordered, "His head, Potter. Again! No one’s died of an overdose… yet."
Though his eyes met Shacklebolt’s sharply, the Chief Warlock addressed everyone, "This heretic has quite an exceptional resistance level to the potion. However, this bottle is from the late Headmaster Snape’s special stock for the Ministry, for very special cases."
Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes at the sputtering prisoner. "You do consider yourself very special, don’t you, Flint?"
Marcus’ eyes flashed with burning hatred at Scrimgeour, and Hermione turned her head as her former partner spat in the Chief Warlock’s face. She had barely blinked when she saw an invisible force slap Marcus hard across the face, so hard, his cheek and eye immediately began to swell, welted.
"Minister, perhaps Granger could wait outside?" asked Sirius in a low voice.
Her and his eyes met, even as Scrimgeour snapped, "Not necessary. Let us proceed civilly for as long as we can—that is, as long as Flint chooses."
"Fuck you, blood-traitor," hissed Marcus.
Scrimgeour seemingly ignored him, addressing the Minister, "Shacklebolt? Continued open forum from any and all present, as questions arise? He should be quite cooperative after that dosage."
The Minister nodded, tightening his grip on his drawn wand as Hermione and Sirius instinctively clutched theirs.
"Focus your mind: you murdered Pansy Parkinson from your time for her life energy? Correct, Flint?" coerced the Chief Warlock.
Marcus’ face contorted, attempting to resist answering, but the potency of the Veritaserum forced him to gurgle out, "Yes."
Scrimgeour summoned the Self-Inking Quill and parchments to him and read out from one, "Abominable actions to push magic further… advanced it, even. No, that’s not—where is it? Yes, here, the process of blood loss must occur while chanting the following Accio and containment curses over the first living object... allowing the blood loss, up to a degree sufficient to cause death..." The Chief Warlock mumbled to himself for a few moments, "Desanguination... and through exsanguination... From exsanguination, contain and store the blood and life force within the inanimate object... The first living object—the murdered victim." He slapped one parchment with his other hand loudly. "Ah, yes! Here we are. Once the first living object is incapacitated, through the skin just behind the point of the jaw and below the neck bones, severing forward the jugular vein—you cut her throat, Flint? Inserted your wand inside ‘your’ Parkinson’s flesh and cast the curse to syphon her life force into your amulet?"
"YES!" roared Flint, who then began to sob, his twisted face shining from sweat and snot running down it.
"Why?" asked Hermione softly.
"Why? WHY?" blubbered Flint. "She had stopped!"
"Stopped what?"
"Stopped loving me!" Several seconds passed as Flint seemed to violently struggle with something burning inside himself, but then he calmed and began speaking quietly, fluently, as if purging himself of the information. "I came back from the other universe, ready to transfer myself here, to cast the spell… I wanted to give her one more chance, for she had stopped, don’t you see?" He stared directly at Hermione with a wild look in his eyes.
"No," replied Hermione in a small voice.
"Pansy’s work in the Love Chamber, her work—the Ministry destroyed her! She didn't want to know me any more—it was like... like all her emotions were erased." Marcus glared desperately into Hermione’s eyes. She held his baleful gaze as he continued, "She felt nothing for me."
"Had she ever?" asked Sirius darkly. "The Pansy in my world had never given the Flint there the time of day."
Hermione could see Marcus was trembling with adrenaline as he snarled back at Sirius, "Pansy… was my life! At Hogwarts, we bonded, experimented together—"
"This curse, Flint! Concentrate! Who discovered it first? How?" snapped Scrimgeour, cutting in.
Marcus jerked his head towards the Chief Warlock, answering, "Pansy had come across the ancient tomes of Herpo the Great in her apprenticeship post at the Ministry—she shared them with me! We discovered together his wonderful ancient spells for dimensional transporting, and we… I… No, we explored what was necessary to gather the magical power, the magical force to transfer us. At first, we suctioned energy from dark objects; child’s play it was." Flint licked his lips, growing more excited. "But then, we found a better way to use living Magical creatures, syphoning their life forces."
"Which allowed you to do what exactly?" snarled Sirius.
His eyes flashing, Flint whispered fiercely, "We found we could transport ourselves into other dimensions with calculations, temporary fluctuations in time and space. In the beginning, it was like looking down upon our temporal selves. But then we progressed; we were solidly, full corporeal forms in our transferred destination. But it would only last for several minutes. But Pansy became frustrated and stopped…"
"She stopped?" asked Hermione, needing to push him to clarify.
"Pansy closed up on me, became disinterested." Hermione saw Marcus’ features soften slightly, and a sliver of vulnerability was glimpsed as he slowly recounted, "I saw that she was slipping away. At first, she said it was the work at the Ministry, working in the Love Room… She’d become an Unspeakable. She said she was incapable of speaking about things, her research, responding to all my questions, responding to my interests, our once shared interests… Even though she was losing interest in me, I continued to experiment alone. For I wanted to impress her, show her how powerful a wizard I was… for her."
