A/N: Well, here we are at the second chapter only a few days after the first! Woohoo! Many thanks to Kim (my wonderful and encouraging beta) and x-Lazart-x, who was the first person ever to review this story--you guys hold special honors with me! Thank you all for continuing to read this and (hopefully) enjoy it.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot. J.KRowling and companies associated with the production and dispersal of Harry Potter own...well, Mr. Potter and Co.
A Black Lotus
Chapter 2
Ginny screamed when she began to fall through nothing but darkness. It pressed in at her from every direction, piercing her exposed skin with insubstantial blades of cold. She continued to scream, but when she stopped to draw breath to continue, the cold filled her mouth and then her lungs. The darkness was inside her and she could feel it residing beside her terror.
Ginny continued screaming, but then it was joined by her name being yelled from somewhere above her in the impenetrable black.
"Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!" the voice shouted. The fear in it echoed oddly in Ginny's ears. "Ginny! Ginny! GINNY!"
And then Ginny saw Hermione in her mind's eye and she recognized the voice that terror had made her forget. She swallowed the dark and the fear thickly.
"HERMIONE!" she screamed.
"Ginny, where are you?" Hermione's voice called. Ginny thought she could see Hermione's pale face above her in the darkness, frightened and worried.
"I'm here," Ginny yelled back, "I'm he—"
But then the back of her head collided with something hard, and the darkness swallowed her completely, her words cut from her mouth.
When she became aware of the pain in the back of her head, Ginny groaned loudly. It felt as if someone had struck her with a blunt instrument in hopes of killing her.
The thought made her open her eyes in case someone was there with a blunt instrument, but everything was blurry. She could barely make out the dim silhouette of a person with bushy hair leaning over her from the side, staring at her.
Ginny blinked to clear her vision and saw that it was Hermione, her wand out from having just magicked her awake. She looked relieved but anxious.
"Hey," Ginny said with a forced smile.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked concernedly.
Ginny sat up slowly and felt the back of her head. It felt tender but no doubt there would be a lump there in good time.
"For now," she muttered. Hermione smiled a little at that, but the anxiety didn't leave her face entirely as she pocketed her wand.
"I think we've been transported to the sixth floor," Hermione said, gesturing at the stone corridor around them. "We passed this way earlier, remember?"
"Sure."
In truth, Ginny couldn't remember much of the time they spent leaving the library for the Gryffindor common room. Her mind had been wandering onto other things… like what she and Hermione had been discussing in the library.
"But Snape will be coming down this way anytime now, so we've got to get back to the common room right away!" Hermione continued, glancing apprehensively around them as if Snape was going to jump out yelling, "BOO!"
With Hermione's help, Ginny got to her feet and they silently made their way back up to the seventh floor. When they passed the empty classroom that the magical grandfather clock was, Ginny and Hermione both shivered. Even though it had only transported them a floor down, it had been terrifying.
Finally they caught sight of the portrait of the Fat Lady at the end of the corridor and hurried up to her. She gazed down at them imperiously.
"Alpheus," Hermione told her.
The Fat Lady raised her eyebrows. "No password, no admittance," she replied and began to examine a small stain on her gown's sleeve. Ginny gaped at her in surprise.
"You haven't changed it just 'cause you're annoyed at us for being late, have you?" she asked incredulously. The Fat Lady gave a soft "humph".
"I haven't changed the password since last month," she said.
"But I'm a prefect, and 'Alpheus' is the password!" Hermione stated, looking aghast. "You have to let us in!"
"I don't have to do anything of the sort," the Fat Lady huffed. She glared shrewdly at Hermione. "And I don't think I've seen you before. A prefect you say? What's your name?"
But before Hermione could respond, Ginny dragged her away from the portrait and a little ways down the corridor so the Fat Lady was out of earshot. When Ginny turned to face Hermione, the anxious expression was back on the older girl's face.
"What's going on?" Hermione muttered. "Why won't she let us in? I know that that's the password…"
"Who knows," Ginny said, "but this means we've either got to wait 'til someone comes—which is unlikely—or find some other place to go. We can't stand outside Gryffindor Tower all night."
Hermione nodded though she looked pale. "If we really must we could always…" she trailed off, suddenly looking uncertain, but then continued tentatively, "We could always use the Room of Requirement."
Ginny thought back to all the happy times spent in the Come-and-Go Room and the events that followed not so long afterward in the Department of Mysteries—in the Veil Room.
She nodded briefly. Hermione, gazing at her sympathetically, placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I know that it's hard to go back," she said, "but there really aren't any other options, Ginny."
"I know."
Ginny didn't mean to make Hermione twitch at the hardness in her voice, but it was impossible to say sorry and not lie. Instead she asked gently, "So do you want to wait or go now?"
