Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's stuff is still, and will always be, J.K. Rowling's stuff.
Chapter1: Grimmauld Place
Three excruciatingly long weeks Hermione had been holed up in number twelve Grimmauld Place with no information except for what Fred and George's extendable ears gleamed by slipping through the door cracks. Occasionally she would see members of the Order quietly come and go as she went about her day, but for the most part, her time was occupied by the Weasleys and the cleaning of Sirius' house. With a bottle of potent Doxycide in her hand and a makeshift mask covering her mouth and nose, Hermione thought that surely there must be something more useful that she could be doing with her time.
She idly sprayed the Doxycide at the rotting moth-eaten curtains for what must have been the hundredth time and a fully grown Doxy fluttered to the worn floor with a soft *PLINK*. It was a good thing that Harry was flying in tonight or she just might go stir-crazy. As much as she adored the Weasleys, there really was no substitute for her best friend. That, and frankly, she hated being the only one that Mr. Weasley went to in order to extract information about the various functions of muggle objects. If only there were some way to bypass the charms that were put on the doors during official Order meetings…all of the adults were very adamant that the "children" not become privy to any useful information whatsoever, and all that the genius extendable ears got them so far were worried words about guarding something, but Hermione would gamble this year's textbooks (well maybe not all of her textbooks…a girl has to read after all) that the only thing the Order was guarding was Harry.
"Extendable Ears…What a bunch of useless fluff..." Hermione absentmindedly mumbled aloud as she halfheartedly sprayed another section of the drapes.
*CRACK*
Fred and George apparated not two feet from Hermione and it was all she could do to stifle a yell. After three weeks of these two popping up all over the place one would have thought that she would be used to their constant apparating and disapparating, but the truth was that the whole process was entirely too loud for Hermione's liking—that and she had the sneaking suspicion that the twins tried to startle as many people as they could while they had the opportunity.
"What was that sound we heard?" One of the twins asked in a perfectly practiced bemused tone. "Was it the sound of Doxys pit-pattering to the ground?"
"It must have been," The other said, shaking his head confusedly, "because it couldn't have been the sound of someone bashing our products. Especially the ears that we've been working months to manufacture…not when the witch doing the bashing knows full well that if there is a complaint with one of our products she could fill out our rather long—"
"—yet practical-" the first interjected.
"questionnaire." At this moment he made a quick gesture that resulted in a scroll of parchment unfolding from his uplifted hand.
Hermione pulled down her mask and rolled her eyes. Ever since they received the funds to actually start manufacturing real products, Fred and George had been working nonstop to create as many innovative items as they could. Their goal, though, was to create as many of these items while simultaneously getting the figurative seal of approval from one of their idols, Sirius Black. Hoping to garner "valuable knowledge from the master" (their words, not hers) they developed a rather lengthy questionnaire that addressed everything from whether or not Sirius could see any practical application, to things as simple as whether or not Sirius liked the color. While Hermione secretly thought their dedication admirable, she couldn't help but be annoyed. Having been forced to fill out two of the questionnaires already, she now found out why, other than Mrs. Weasley, no one dared to complain or offer suggestions about the twin's merchandise.
"Fred," she said, facing the first brother.
"—I'm George—"
"—Whatever." As if that knowledge were inconsequential, Hermione fluttered her hand impatiently. "Surely you two realize that there must be some way to bypass the spells put on the doors."
"Hermione, if you're thinking what we think you're thinking—" Fred said.
"—and we're pretty sure that you are—"said George.
"-then you'll have to trust us when we say—"
"-that we've already tried it." They finished in unison.
Exasperated, Hermione huffed and pointed around the room. "Yes I know but—"
"No ifs, ands, or buts about it Hermione, if you can think it, then we've tried it." Fred chirped matter-of-factly.
"You really have no idea how difficult it is being a professional sneak 'mione. No one does. I would say that we're not only underutilized, but underappreciated as well." George claimed dramatically as he inelegantly flopped on the couch in a large puff of dust.