A blank look crossed Marcus’ face, and he seemed to be staring through the wall, watching something only known to him as if hypnotised. "The first time I used that Mudblood Justin Finch-Fletchley—his blood—he squealed like a pig... then he was silenced… The power that came to me from taking his life… I tried to tell Pansy, share with her the new incredible power that the life force of a wizard—even a Mudblood—not an animal or thing, brought to the curse’s manifestation. But she didn’t seem to be impressed or even to understand... She said she was tired of it all, tired of me." Marcus huffed and then shook his head as if coming up out of water. "So I needed more blood, more life force. Had to get it right, show her what we had worked on was possible, was vital to us, for us, our future together... The second time, I took the life force of the Mudblood Susan Bones." Marcus fell silent, staring again through the wall.
"But it wasn’t enough? Murdering Finch-Fletchley and Bones?" pressed Shacklebolt.
Marcus’ mouth contorted but no sound came out, and Hermione impulsively jumped in and asked, "Something changed?"
His head snapped to her, and he seemed then to be able to answer, "Yessssss, Granger… When I told Pansy about the second Mudblood, after that, she seemed to pull away from me even further." Flint scowled at the memory, his eyes darting from left to right. "I knew she needed help—we had worked so closely on it... We were going to be infamous... and so powerful!" Marcus struggled against his bonds—his voice straining as he continued, "I had to help her, help us, break away, start a new life, somewhere else. In a universe where our kind, purebloods—the true Wizardkind, should be the ruling power! So I pushed magic further than I had ever risked—I searched for a place where we could escape to…" His body suddenly became limp from his exertion.
"Here? In this universe?" demanded Scrimgeour.
"Yesssss..." His head lolled back and forth in a pathetic motion.
Hermione felt compelled to press him to answer fundamental questions. "Why couldn't you let her alone... let her go? Let her be free to live the life she had chosen, Marcus?"
His face twisted and he yelled, "I couldn't help myself!" He glared at Hermione desperately, "After she accepted the post in the Department of Mystery, I knew I would do everything—anything to be closer to her, at all cost, even if it meant leading a double-life, becoming what the new Muggle-loving regime expected—I had the talent and the will to fool them all, the insights and savvy into the Dark Arts and former Death Eater circles that no ordinary do-gooder Auror could possibly ever have."
"But still, it didn’t matter, with time, she turned against you?" Sirius reminded him.
"She said she was disgusted with me. The look on her face when I told her what I’d achieved for us, for her... I can’t forget it."
"And that’s when you performed the mutilating acts of exsanguinations on Parkinson, Flint?" barked Scrimgeour loudly.
"Yessss, that’s when I did it..."
"But it wasn’t enough?" asked Hermione softly.
"No, Granger, it wasn’t enough." Marcus licked his lips and seemed to be stimulated by something only known to him. "For you see, the spell demanded that yet a third life force be forcibly taken, contained within an inanimate object, my amulet." Marcus stared Hermione straight in the eyes. "The Pansy in our world, she laughed in my face… So I slit her throat like a filthy Muggle would, suctioned her life force as it left her body into my amulet, and threw her body through the Veil."
Scrimgeour gave a quick snap of his head to Flint as Shacklebolt held up his hand to the Chief Warlock and nodded to Hermione to continue questioning. Hermione blinked hard, knowing what happened next but needed to ask, "And then what?"
"Then I hurried to meet you, Granger, so that I could be your bloody lackey to boss around, your very own Hit Wizard." Marcus huffed and smiled a smile of triumph. "I knew you would be thoroughly tedious and pedantic as you always are—I knew you wouldn’t leave until you had visited the Space Chamber yet again. I just needed to disagree with you enough to push your little contentious buttons… I had watched you, studied you—I knew you were compulsive that way."
"And that’s when you struck Auror Granger?" pressed Shacklebolt, unable to hold back.
Marcus licked his lips again, his eyes boring into Hermione’s. "Yesssss, the vital component, Granger was my living conduit needed as my current to transport me, us—a living object for the magical transference to occur through time and space..."
"The final incantation is Portus Constellatio?" demanded Scrimgeour pedantically.
"Yesssss, it produces a fucking fantastic bolt of magic to travel through the constellations." Marcus leered at Hermione. "The captive curse must soar through the living conduit, penetrating, incapacitating it. Remember, Granger? It was lovely being the possessing wizard encased with you, my living conduit." He sneered, exulted. "The transference procedure took place, the conjugation of us becoming one occurred, a joining of body, mind, and life forces."
Having been silent the entire time, Harry suddenly joined in, asking, "Why wasn’t it enough? The power from objects and creatures?"
"Elementary basics, Potter!" snarled Flint. "The greater the magical source, the magical conduit, the greater possibility and security of achieving, so a–"
"Witch or wizard," growled Sirius, visibly flushed and seeming to barely contain his temper.
