Moonstruck Madness Year One: Prologue
"All pioneers are considered to be afflicted with moonstruck madness." (Gilbert Blythe, Anne of Avonlea)
Gilbert meandered slowly down the avenue, rather distracted by the curious shiny object he was fiddling with.
He had found it entangled with some of his father's old fishing poles while he had been digging through his shed. It looked rather like an old pocket watch, but instead of a face with hands, there was an odd hourglass in the center filled with shimmering liquid. Dangling from the metal frame were misshaped odds and ends.
Strolling down the path, a long-forgotten fishing pole lodged under his arm, Gilbert's face twisted comically into a look of deep concentration. He was so intent on his new toy that he almost didn't see a red-haired girl turning the corner ahead of him.
His fingers hovering over an interesting looking knob, Gilbert halted as an oblivious Anne Shirley passed him with a dreamy expression.
"Hello, Anne," he greeted guardedly.
She froze, suddenly realizing that she wasn't alone. Upon seeing Gilbert, stiffened considerably and haughtily turned away. With her head held high, she continued as if she hadn't seen anyone.
Gilbert sighed. It had been worth the try.
At this point, several things happened at once. And as Gilbert would later kick himself for the simple misshap that would cause the complete chaos to come. As he too began walking again, he tripped over a tree stump over the side of the road. Instinctively reaching out to steady himself, he grabbed Anne's shoulder, while his other hand slipped, flipping the knob of the watch.
Immediately, leaving no time to think, the watch turned in on itself with a frightening sucking sound. Drawing Gilbert and Anne in, the last thing they could recall was the odd sensation of being squeezed through a tube…
Albus Dumbledore was extrodinary at prediction. So much so that he'd often even surprise himself. Even as much as he declined any sort of inner eye, his hunches were usually close to on the dot. However, what greeted him as he opened his office door that afternoon he could truthfully say he never saw coming.
It had started out as a relatively normal day - a good day, he might have said. He'd had his usual breakfast with the Hogwarts staff, and he'd even found the pair of fuzzy purple socks Pomona had given him, that he'd misplaced Christmas last year. Afterwards, he'd settled in for a peaceful morning reading the book Filius had given him - in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the creation of the time turner.
Interesting gadgets, they were. Although the inventors were British, the time turners were, in fact, developed in Canada. Fearful of the turner being discovered and misused in its early stages, the couple hid on Prince Edward Island, Canada, disguising themselves as Muggles. After working tirelessly for nearly thirty years, the couple finally perfected a final model and rejoined the British Wizarding community shortly after obtaining the necessary permits and patents.
Strangely enough, although their family was listed by the school board for eleven years, they had no children. Even stranger still, none of the earliest models of the time turner were ever found. Such discrepancies led to suspicion, and accusations of illegal time travelling or tampering. However, a lack of evidence prevented the couple from being formally tried.
On the opposite page, a photograph of the smiling Blythe couple was yellowing with age.
With such curiosities still swimming in his mind, Albus Dumbledore was more than surprised at the timeliness of the next series of events unfolded in his office. Just he swung the door open, a loud crack followed by a thump was heard, and two children hurtled into his office. A boy, almost a carbon copy of John Blythe, looked dazed, and stared uncomprehendingly at the room surrounding him. The redheaded girl that followed him, however, was quicker to revive.
She spluttered, "Gilbert Blythe, what in the world did you do?"
Albus Dumbledore sighed, feeling a headache coming on. He should have known that the start of this day had been too peaceful to last. He reached deep into the pockets of his robe, searching for the comforting yellow sweet. He popped one in his mouth before offering to the children; "Lemon drop, my dears?"
A/N:
We know. It's completely nuts.
Comments please? We're both amateurs here, so any suggestions would be helpful. :)