Chapter 1
"Merlin's jockstrap- two more weeks of this utter nonsense and I'm going to go mad."
His twin brother Maxwell scoffed and shuffled his book around. "Calm down Perry, you're always so dramatic. It's not like this is any different than what we've been doing for the past six years. Starving for the Christmas break and struggling on to the summer one."
His brother lobbed an apple at his face, which he ducked skillfully.
"Ooh, I forgot- I'm here to learn, too. 'My bad', as Courtney says." Perry yawned and bit into the apple he'd just summoned back. Courtney was their Squib older sister, who was going to a muggle college in North America. Because of her, they knew more about muggles than nearly anyone at Hogwarts, and anyone who met any one of the Sprocket siblings gained a newfound appreciation for them.
"Anyways, I've no reason to be calm. I'm going to have to re-do my N.E.W.T.'s if I don't start studying. Can you even do that? I wonder if they would let me, since the headmaster hates me so much." He sprung off the bed and began to pace rather slowly, tossing the apple up and down absentmindedly. "Nightengale is always on my case about this and that. She lives for the chance to catch me misbehaving. How can anyone be so callous towards a student and not get fined or something. I mean, she should at least get a slap on the wrist for the time she hit me over the head with a spatula."
Maxwell grinned from over his History of Magic paper. "Ha, you know very well that the only reason she 'hit' you is because you turned all the food in the kitchens bright blue. That was the day when the ambassador from South America came." He shoved Perry onto the couch across from him with his foot, sending up a cloud of dust. "The only reason you're in Ravenclaw is because you're so inventive with spells. And the only reason you're still here in the school is because you wrote that ridiculous time travel spell. That no one even uses, by the way."
Perry raised an eyebrow. "Hey, they do use it, but people like the Ministry Aurors and so on have to be selected. It is a dangerous spell if you use it unwisely. Remember that time I almost had my arm bitten off?"
"The pinnacle of your career."
Outside, the rain pounded against the windows, adding a soothing ambiance to the silent dormitory. Occasionally the few people left in the room were lit up by a flash of lightning, and the thunder was so loud that the Grey Lady floated through the wall, mumbling about better sound-proofing spells. The drapery on the bed Max was now sitting on was swathed in cobwebs, and looked like it was going to fall apart. The actual bed, however, was a soft blue, including the sheets and bedspread. It was the bed everyone used for sitting on, because a misfired spell had turned the inside of the mattress into bread pudding. The pudding had been turned back to mattress stuffing, but the bed still retained the quality of the squishy dessert.
The walls around them were lined with posters of musical groups, famous witches, and the occasional quidditch team, all moving animatedly. In one poster a wizard band played so enthusiastically that the lead singer fell off the stage. Above every bed was a tapestry with a solemn eagle, bordered by Latin, which read the Ravenclaw motto, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." It was this that Peregrine Sprocket was currently studying.
"I wonder what Rowena Ravenclaw was like. They say she was gorgeous."
Max looked at him. "Perry, I don't think she would even give you a first glance, much less a second one." Perry sighed, getting up from the bed that he had just sat down on again. In the process, the apple he'd been steadily munching on rolled off and onto the floor. "Oh, bother. Why do you always have to ruin everything?" He stooped to pick it up, and muttered "Scourgify."
"I am not ruining anything. Professor Nightingale is the one that ruins everything for you. I'm only here to keep you in line you know! I could be going to Durmstrang. I hear they have Spell Writing as a course!"
Perry took a bit of the apple, which he had apparently deemed clean enough to eat.
"Oh, bugger Durmstrang! All you talk about is Durmstrang since that cousin or whatever came to visit. She was here for 45 minutes! You know you wouldn't like it there- it's all rules." He ran to the doorway, overly exaggerating his strides and tripping a bit. "Come on Max, let's go down to Supper."
"Dinner."
"Who cares?"
"Pompous nobody's." Max said, walking over to the door. "It's bound to be good tonight- I hear it's Professor Clavental's birthday."
Three hours later they trooped back into the Ravenclaw common room with mashed sweet potatoes in their hair.
"Okay, whose bright idea was it to start a food fight?" Max shouted, followed by a crowd of messy Ravenclaws. Most of the Gryffindors and Slytherin's were still going at it. "Oh, let me guess? Idiot Savant over here?" He shoved Perry against the wall.
Perry looked a little hurt and brushed himself off. "Actually it wasn't me for once- though thanks for the ringing endorsement. My policy is one food fight per two months. Ravenclaws have to keep up the appearance, you know!" A few boys collapsed in laughter at the back of the room, drawing Max's gaze.
"Oh god, Perry, you should've seen your face when that butter hit you. Priceless!"
"It's not going to be priceless next time when you get butter shoved down your pants, Finnigan."
Gerry Finnigan grinned. "I'd like to see you try, Sprocket."
They joked around for a little while longer, play fighting and trading insults. A little while after seven o'clock Professor Nightengale could be heard, answering the suit of armor that guarded the entrance to Ravenclaw tower with a bark about women not having to walk down any roads at all. As she walked in, drawing gazes, she gestured at Max, narrowing her eyes at the poker game happening in the corner.
Max put down his book and went to answer her, grumbling. Everyone else was playing poker and Perry was winning - a few girls were sitting by the fire doing their homework.
"Why the sorting hat put him in Ravenclaw I'll never know. Where is your brother?"
Max stared, and quickly lied, "He had to go to the lavatory. Wait here, and I'll go find him." He turned on his heel and took a roundabout way to where Perry was sitting behind a crowd of boys discussing muggle flying machines, all playing poker. "Get up you stupid git, Nightengale's here and she looks like she's finally going to expel you."