Flint glared at him hatefully. "Yessss, Black, witch or wizard."
The two wizards stared at each other with burning malice as Hermione surmised, "If almost any inanimate object can be turned into a Portkey, a bewitched celestial Portkey, then anyone who grasps it, encases it, possesses it, is transported to the pre-arranged destination at a given time, a predetermined destination."
Impatiently, Scrimgeour pressed for further clarification, urging, "So, Flint, you bewitched Auror Granger—"
"Yesssss, my bolt of magic was intertwined with her, my living victim, and the transference of myself and my conduit created the transference to the calculated coordinates chosen." Flint began panting more and more heavily. "It was exhilarating to transfer through time and space with Granger as my celestial Portkey, my living conduit of magical force, rendered insensible by my captive hex," gasped Marcus, gazing oddly at Hermione.
He swallowed hard as he suddenly gave her an affective, affectionate expression. "It might be the Veritaserum speaking, Granger, but I enjoyed soiling myself with you a bit, curiosity has always got the better of me—" He snapped his head directly to Sirius. "After taking her for my conduit, possessing her, I understood, Black. I understood what would make a pureblood lay with a Mudblood…"
"Shut it, you fucking scum!" In a flash, Sirius had impulsively leapt and grabbed Flint's shirt front.
As both Scrimgeour and Harry pulled Sirius off of him, Flint began to laugh maniacally, licking his bleeding lip with his tongue, and jeered at Sirius, "You know, Black, I do understand what your—our Pansy saw in you… You are exciting when you get so aroused."
As Scrimgeour and Harry held Sirius back, Hermione stepped in, determined to get further answers regardless of everyone’s excitable states, demanding, "You murdered other innocents in our world! Parkinson, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones to use their life forces—but why commit murder here? Why was Ron—"
"Pansy killed the ginger." Flint gave an evil grin to Hermione and then stared at Sirius and then Harry. "The Parkinson from Black’s world who transferred here did it. Just for fun."
"Just for fun?" demanded Harry, loosening his grip on Sirius.
"No, I jest," lied Flint flippantly, glowering at Hermione momentarily, then turned his head to Harry. "It was your Granger’s fault, Potter. Weasley wanted to please Granger and went down that evening alone to check the Space Room, his partner Black being the drunken sod he usually was… useless. But it was our Pansy, Black, that met ol’ Weasley down in the Department of Mysteries. She was seemingly making her rounds, and ol’ ginger boy came into her web so smoothly, asking her to help and lead him into the Space Room, and just like you, he found himself… before The Veil."
Hermione stepped in front of Sirius as if to shield him, asking, "So Ron was murdered just because of me, the Hermione here, Marcus?"
"No, for necessity. Weasley knew too much. The Granger here was oh so close to discovering and revealing all about Pansy, that Parkinson was someone quite different and yet the key, connected to the Department of Mysteries phantom intruder... Perhaps Pansy was even the one and the same here, yes? Weasley was Granger’s confidant, the closest to her—he had to… disappear. Just as you needed to."
"Go back, Flint," jumped in Scrimgeour, narrowing his eyes shrewdly, reading over another parchment. "You said you came back from ‘the other universe’ to your own, ready to transfer yourself here, ready to cast the spell—the Portus Constellatio spell with Auror Granger as your living conduit. Elaborate, explain in detail—your first experimental transference was here in our world or where exactly?"
"No. My first transference was there…" His eyes darted at Sirius hatefully. "In your world." Flint then became taciturn.
Giving the Chief Warlock a knowing look and a slight nod, Hermione asked, "You said that you had killed the Finch-Fletchley, performed the exsanguinations as prescribed by Herpo’s treaties. And you did it—you successfully transferred life energy to your amulet, your dimensional vortex allowing you to propel yourself through the time and space celestial portal. The celestial body being what, Marcus?"
Flint gave a strange look to her and then to Sirius. "Canis Minor was at its zenith in the heavens in the Space Room. I cast the spell and I arrived. And there… There she was… It was the first time I came into contact with her. Making her rounds, she found me in her world’s Space Chamber. My one and only, true Pansy."
Hermione continued to press her questions gently, "What happened there?"
Marcus shut his eyes tightly only to reopen them after a few seconds with a faraway look as he recounted, "It was fantastic. She was fantastic. Fucking incredible. She, like me, was seeking escape. To reinvent herself elsewhere. Her life, her duality had become too heavy to bear. She felt desperate enough to risk it all—but during our first time together, after only several hours, I began to fluctuate, fade—my corporeal being was being suctioned, syphoned back." He gasped as if reeling from a shock, causing Hermione and the others to involuntarily flinch, tightening their grasps on their wands.
