A Story In Five Acts
by Hibob
Terry Prachett owns the Characters of Johnny Maxwell, his friends and family.
JK Rowling owns Harry Potter et. al.
I own a 1997 Geo Metro.
Introduction:
Terry Prachett wrote a book in1996. The title was Johnny and the Bomb. It concerned the adventures of a thirteen-year-old boy with short brown hair, who went by the name of Johnny Maxwell. He lived a normal, if unnecessarily complicated, life in the town of Blackbury. He cheerfully attended Blackbury Middle School, although most of the cheerfulness was shown when he was leaving it at the end of each day. In the past he claimed that he had been dragged into a computer game by invading aliens who wanted to surrender instead of fighting any more. Then there was the time he insisted that he could actually see dead people. The Alderman said it was because he was too lazy not to, but he had been dead for nearly eighty-five years. His best friend, Wobbler, said it was because Johnny was mental. There was also the time he claimed that the Loch Ness Monster was living in his goldfish bowl, but he was probably trying to impress people.
The most recent thing Johnny had done, was to travel back in time by the unlikely means of a shopping trolley, owned by Mrs. Tachyon the bag-lady, more accurately the time-bag-lady. Apparently, Mrs. Tachyon collected bits of time the way someone else might collect string. She kept the bits she found in bags she had piled into her trolley.
Johnny, with his friends, ended up in his hometown of Blackbury, on the morning of a fateful day in 1941. That night, German Bombers, off course because of the storm, bombed (will bomb) a section of the town, instead of the goods yard at Slate. Nineteen people died (will die) in the raid, which would be (will be) known in history, mostly footnotes, as the Blackbury Blitz.
Johnny Maxwell changed that (would - well, you get the picture). Racing against the clock, he and his friends, with young Tom (who would become Johnny's grandfather) rushed to sound the siren but they were too late. The bombs began to fall. Johnny used his newly learned time-traveling abilities (His friend Kirsty said it only worked because Johnny was not smart enough to realize that it wouldn't) and brought everyone to the station with seven minutes to spare. The Siren was sounded in time. Miraculously, no one died.
Johnny and his friends returned home to 1996, to find a few interesting changes. A street or two had a different name. The old card shop was now a jewelry store. Things like that. But Johnny's friends no longer remembered that things had been different. Kirsty, being very smart, held onto the truth the longest, but her memories of things changing faded as well.
When Johnny arrived home, his grandfather stopped watching the TV, to talk to him. He even turned it off, which was unheard of. They talked about the war, and old Tom showed his grandson the medal he received. Johnny saw an old deck of playing cards, and took a matching one, but much newer in appearance, out of his pocket and returned it to the deck. A look of understanding passed between the two, but nothing was said. Then the moment passed.
A knock came at the door, shortly after, and Kirsty was there standing in the rain. She had found something in her pocket, a pickled onion, (from the bombed pickle factory) and that reminded her of what had happened. She had jumped off the bus and had run all the way back to let him know.
Act One: The Other Trouser Leg
Time is like a pair of trousers. Time travel, to continue the analogy, is like going down one of the trouser legs. Under normal circumstances you can only travel down one trouser leg and in only one direction. When you travel in time, in the un-normal circumstances you travel either in the other direction, or in the same direction at a much faster speed. The problem is that, at some point, near the waist band, you have the possibility of going back down the other trouser leg.
Johnny Maxwell did this very thing. He went into the past, and prevented a terrible catastrophe from happening. That is a redundancy, because all catastrophes are terrible, at least they are supposed to be. Be that as it may, when Johnny returned, he used the other trouser leg, because the first one was no longer there. Actually, it was there, but not as accessible as it had been. He changed the past, then returned to a different present. It seemed at first to be the same as the old present. A street or two had a different name. The old card shop was now a jewelry store. Things like that. If you read the introduction, you already know this.
Some things changed in a better way. Johnny had a grandfather who always sat in a chair and did nothing. His grandmother was senile and in a nursing home. His mother was divorced and worked to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads, his grandfather's roof to be specific. His Grandfather changed the most. He talked to Johnny, now, even to the point of turning the TV off. (That was also mentioned in the introduction.) And Johnny would find that his mother was more at ease. Unfortunately, his grandmother was still in the nursing home, and his parents were still divorced. Some things did not change.