He threw down his cards. "What? Why! I didn't start that food fight, Gerry did!"
"I don't think she cares."
"Hello, Professor, what brings you to our common room so late?"
"Come with me to my office, Mr. Sprocket."
Perry pursed his lips, threw a fleeting glance at Max, who's raised eyebrow and smug smile did nothing to comfort him, and followed her out of the tower.
"The Minister is here to speak with you. Do you have any idea why that would be?" She did not turn to look at him, but kept up a brisk pace down the stairs. "I have heard many rumors about you Mr. Sprocket , and I really don't care for them much. But you are one of the brightest students of this school's current age, second only to Hermione Weasley and your brother. Why you choose to lower yourself so often is beyond me."
Perry stared, open-mouthed, and tripped over his feet. "Ah, thanks Professor. Um, I don't know why the minister would be here for me. Oh, and sorry about the poker game."
Nightengale spat the password to the her office (topiary) like a curse word and let him go first, saying, "Keep your manners in check, please, Mr. Sprocket."
Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting in the headmasters wing-backed armchair next to the fireplace, looking much more at home in it that Nightengale ever did. He was a middle-aged black man, powerfully built and smartly dressed at all times. Rumors were that he had been in the famed Order of The Phoenix at the time of the Last Day war.
"Hello Peregrine, nice to see you again. How are your studies?" He smiled and shook Perry's hand.
"Fine." Perigrine sat down next to him, and the headmaster took the chair behind her desk, shuffling papers absentmindedly. "Uh, Minister, is she privy to this? All of it?" Nightengale looked suddenly annoyed.
Shacklebolt looked unperturbed, "No, not entirely, but it is important that we tell her all that is happening, as it a matter of importance to Hogwarts as well." He helped himself to some tea, taking a little sip. "Mr. Sprocket why don't you start?"
"Start? Uh, oh! Yes well, there isn't really much to tell. The Daily Prophet leaked nearly all of it anyways after they cornered my old granny for an interview.
When I was nine I started working on a spell for time travel. I had bet Max that I could do it for 10 galleons, and seeing as I didn't have ten galleons and I would hate to be in debt to him (really hate), I worked hard for about three years and the spell gradually finished itself. At first I just wanted to get Max off my back but as I was working on it I began to see that such a spell was in fact possible. I didn't actually think it would work until I tried it out and was nearly maimed by some sort of Dinosaur. See, Professor? I can apply myself plenty." Nightengale raised an eyebrow, and Perry, correctly interpreting the look she gave him, hurriedly continued. "Since then the ministry has made me give half of the spell to them so no one can use it unless they have clearance from the ministry. Two years ago I started working on weaving another spell into it so that you would be able to take objects, food, cattle, even people back with you. Save magical texts, endangered species, and so on. And that's all that's happened so far."
"And now we've just found out through some of our listening spells around London that some of the more active supporters of the second war are planning some sort of coup. Even worse, they have joined with an eccentric Grindewald historian named Roderick Lemonwick who has convinced them all that Grindewald was more powerful than Voldemort ever was. So now they're Grindewaldian fanatics." Finished Shacklebolt.
Perry scoffed, a little taken aback. "Grindewaldian fanatics? I thought all the supporters were pretty much finished after the Second War. What can they possibly do except reenact the pas- Oh! Oh not possible. They can't be serious. Don't they know what that would do to history?"
Nightengale stepped in, "You mean that they intend to use Mr. Sprocket's spell to travel back in time and, and take him back with them?"
Shacklebolt sighed. "Something along those lines. Gorland was tailing a member for a while and overheard he and his wife talking about it. We had hired the historian for a short time to help up complete some of the damaged records and we suspect he might have been close with Mr. Sprocket's grandfather before he passed away."
Perry reeled. "Whoa hold on, you mean to say that my grandfather let slip to this fellow that I was working on the second part of the spell? Why would he do that?"
"Your Grandfather was a well liked man, Perry. He had many friends, and this fellow Lemonwick was apparently his best mate at Hogwarts. There's pictures of the two of them in your Grandfather's house. Tom and Roderick must have gone out to the pub one night and talked of old times, and their grandchildren and so on. Chances are, in their conversations, you grandfather talked about you and your brother."
"Ah… That is quite likely, actually. Our grandfather liked us more than our father! He always said that we were going to make him famous by association." Perry sighed.
"And you did." Abruptly, as if prodded, the Minister stood up, "Well, Sprocket, just lie low, as the Muggles say, and don't draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. I have just glanced at the time and realized I am late for a Ministry function- it is the 17th anniversary of the Last Day tomorrow and we are meeting with Mr. Weasley to purchase the fireworks."
"Oh, too right!" Exclaimed Nightengale, looking worried. " I still have to make up a special menu for the house elves. Mr. Sprocket, the Minister has advised me on all proper precautions and spells that should be put in place, and tomorrow morning you will meet with me to discuss your differences in safety procedures."
Perry nodded, stood up to shake the Ministers hand, exchanged some pleasantries about his home life, and left the Headmistresses office, feeling a bit bewildered. The speed at which the Minister and Professor Nightengale left suggested they both were going to the same place, or at least had wanted to talk alone. But why make excuses? They could have easily asked him to leave. Puzzled, Perry opened the door to their common room a few minutes later to find Max waiting for him.
"What was all that about then? Thursday?"
"No, the spell. Look I'll tell you tomorrow."
Max let him go, as he knew very well that Perry did most of his thinking late at night, which was why he always looked like a raccoon when he had something on his mind.