Marcus’ voice grew louder and strained, as if he were reliving the stress and effort of the spell. "In a flash, I was ricocheted back! That’s when I killed the other Mudblood Bones immediately, hurried to portal through the heavens again at the same coordinates to find Pansy there, not lose her! We had shared so much in so little time," he suddenly whispered. "But again, I grew weak, began to fade. Hurriedly, she told me to kill a third time but also to procure a conduit, a living one, keep it alive—the missing ingredient to Herpo’s spell which would seal the permeating bonding and permanent state of being in the chosen constellational destination chosen. Yes, I would need a living conduit."
Marcus gave Hermione a dark look. "And then, once procured, I could meet and be with my true Pansy, my twin, in Canis Major. We would be portalled from our own space and time and then meet in the one and same universe, conjugated together forever... The Pansy there, she went first. She came here first and established herself…"
Marcus snapped his head away and his features darkened. "But she just had to bring Black with her… Use you as her living conduit, Black."
"Why me?" asked Sirius fiercely.
Marcus smiled a smug smile at him. "Pansy got off on you, Black. Or the thought of you, a notorious criminal in Azkaban—the thought of you having committed atrocious crimes, murdering all of those Muggles—she really had a strong affinity and preference for that."
"Hybristophilia?" blurted out Hermione. Sexual arousal from thoughts of violence?
"Yessss, Granger," hissed Flint in such a way that a chill ran down Hermione’s back. "Pansy was aroused believing that her partner or potential partner was known to have committed a crime, such as rape, murder…"
"She was insane," whispered Sirius vehemently. "Utterly mad."
"Insane or enamoured? Is there a difference?" quibbled Marcus, smiling at Sirius complacently. "Your Pansy, well, she became my Pansy… She made it quite known to me immediately that she was aroused from thoughts of violence, acts of violence. Well, what’s a bloke to do, right, Black? I had to impress her. You understand. I mean, I wasn’t you. Hadn’t done what you’d supposedly had done. So I had to do something. And I did. I did impress her. But then, I had to keep on experimenting to impress her even more… more and more and more…"
Hermione saw Sirius’ jaw muscles flex with contained tension as if he were about to strike or lunge at Marcus again, and she instinctively touched his arm as she pointed out to Flint, "Pansy didn’t seem to be enamoured of Sirius—did you... Did you do something to her here? Threaten her? Bewitch her here?"
"You’re such a clever Mudblood, Granger," hissed Marcus, but Hermione shook her head to all to not reprimand Flint but to let him continue revealing events.
For Flint had become glum, as if the Veritaserum was losing its potency, and Hermione wondered if he would continue or if the interrogation would be postponed further. But then he spoke again softly, admitting, "In school, my Pansy loved it when I committed an outrage against someone. She really got off on it. But this Pansy…" Marcus glared at Sirius. "Well, she admired you amorously a bit too much for my tolerance level, Black—she confessed she would get so wet just thinking about all of the violence you were capable of." Flint sniffed. "So, I had to adjust her thoughts about you, Black, when I arrived here. Had to modify her thoughts or feelings associated with you."
"But you realized that you could never erase Sirius completely, could you, Flint?" asked Hermione pointedly.
Marcus’ eyes narrowed shrewdly. "What?"
"You couldn’t erase Pansy’s complete associations about Sirius, Flint. So you modified her—you erased a part of her memory, just as you did or tried to do with me?" Hermione’s voice was rising uncontrollably, and she began to tremble.
Marcus looked at Hermione curiously, confessing softly, "True. I may have Obliviated a little too much, used a little too much force when I arrived. Pansy had seemed to like it, being rough with her and all… But she did seem of late to be a little brain-damaged—her way of thinking at times more concussive than at other times… Guess she kept being too affectionate about you, Black. And I couldn’t have that, could I?"
He grinned in a self-satisfied way. "For you see, it was time to get rid of you and the Gryffindor know-it-all once and for all." He mused, "Neither of us needed either of you any more."
Perhaps it was his maniacal, derisive laughter resounding in the stone space or perhaps his mocking smile at her and the others, but Hermione felt something snap inside her and felt forced to spell out the truth to him. "She would never be yours. You altered her memory, her thoughts, but you couldn’t succeed in truly erasing her obsession with Sirius, Flint."
Marcus became ever so still as Hermione stepped right in front of him, face to face, pointing out, "Just like you couldn’t completely erase my memories of what you did to me. What happened. True feeling, pure feeling, pure love is stronger than anything you could produce. Pure love broke the spells of your weak Dark magic. For you don’t understand love, never did, never possessed it or Pansy, truly—It was all a feeble, cowardly deception, Flint."
Again something released deep within Hermione, a door clicked opened and a warmth suddenly filled her head to toe, tingling throughout her, encompassing her. Giving Sirius a proud look, Hermione suddenly felt elated and excited. Her eyes flashed as she looked Marcus straight in the eyes, smiling, exulted, "You should have adhered the warnings about the Love Chamber: that behind the door of the Ever-Locked Room is the most mysterious subject of study of the department, the most powerful force ever to exist in the universe—love. A force more powerful than all Dark magic put together, more wonderful and more terrible than anything Herpo the Foul could ever imagine! Magic that you are incapable of ever understanding—"
"Shut it, you filthy Mudblood!" bellowed Marcus, ferociously trying to break free of his bewitched manacles.