Scene One: October 6, 1996
Johnny had been up for a long time, and even longer after talking with Kirsty. When she left, both were happier with their shared knowledge. Even though it was still early on Friday, and since it was October, and not a more convenient month, such as August, and he should have been in school, he decided that a nap would be a better idea. He lay down on his bed and fell asleep quite easily. It would have been more interesting if Johnny had stayed awake for a little longer.
The sharp sound of a hand hitting wood woke Johnny up. He sat up in his seat oddly thinking that he should have been lying down. He rubbed his eyes, and stared at a tall man with greasy black hair.
"How dare you," the man hissed, "Are you so pathetically ignorant that you don't even pretend to pay attention? Twenty points from Gryffindor, and you may see me after class, Mr. Maxwell. Do you understand?"
Johnny simply stared at the man while he was verbally abused. The man was wearing a robe, not a bathrobe, but a robe like people in far away places wore. When a pause came in the man's banter, Johnny answered the question with the only answer he could think of.
"Um, No."
The man actually took a step back in surprise, "You don't understand? That must be worth at least another ten points. Would you like me to explain it to you?"
Murmurs could be heard, as the man yelled for silence. Johnny glanced around the room, and figured out he was in some kind of classroom, like a chemistry class in a dream gone wrong, except it did not feel like a dream. He saw that everyone was dress in identical black robes, and when he wiped his now sweaty palms on his pants, he realized he was wearing robes as well. That meant that the man who was yelling at him was a teacher. In Johnny's mental lexicon, this was not a good thing.
"Excuse me," Johnny said quietly, then added, "Sir." Encouraged that he wasn't immediately yelled at, he asked, "Where am I?"
"Professor Snape, Sir," a Slytherin said, "I think he's finally lost it."
Without taking his eyes off Johnny, Snape said, "Baddock, would you like to see me take points off my own house? Or would you rather I forget that you said anything?" He then said to Johnny, with mock sweetness, "How specific would you like me to be? Would you like to know what class this is? Or perhaps what school you go to? Would you like the answer to that question?"
"I go to Middle School, Sir," Johnny said, quickly, "Blackbury Middle School."
Snape stopped smiling. This was not the right answer. Carefully, he said, "McDonald, take Mr. Maxwell to see Madam Pomfrey. Tell her I will be along shortly."
"Where am I?" Johnny asked, in a daze.
"Apparently, you were so tired, you came to the wrong school," Snape said with a condescending smile.
Johnny weakly smiled at the small joke, more because it was unexpected than anything else. A girl came up to him and took his hand to lead him away. Suddenly Johnny became fully alert and clear headed. "Please, what is the year, and the date?"
Snape looked at the boy and his sudden change and said slowly, "1996, October 6."
"That's impossible," Johnny said, "That's today."
Severus Snape looked at Johnny Maxwell as though he had never seen him before.
The girl, McDonald, pulled on Johnny's hand, and ushered him out of the potions class.
Headmistress McGonagall looked at the sleeping boy. "Poppy, did you give him a sleeping potion."
"I didn't have to," Madam Pomfrey said, "I had him lay down while I examined him, and he fell asleep before he hit the pillow. Outside of minor scrapes and cuts that any boy his age would have, his only problem was exhaustion. I would guess he had been up for at least a day and a half, maybe longer."
"Severus," Minerva asked, "You said he was surprised at today's date."
"Close, he was surprised that the date I gave him was the same as today's date. It was as though everything would have made more sense to him if I had given a different date."
Minerva McGonagall paced for a bit, mulling over the short conversation that Severus had related to him. John Maxwell was not the brightest student in the school, but he was not as stupid as some made him out to be. The boy did have a refreshing way of looking at things, and a tendency to daydream. What had happened was completely out of the ordinary.
"Poppy, keep him here for tonight. Wake him up near to dinner time. I think I will join him for what should be an interesting conversation."
Scene Two: September 1, 1996, Kings Cross Station
Molly Weasley looked at her son with concern, as she walked with him through Kings Cross Station. "Please let me help you with your trunk?" She asked again.
"I'm Fi-ine, mum," Ron said as he lumbered forward pulling his trunk with a palsied hand. "I can ma-anage."