Ignoring the sudden fit of coughs behind her, Hermione continued, facing Fred. "So what do you propose that we do then? I mean, not to say that the extendable ears aren't working, but they really haven't turned up much information. And if we can't enchant something with an adequate spell that would help us, then there must be something buried underneath all of this junk—" Hermione looked distastefully around the room at all of the mysterious objects and trinkets still shrouded in dust, "—that could be of use!"
Two mortified gasps echoed throughout the large room and Fred clasped his hand to his chest; both shooting her looks of utter disbelief.
"Did you hear that George?"
"I'm sorry to say that I did Fred." George replied pityingly. "Ah, to be so woefully young and misguided…" he flicked an imaginary tear from his cheek and Hermione scoffed.
"What, you two don't actually believe that in the whole of this house there isn't one piece of rubbish?" She spouted condescendingly.
"Haven't you heard the saying 'one man's trash is another man's treasure' Hermione?" Inquired Fred. "For instance," he turned to walk over to a large curio filled to the brim with filthy miscellaneous items, "our many lessons with the 'Teacher of Trickery'—"
"The 'Professor of Puns'—"
"The 'Magister of Mischief'—"
"Sirius Black you mean." Deadpanned Hermione, interrupting whatever clever title one of the twins would've surely spouted out next.
Unperturbed, Fred continued, "The one and only Sirius Black, yes. As I was saying, during some of our many lessons in which we asked about everything worth knowing in this house, he pointed out some items that though often viewed as junk by small-minded persons, are startlingly useful if one had the need or inclination to use them."
Hermione bristled at the small-minded jab, but nevertheless let herself be guided over to where Fred was standing.
"Now this shady looking bauble here was collected by Sirius' dear old mum after winning it in a—dare I say—rigged game of cards with some thieves from Albania."
"He always did say his mum was ruthless…" George mumbled to himself, smiling.
Fred continued, "It can print multiple coins at once…Galleons, Sickles, Knuts, but leaves a curse on the one that tries to use the item for personal gain. They say that his mother kept out of public for a month before the curse finally wore off." He shook his head but was unrelenting in offering up what Hermione considered worthless facts.
And then this," he pointed to what looked like a dried strip of leather, "this is a piece of skin from the now extinct Tibetan Bluewing, a dragon that would make Harry's Horntail look like an overgrown iguana." Seeing Hermione's look of disbelief Fred just nodded and continued to explain. "Just a pinch of that there dried skin added to someone's pumpkin juice, and the poor bloke would never take another breath again."
"Were the Blacks ever in possession of anything that doesn't cause immediate physical harm when touched?" Hermione asked, slightly sickened that just yesterday she was supposed to have cleaned the contents of the curio.
"Now Hermione," George said. "We mustn't judge the poor man on his less than optimal upbringing. There's not a whole lot of sunshine and rainbow Slytherin artifacts. However, I see your point. Show her a couple of the others Fred, and maybe less of the dreary ones this time."
Fred harrumphed but nodded grudgingly. Without George's intervention, Hermione was sure that he could've been quite content to thoroughly explain each and every one of the trinkets encased within the curio. How the twins scraped by with as many O.W.L.s as they did, Hermione would never know. If only they had applied their memorization skills to their studies….
Her train of thought was interrupted as she spied an item within the cabinet that looked extremely similar to her old time-turner. Granted, it wasn't on a chain, nor was the metal embellished with the small inscription that Hermione had become all too familiar with in her third year. In comparison, what she was staring at in the curio seemed to her rather…plain.
"What about that one?" She said, pointing at the item in question. "What does that do?"
"Oh! Now we're talking!" Fred exclaimed with a knowing grin. "That little beauty is one of the original seven prototypes to the time-turner."
"Why would anyone need seven prototypes?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Well that's just it, innit? To develop the product, the prototypes had to be tested and refined. The blokes that put these together originally created seven of these that were exactly alike, and they used each one to help correct certain flaws in the system. Luckily they sorted out all of the flaws after the sixth original turner was used, rendering the seventh—this one—completely useless, and much too dangerous to ever use. So what you see here before you is the last of the originals, without any modifications whatsoever."