Lunging in front of Hermione, Sirius thrust Flint’s possessed amulet in front of him, its evil energy still alive and burning deep inside the stone like a lit coal, eternally imploding and exploding, burning deep, connected to its own life force.
Sirius grabbed Marcus’ jaw and forced him to look at dubious object. "Will this still work?"
Upon seeing the enchanted amulet, Marcus began to growl expletives and thrash wildly.
Sirius jerked the prisoner’s jaw roughly to him, holding it in a vice grip, demanding, "Answer me, Flint!"
"Fuck you, you mudwallower, blood-traitor!" Marcus’ spit hit Sirius in the face.
Harry grabbed and held Sirius back even as Scrimgeour jumped in and demanded, "Is there enough energy to spell them back once more to their original space and time?"
A searing bolt hit Flint from Shacklebolt’s wand. "Answer us!"
"Yes! No!" he screamed. "I don’t know… One of them, yes! Both of them—It’s not within my experience or knowledge—no, as long as I’m alive!"
"Explain!" boomed Shacklebolt.
Panting wildly, Flint spewed out, "When Pansy went through the Veil, her—her amulet was depleted of the life forces contained within it, just as she was— So you’ve lost one transference vortex." His face twisted as he jeered at Sirius, "But make Herpo proud, Black. Be true to your family’s name, the Dark Lord’s mark on your arm—push magic beyond its boundaries, you filthy coward!"
Scrimgeour stepped in front of Sirius towards Flint, pointing his wand between the prisoner’s eyes, and coerced, "Speak about the coordinates, Flint. Details! How?"
As if a great weight was pressing against his body, Marcus gasped for air and then in a strained voice answered, "The coordinates, Canis Major at its zenith, then cast the spell Portio Constellatio!" Flint fell silent momentarily before adding in a quiet, breathless voice, "She… your Pansy, she gave me Canis Major in the constellation of Orion as our meeting point."
"But why was the constellation of Orion chosen?" asked Hermione calmly, even though the perpetuation of growing violent efforts was unnerving her. For she felt at any second, someone would hex Flint, silencing him permanently.
"Pansy chose it—she had always wanted him!" cried out Flint, turning his head and glowering at Sirius. "My whole life I had secretly admired you, Black… Pansy and I at Hogwarts, we had held your actions up on a pedestal, murdering all of those Muggles… Fucking brilliant, we thought you were! But then, the truth was revealed—you were a fraud… How could you do that to your own kind?"
Marcus’ entire body convulsed and then he panted, "When I first tried the spell, the constellations revealed themselves to me…" Marcus’ body went into spasm again. "So beautiful, the winter triangle had appeared, shining brightly… but it was Procyon which beckoned me, the other Dog star in the constellation Canis Minor. So bloody bright it was, always preceding Sirius… I calculated my coordinates, and after procuring my first life energy, I cast the spell." He clenched his eyes tight, and Hermione saw his facial muscles spasm in some kind of exquisite pain.
Then to everyone’s surprise, even in his rapidly declining state, Marcus began to laugh softly to himself in between spurting out, "I was transferred. Procyon is a binary star—my coordination brought me to its mutual parallax. It brought me to Pansy, my true Pansy, my twin."
"To Sirius’ universe?" asked Hermione.
"Yessss, Granger."
Marcus glowered at Sirius. "I was the Minor, you the Major." His eyes closed and his head slunk down, and it appeared that the interrogation had come to a halt.
The room fell silent, and they all stared at the prisoner. Only the sounds of everyone’s heavy breathing was heard.
However, Scrimgeour was brooding over something and still determined to get some further answers. He shot a spell at Flint, apparently reviving him, and barked, "You said Parkinson found you in the Space Room there? She, who instructed you from Black’s original universe? Flint? Parkinson, who instructed you how to come here? Answer me!"
Marcus raised his head a few inches and hissed, "Yesssss… She was there and received me, told me not to fear when I started to corporeally fluctuate and began to return—it was she who told me to harvest another life energy and then return to the very same heavenly coordinates to her, and she would then tell me how to make a permanent leap. It was she who told me I needed a third life energy, but in order to not fluctuate back, I must join with a living force, a living conduit, and it must be kept alive until I decided whether I would stay or not… "
"‘Three is the charm’ Pansy said—three life forces… plus one living conduit, Sirius for her, and me used by you," whispered Hermione aloud, remembering Parkinson’s cryptic words to her.
Marcus tilted his head to one side, staring at Hermione. "Yessss. For she had procured her third—that raggedy filth Moody—and was ready to transport herself." Marcus’ features darkened, and he looked as if he would go unconscious, but then spoke in a low, strained voice, "Pansy told me to return, procure my third life energy, join and spell myself through my conduit and meet her in…" His face twisted and he grimaced. "Canis Major."