She looked proudly at her son. It had been three years last May, and Ron never faltered. She remembered that day, bitterly. Dumbledore had come to the Burrow to tell her and Arthur about their daughter, Ginny. It wasn't only her, but the teacher, Lockhart, and poor Harry Potter. That Ron had lived was the miracle. The doctors at St. Mungo's said it was brain damage. They could heal all of the other wounds and the broken bones, but . . .
Ron hated the pity. He never became used to it, and it still stung him. He dragged his leg, and pulled the trunk after him in a jerky rhythm he had developed. It was hard, but it got the job done. He gave his mom the half smile, to show her he wasn't upset. Then he heard his mother say, a little too thankfully, "There's Colin Creevey. He's in your house, isn't he."
Ron looked up, and nodded his head. Colin was a fifth year, one year behind him. He was a big fan of the famous Harry Potter when he first came to Hogwarts, and became one of Ron's few friends, after . . . after what happened.
"Coli-in," Ron called, and Creevey looked up at the approaching figures and waved.
"Ron, anxious to get back," Colin said in his forced cheerfulness.
Ron smiled and nodded. "Hello," he said to Colin's parents, who gave him the patronizing smile adults usually gave him. "Hi De-ennis," Ron said to the younger boy standing there, "Read-dy for scho-ool?"
"Wetton's doesn't start till the third," Dennis said, in mock humor, "I still have two more days of vacation."
"He was first in his class, last year," Mrs, Creevey said, trying to sound proud.
"He's a smart one," Molly Weasley said, "He'd be first in his class, anywhere."
Ron loved his mom for that. She said things like that with sincerity. Wetton's wasn't a bad school, Ron knew, but it was the school that everyone went to, if they didn't get in anywhere else. "There's always room at Wetton's" people would say. As a rule, the only smart kids who went there were the ones who couldn't afford to go to a 'proper' school. There were always a couple of kids each year, like Dennis, who expected to get into a particular school, and didn't plan on an alternative. By the time his parents admitted to themselves that Dennis wasn't going to Hogwarts, there was no longer any time to place him elsewhere. The rosters had been filled for every school, except Wetton's. It was a sore point among the Creeveys.
"Um," a voice said behind them, "Um."
Ron turned to see John Maxwell. He was a third year student, who was best known for saying 'um' a great deal, and for being largely unnoticed. Now, John looked nervous.
"Hello, John," Colin said, and John visibly relaxed.
"Can I follow you to the train?" John asked, almost pleading, forcing everyone to laugh at his embarrassment.
Ron looked at the younger boy and said, "Forgot whe-ere to go-o again."
John looked at him curiously and nodded, receiving another round of friendly laughter.
"Um, I'm sorry," John said, "It's, um, things."
Ron nodded, knowingly. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been growing strong over the past few years. His father had said that it was almost as bad as the last time. All the wizarding families were scared to some degree, and muggle-born wizards were known to be targets at any time.
"Co-ome on," Ron said, and the grateful boy followed him to the train.
Scene Three: October 6, 1996, The Infirmary
"Good Evening, John," Minerva said to the boy lying in the bed, "Do you feel better?"
"Better, Ma'am," Johnny said, carefully, "I'm still tired."
"We'll get you something to eat shortly." Minerva told him, "And then we'll let you rest until morning. But I need to ask if you know who I am."
"The nurse said you were, um, Professor McGonagall, I think," Johnny said.
"Nurse, indeed," Poppy snorted in the background.
"That is correct," Minerva said, "but do you know me?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Do you know where you are?"
"No"
"You don't seem very upset, under the circumstances. Your Potions Professor said that you claimed to go to a different school."
"Oh, no, Ma'am. I still go to the same school. Only, I don't know which school this one is, or how I got here. It is confusing, Ma'am."
"Yes, well," Minerva said, feeling the confusion herself, despite what appeared to be a straightforward answer. "This is Hogwarts School . . . "
Johnny snorted, then quickly apologized, "Sorry, the name struck me as funny."
Minerva stared at the boy, and reached a conclusion, "I should warn you. It gets funnier. As I was saying, This is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. According to our records, you, John Maxwell, are a wizard in training, and you are in your third year at this school."
"Cor," Johnny said, "You mean that?"
"Yes, I do," Minerva said, giving the boy a friendly smile.