"So what exactly are the differences between this one and the modern ones then?"
"Well for instance," George piped up helpfully, "This one would be rendered irreparable after use. A big ugly crack would split the hourglass in two, leaving you however many years you went into the past—"
"Years?!" Hermione interjected suddenly. "But in the library, every book I've read about time-turners has said that the most someone could flip the hourglass was six times, putting the person six hours into the past, and even then, it was strongly recommended that at most only turn the glass five times, so as to not cause any lasting damage to time itself, let alone whatever damage going back that far would do to the wearer!" Hermione said all of this very quickly, as if she had previously memorized the information. "I can only imagine what damage could be done if someone went years into the past!" Her eyes suddenly widened so that Fred and George could see more white than usual. Still in utter shock, she turned her head from the curio to get a better look at the twins' faces. "Just how far back would one turn take someone? One year? Two?" She demanded.
"Ah. Now here's where it gets weird," said George, oblivious to Hermione's obvious distress. "Whoever set the prototype's dial must have been a real nitwit—"
"A nutter for sure." Concurred Fred.
"—because one turn would theoretically take the user back nine and a half years…"
The rest of what George said was lost on Hermione as she echoed in a whisper "nine and a half years." Still reeling, Hermione dazedly asked, "But where would Sirius even get something like this?"
Now Fred looked stumped. It would seem, Hermione thought with a smirk, that they didn't pay as much attention as she had thought.
"Um…who was it again George? It couldn't have been his crazy uncle…he died ages ago…" Fred muttered more to himself than to the other two.
George had his face scrunched up in what looked like painful concentration before he snapped his fingers, surprising Hermione and his brother. "You know, I think that might have been the one that came from the old bat whatshername—"
"—Close, but still a little off the mark." Interrupted a voice from the doorway with a barely concealed smile. Sirius Black walked across the musty room to get a better look at what lay within the Curio. That particular piece was given as a present to my brother Regulus from the very overzealous and avid collector, Hepzibah Smith, before her death." He glanced at Hermione before continuing. "She was before my time, so I'm afraid that I personally couldn't attest to her being an 'old bat,' but she did amass a very large collection of magical antiquities, most of which were claimed to have belonged to the four founders of Hogwarts. So while still being a rare gift, in retrospect, this prototype was incredibly easy for her to give away…"
As he was finishing his last thought, Hermione could hear the faint thudding of someone running down the steps towards the room they were all in. Ginny hurriedly popped her head past the door frame, her face flushed as she said, "Oy, you lot! Haven't you heard? Harry's just arrived!"
A grin blossomed on Sirius' face as he rushed out of the room, not only to see his godson, but to probably make sure that the arriving party didn't awaken the portrait of his dearly departed mother, Hermione suspected. Almost simultaneously to Sirius' rushed departure, two very loud *CRACKs* were heard, leaving Hermione alone in the room.
Hermione mulled over the information she just received. Regardless of how fascinating Sirius Black's heirlooms may or may not be, she was in the exact same position as she had been before. They still had no way whatsoever of getting any real Order information…and from what she had seen, there was nothing in this creaking, ancient house that would help her further that goal...
Suddenly it clicked and Hermione grinned. There was nothing from what she had seen!
She rushed down the steps, not caring if she woke up all the portraits—although by the sound of things downstairs, the fliers managed to wake up Mrs. Black after all—and she didn't stop until she nearly crashed into Harry.
"Oof! 'Mione…" Harry breathed, shocked.
"Oh Harry it's so good to see you! We're all so glad that you're here safe!" She gestured for him to go on over to where Sirius and Ron were standing. "Now while you boys catch up, go on and hand me your trunk, I'll help you unpack."
A/N: please keep in mind, that while reviews are not necessary, they are in fact, appreciated ;) Let me know what you think so far!