Shacklebolt gave an all-knowing look and pressed, "Parkinson had been here, experimented herself with the coordinates to Canis Major because of her obsession with Sirius, and she chose here? But were there any other reasons she had in choosing here as both of yours final destination, Flint?"
Marcus struggled momentarily but then managed to answer, "She said it was ripe for the taking; she’d made contact with the Undersecretary from her earlier experimental transference. She had found a true pureblood leader, one who was a supporter of the ways of Herpo the Great, a top follower of the Dark Lord’s, who was on the verge of taking the Ministry, and with our help in doing away with those who stood in his way, we would soon have the Wizarding world the way it was meant to be."
"But you allowed me, a Mudblood, to live?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, I allowed you to live; Pansy let Black live, not sure at first if she would stay here or not… but when I came, she—well, she decided, we decided—we knew we had found a parallel universe where… the bloodtraitor Shacklebolt didn't know that there was about to be a new Minister—a new Wizarding Order! At long last, purebloods would rightfully get their own justice for being the true defenders of magickind in at least one universe!"
Sirius demanded clarification. "A new Minister? Malfoy?"
"But first, to get rid of all of you filth...," snarled Flint. "In the beginning, Pansy and I thought we still needed you two... needed you alive that is. Our living conduits. But soon, we'd mutually agreed that your services were no longer needed, as we'd found the perfect place for us."
Shacklebolt stepped closer to in front of Marcus raising his wand and spelling him to meet his gaze, asking, "The Undersecretary’s plan for Muggle-born registration was to be the first step in the takeover?"
"A minor first step—but no, Black and Granger needed to be got rid of—that was to be next, agreed upon by all. Pansy had wanted to keep Black around for her personal amusement, but you were too annoying… too loyal a blood-traitor, Black. But with you soon out of the way, a coup d’état, assassinating a vulnerable Shacklebolt would be so easy."
"With Lucius Malfoy to replace me?" pressed Shacklebolt.
"Yes!"
"No, Flint. One Undersecretary will be got rid of. Your plans have failed. However, you've given sufficient evidence to proceed in charging and arresting him," informed Scrimgeour, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. Then, the Chief Warlock cleared his throat and straightened up to his full height, announcing, "Marcus Flint, having been found guilty of unspeakable abominations against Wizardkind, the sequencing of events which led you through your atrocious experiments have been recorded, and thus, you will return now to Azkaban where the Dementor’s await you, and upon signal, you shall be given over to them and receive the Dementor’s Kiss, your soul extracted from your body until you are but an empty shell."
And with that sentencing, a Silencing Spell was placed upon Marcus by Scrimgeour, shielding them further from his expletives and screams as he was lowered into the dark hole of earth in the interrogation gaol cell chambre, disappearing from sight.

                                                       * H *
The air was thick with anxiousness as Hermione, Sirius and Harry stood outside the Space Chamber, waiting for Minister Shacklebolt and Chief Warlock Scrimgeour to exit from it at any second. She and Harry watched Sirius pacing back and forth like a panther, giving a wary look at the Chamber’s door, so when she heard Sirius huff impatiently, she asked, "What is it, Sirius?"
Sirius hesitated before answering, "I remember how Parkinson from my universe lured me into this room… Moody had been murdered. I was pacing the corridors—"
"Like now?" Hermione placed a hand on his arm to still him.
His eyes flashing at her touch, Sirius’ brow furrowed. "Parkinson told me… She told me you wanted to—the Hermione there was waiting for me… She wanted to speak to me in private… You wanted me…"
His memory has come back since Pansy went through the Veil, her amulet no longer affects him… thought Hermione wistfully, squeezing his arm gently in support.
"Do you remember when she first, er, bewitched you, Sirius?" asked Harry.
"It was in my dungeon cell, at Malfoy Manor… She came to me and brought me something cool to drink, something soothing, something to reduce my stress," he recalled slowly. "How convenient for her that she also worked in the Love Room, her abilities with Love potions was considered to be exceptional."
Harry seemed to be trying to lighten Sirius’ mood, saying, "There’s rumour that there’s a fountain of Amortentia in the Love Room… I’d imagine it powerful stuff, eh?"
"Nah, Amortentia is one thing… but love," his eyes met Hermione’s, "is something that no one can concoct and regulate. Even the Ministry, try as they might."
The tension between them was abruptly broken as Minister Shacklebolt, followed by Scrimgeour, came out of the Space Room and announced, "The astronomical measurements of the distance between the planets and projection of the constellation is confirmed—the celestial sphere is at the zenith of Canis Major—the coordinates between +60° and -90° in the Orion constellation. Sirius, Hermione, the celestial sphere is unsealed—your portal back to your home place and time has been revealed, spelled opened, ready for you to transport back!"