"Well, you've got the wrong John then. I couldn't do any wizardry even if I knew what it was. I can't even get my maths straight."
"That is a problem then."
"My maths?"
Minerva had to laugh, "No, that you are the wrong John Maxwell. Your maths may be a problem as well, but not one 'I' have to worry about. Tell me a bit about yourself, John. For example, what were you doing yesterday?"
Albus watched as the boy withdrew into himself.
"It's hard to explain," Johnny said, "I wasn't home most of yesterday, and I nicked off of school as well."
"It must have been an interesting day," Minerva said, giving what she hoped was a comforting smile. "Where were you?"
"Um," Johnny began, "1941. In May. It was the day of the Blackbury Blitz."
Minerva vaguely heard Poppy telling someone they couldn't come in, when everyone went silent. She looked around and saw Poppy talking to Ron Weasley, or more correctly, no longer talking as both of them stared at Master Maxwell.
"I sho-ould go," Ron said, and turned to go.
"Please," Minerva called out. "Mr. Weasley, wait. You might be helpful." Turning back to Johnny he asked, "Do you remember Ronald, from anywhere? He is a close friend of our John Maxwell."
"No, Ma'am," Johnny said, "but I would remember him, what with the leg brace and all. I'm sorry I don't remember."
As Ron sat down in the chair provided, Minerva asked him, "I assume you were chosen to find out what happened to your house mate."
Ron nodded with a smile. No one ever yelled at him. Being a cripple was an advantage when you wanted to find things out. Nor was this the first time he ever played the sympathy card.
"You're well into it now, Ronald," Minerva said smiling, "Our friend here is about to explain how he spent yesterday."
Johnny stared at the three people staring at him. He knew he should be confused or frightened, but he wasn't. If he was smarter, he probably would be. Anyone who woke up from a nap in a strange school and in strange clothes, and was told he was a wizard, would be scared. But for someone like Johnny, it was a puzzle. Something happened, and there was a reason for it. If you found out the reason, you found out how to fix things proper. It was the same with Wobbler. Once they found out why he wasn't born, they knew how to change that.
"Would you think I was mental, if I told you the truth?" Johnny asked, then fell back in bed, laughing. McGonagall was telling him no, while Ron was shaking his head yes.
"It started when we found Mrs, Tachyon lying in the alley. At first we thought she had been robbed, but who would want to rob HER, and besides, Guilty was there . . . "
Johnny told them the entire incident, as well as he could. He was interrupted by dinner, but that did not stop anyone from asking him dozens of questions. By the time they had finished eating, Johnny had told them more than he thought possible. He even mentioned the Alderman, and the Captain of the mother ship.
When Johnny started to yawn, Minerva excused herself, suggesting it was late. Ron got up, refusing any help, and held out a shaking hand. "Ro-on Weasle-ey, "
"Johnny Maxwell," he said shaking the proffered hand. He lay back in the bed, happy that he had at least one friend in this world. He never heard Madam Pomfrey whisper, "Goodnight, Johnny," as she put out the lights in the infirmary.
Scene Four: May 21, 1941, Paradise Street, Blackbury
Captain Harris was already shouting orders before the last bombs hit. In minutes, the ambulance and fire trucks were on the scene. He would find out later that lightning had knocked out all of the phone lines. They never had a chance to give a warning.
"There was a total of twenty people in those houses," the Sargent reported, "We found most of the bodies. But Jerry left a live one under No. 15."
"Pull everyone out then, until the bomb squad can deal with it," the Captain ordered. He then went back to his post to begin his report. It was almost midnight. The worst day in his life had lasted less than an hour, and it had been the longest hour of his life.
Scene Five: October 7, 1996, The Infirmary
Johnny awoke in the infirmary, clear headed, wide awake, and hungry. Madam Pomfrey brought him his clothes, and left him to dress himself. He dressed quickly, then proceeded to look for the nurse. "Ma'am, did I get dressed properly. I've never worn robes before."
"You did an excellent job, Johnny," Madam Pomfrey said.
"Could I ask what this is?" Johnny said, holding up a stick, "It was with the robe."
Madam Pomfrey controlled her surprise and said, "That's your wand. All wizards have one. It's what we use to perform magic."
"How does it work?" Johnny asked.
Poppy stared at the boy, as he waved the wand about. Nothing was happening, and that was not right.