Scrimgeour gave Hermione and Sirius a shrewd and sobering look, holding out the ensorcelled amulet to them. "Black, Granger, upon casting the spell, the channel point of the celestial spheres will open; the current of the portal that allows the wizard possessing the life-force of the procured energy vortex to reach and portal one to the calculated destination will be yours for transporting." The Chief Warlock placed the amulet into Hermione’s hand carefully. "As you know, the final incantation is Portus Constellatio. Be careful and use caution. Once you have decided whether only one of you will safely go or if you will risk both of you—well, that is between the two of you to decide."
"We’ll be here and stand by you, whichever choice you make," added Harry, pausing to push his spectacles up, "and whoever comes out—we’re here for you."
"Say what you have to say to the Minister and Potter and then…" Scrimgeour cleared his throat authoritatively and motioned curtly to the opening of the Space Room. "Then enter and make your choice. Your final choice." His eyes narrowed. "Whoever comes out, whether it is you or your counterpart, well then, that will be that. However, if the cursed amulet is still unused, it will be destroyed, and your gateway back forever lost. For Marcus Flint will receive the Dementor’s Kiss momentarily after your final decision. And with that, the curse and your celestial Portkey shall be ended."
Hermione couldn’t help observing, "But, sir, if not used, must the amulet be destroyed? Perhaps its elements should be studied further and used for—"
"No, Granger. It must be destroyed immediately and will be. This heresy has endangered the Wizarding world as we know and cherish it. Prevention is everything. With Flint’s death, the originating perpetrator will be silenced for good. And his evil magic shall be destroyed simultaneously." Scrimgeour looked at them sharply, astute as ever. "All for the greater good, Auror Granger."
                                                          * H *
In the Space Chamber, both Hermione and Sirius stared up at the heavens between the planets. She gave a slow look around the dubious, mystical space, feeling a strange tingle course through her and cause the amulet to pulse in her palm.
The constellation Canis Major shown brightly, twinkling in mocking clarity at them, daring them to take the plunge back into the unknown.
"Once we go through, the calculations reveal that…" Hermione stopped, suddenly unsure now that the moment of decision had actually arrived. She repeated the one sure fact, "So the portal will be closed forever to us."
"Forever is a long time," commented Sirius, slowly spooning up behind her, holding her to him for what was to be the last time.
Hermione stood solid, unmoving, not responding to his touch, but not resisting him either. She slowly spoke, "We must go back in reverse… I, first, followed by you, and our parallel selves will be switched back to each one’s own universe. Theoretically, that is." She felt his embrace tighten and gently reminded him, "The incantations must be synchronized to be effective, to portal us back to our respective dimension of existence…"
"To portal you back."
Hermione twisted around in his arms, facing Sirius.
"What?"
"I’ve been thinking… This amulet’s life force could portal us both back, respectively, but based on what we found in Flint’s premises and cross-checked calculations, it will for certain portal one of us—Shacklebolt, Scrimgeour, and you confirm that."
"But we also calculated and agreed that we could both be portalled—the life-force and Dark energy Flint was continually syphoning, Borgin’s life energy, the Dark artefacts, and Merlin only knows what or who else—there should be more than enough."
"But we can’t be sure. And I won’t allow you to risk—" Sirius’ voice broke. Hermione saw that his eyes were flashing with emotion as he said, "You need to go back—I need to stay here, be here…"
"For the other Hermione?"
"No. No, not like that." He looked at her, his pain visceral. "She is not you—there is no one like you. I have no illusions that she will hate me… loathe me more than ever."
Sirius’ eyes grew sad and thoughtful. "But she will need someone who understands… the insanity she’s experienced. Perhaps it will destroy her, her loss of paradise refound with Weasley alive and well, there, in your universe… and then to be thrown back here…"
He took a deep breath and repeated, "She will need someone who understands… who understands some part of her and who understands what it means to lose that one person who makes you feel whole."
"If I can help her, even from afar, behind the scenes, I will. Perhaps she’ll let Harry, but… It broke her the first time around. I fear she will be pushed beyond help, but… Well, I’ll help Harry to help her as best I can. "
I thought you said that she had fully recovered from Weasley's death, from her little break-down— Hermione remembered what Malfoy had said about her doppelgänger.
Hermione felt a twist and a sharp tug within her towards him uncontrollably. "And you, Sirius?"
He gave her a bittersweet smile, saying calmly, "Don’t worry, kiddo, I was capable of withstanding long periods of emotional torture and despair in my world. I’ll be able to handle whatever this one throws my way. One day at a time, wouldn’t you agree?"
She took a deep breath, whispering, "Hold me."
"Will you remember me, remember this?" He gave her a gentle but firm squeeze, holding her protectively to him.
Hermione turned her head upwards and looked again up at the Canis Major constellation twinkling in the dark ominous void. "I-I don’t know; no one does for sure. There are lots of theories, speculations that travelers to parallel universes might be able to share their memories, their lives with their other selves in another universe, but others say that we can’t. No one truly knows for certain. But Flint seemed to be able to… even though there were various experimental stages…"
Her shoulders rose and fell as she took began to breathe deeply and uneasily. She clung to him tightly, whispering fiercely, "I don’t ever want to forget this—you—ever!"
"But what if…" Sirius paused and then spoke slowly, "Again, what if we were meant… you were meant to stay right here."
Hermione’s eyes grew wide with emotion. "Please, don’t. Not again. Not now, here at the end."
He said firmly, "What if we were meant not to go back? By Flint’s confessions, my counterpart self has gone to either a Hermione who’ll never…," his voice broke off and then became hoarse, "or he has gone to his death." He held her even tighter. "Flint was unstable. His magic unstable, the reverse of it potentially fatal—for you! I’ll never know if you returned safely… and if you return to true happiness, fulfillment."
"Fulfillment?"
Hermione searched his dark orbs, lost herself in them as her lips pressed against his. He immediately reciprocated with a volatile chemistry and intensity, causing an all-consuming energy to encompass her. She felt they were joined beyond the heat and melding of their bodies and needs. His hardness pressing against her, his clasping of her felt a vital part of her own extension—she did not want to break away.
"Hermione? I know I must let you go…" He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her fragrance, clasping her lovingly, whispering, "Remember me. Remember this."
Hermione moaned under his lips, as his met hers again, and again the same painful argument twisting inside her, but this time fading quicker to the back recesses of her mind, and the present life force kissing her took precedence and dominated her reality. She felt Sirius’ hands touch her as if to record every inch of her into his memory, causing her to tremble as he heatedly repeated, whispering in her ear, "I love you… Remember…"
Even as he said it, she began to feel an indescribable, overwhelming sensation and… oneness with Sirius. It was physical, emotional… beyond her senses. She’d never experienced a man wanting her, needing her, consuming her as Sirius and his energy did.
"Remember me," he was whispering. "Remember me… us… Remember. Always remember."
She couldn’t let go of him. She could only clutch at and kiss him—hard and demanding, something snapped deep within her, and she could not let go. Would not let go.
Ever.
He kissed her on the neck in swirling motions until she moaned his name. "Sirius!"
Her thoughts were racing, I’m not who I thought I was and unsure as to who I am or will be…but it must be with him— my existence, our existence… together…
In the celestially lit room, they were moving, undulating, grappling; her back hit a hard wall surface and their entangled bodies slid downwards, and they proceeded consummating in that esoteric chamber of mystery their final answers to each other, their destinies, and their once and for all resolute choice. Their life force crackled with energy as they brought it to fruition and made their final decision.
It would be an undeterminable amount of time later, but the Space Chamber’s door would open again, open to their new lives—the life they chose to now live, for their third-time’s-a-charm existence.
                                                             oOoOoOo
Clasping Sirius tightly, Hermione welcomed the feel of the cool night air as it hit her exposed skin, speeding along on the back seat of his Harley Davidson. She squeezed him even tighter as the motorcycle roared into top gear. She felt a fantastic wildness and freedom as the evening stars flurried above as they sped along the A1.
The blurred forms of people and buildings flowed along as they joined the hum and hub of centre London thoroughfares.
She held onto him for life, tighter and tighter, enjoying every sensation she was experiencing.
Her body and mind thrummed with life and vibrating magic as they rode into the Borough of Islington and soon pulled up in front of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
As Sirius turned off the motor, she slowly let go of him only to climb off from the passenger’s seat behind. She had barely taken off her helmet before she felt herself swept into his arms with a wonderful, crushing kiss followed by his eager nuzzling of her neck.
His soft moustache’s touching and tickling her made her squeal with delight, rising on her tiptoes as his fingers were shimmying there way lower and lower down her back to her bum. She laughed as he teased, whispering in her ear, "How’s my motorcyclist straddling sweetheart?"
She drew his head towards her lips, whispering back, "Straddling a leather seat is bliss."
She bit her lip momentarily trying to contain her pent-up emotion and then gave him a knowing smile and kiss, saying, "But straddling my husband is so much better."
Sirius gave her his best wolfish grin. "Lucky we’ve finally arrived home, love."
Hermione gave him a long kiss before breaking it off and looked him adoringly in the eyes, "I love you."
                                                            *H*
Yes, finally, they were home, at peace and living in the moment, in the here and now that they had chosen.
They would take one day at a time, participating in and defending the Wizarding world in this chosen universe, as they had always done—for a certain, dubious Undersecretary Malfoy was the first on a long list of those to be investigated amongst other wrongs to be righted as best one could. This imperfect universe was theirs to experience… perfectly together.
Hermione smiled a smile of contentment to Sirius. Their previous parallel dilemma had transformed into an unforeseen state of being and enduring strength: a happiness like none other she had ever felt nor wanted to live without. She felt equal and at peace with him, and he with her.
For they had let go of their dilemma and were graced to be able to embrace the here and now, come what may. Together.
                                                     oOoOo   FIN oOoOo
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Parallel Dilemma