"I think we better go—Snape or someone else might still be doing rounds nearby," Hermione replied. "Better to be out of sight than waiting around for them to—"
"I'm telling you, Moony, you're the only one among us that can have a decent conversation with her, so why don't you jus—"
"But Lily isn't interested in talking about him, so it would just be pointless to force her into a conversation about James."
"So?"
"Sirius, really now…"
"Oh my god," Hermione uttered so softly that Ginny could've imagined it. Yet it didn't matter; it could've been her that had said it.
"Oh," Ginny breathed, staring at the two figures approaching them unknowingly from down the corridor, and paying particular attention to the taller of the two, their eyes glittering in the torchlight.
And then those eyes found hers. It seemed like eternity resided in only that small moment, and Ginny thought that she could become immortal if only there were more.
There was a firm hand on the crook of her arm just as the two figures came to a halt several yards away. Hermione tugged at her.
"Ginny," she whispered frantically. "Ginny, we have to go…we shouldn't be seeing this!"
But Ginny ignored her and continued to stare at the young man with the glittering eyes, now full of confusion.
"Excuse me," said the shorter teenager, stepping forward from his place beside his friend. "Can I help you?"
Ginny vaguely heard Hermione inhale sharply at the sight of a young, teenaged Remus Lupin standing before them in Hogwarts robes, a prefect badge glinting on his chest. He looked as if he wasn't sure they understood him.
"Excuse me," he tried again, but Hermione turned away from him and pulled at Ginny's arm forcefully.
"We're leaving," she told Ginny, her eyes piercing. "Now."
Ginny glanced back at the still figure of Sirius Black a few steps behind Lupin.
"But—"she began, but Hermione shook her head.
"Let's go."
Hermione yanked so sharply on Ginny's arm that she bit her lip to keep from voicing the pain of it. She took a reluctant step down the corridor away from Lupin and Sirius, but looked back once more. Both boys were watching them in utter confusion. Lupin took another step forward.
"Are you two alright?" he said concernedly. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius beat her to it.
"She's wearing a prefect badge."
He was gazing at Hermione's robes with interest, but didn't make any move to get closer. Lupin's face had a strange expression on it now, almost wary.
"Who are you?" he asked, the concern now replaced with suspicion.
Hermione elbowed Ginny in the ribs and pulled at her arm again. This time, Ginny barely cast a glance at the teenage Sirius before she took off with Hermione, picking up speed when they heard Lupin and Sirius' voices calling after them.
They ran swiftly down the corridor, down flights of stairs, and continued even after the voices of the other two teenagers faded and the sound of Ginny and Hermione's footsteps was left.
"Hermione-where-are-we-going?" Ginny panted as they ran down yet another empty corridor.
"This-is-not-happening," Hermione said to herself between breaths, ignoring Ginny's question. "This-can-not-be-happening."
Ginny stopped running. Hermione, reluctantly, stopped as well. Ginny glared at her.
"Tell me where we're going!" Ginny said, disgruntled. "Why are we running? And what can't be happening?" Her glare intensified. "Do you mean seeing the younger version of two people we know, one of whom we haven't seen in ages and the other that's dead?"
Hermione stared at her, the blood draining from her face.
"Or," Ginny continued in a growl, "do you mean running around the castle like a couple of asylum escapees being chased by imaginary flying monkeys?"
Hermione didn't reply immediately, and they stood there quietly except for their heavy breathing, looking at each other, waiting.
Finally, Hermione spoke in a small voice, "We're going to Dumbledore. He can set things right."
But Ginny couldn't settle for that. She had to hear Hermione voice what Ginny herself thought was impossible—too much a fantasy that it couldn't be, even in the magic world.
"And what does that mean?" Ginny asked peevishly. "If things aren't right, then what's wrong?"
Hermione gazed at her for a brief moment and replied, "Well…isn't it obvious?" She looked strained as she spoke. "I—I think we've gone back—"
"In time?" Ginny said disbelievingly, despite the fact she wanted to believe it. Hermione nodded imperceptibly.
"Yes," she whispered.
There was nothing more that Ginny could say or ask after that, and she fell into step beside Hermione as they hurriedly set off for Dumbledore's office on the second floor.
But there was a peculiar feeling in Ginny now that didn't fade the closer they came to their destination. It was like all of her insides had mysteriously vanished to be replaced with cotton. The image of the teenage Sirius they had run away from swam in her mind…his eyes glittering as he gazed at her…
When they arrived at the gargoyle that hid the entrance to the Headmaster's Office, Peeves was floating above them, cackling and blowing raspberries. Hermione gave a tiny groan at the sight of him.
"Oooh, what's this?" Peeves crooned, smiling evilly. "Students out of bed? Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty!"
"Peeves, please," Hermione begged, "please go away!"
Peeves cackled at her malevolently. "Won't do nothing! Won't do nothing! Won't do nothing if you say please!"
"Oh shut up, Peeves," Ginny said hotly. "Just get the hell out of here."
The poltergeist scowled at her and floated down so that he bobbed at eye level with her. He looked menacing as he glared at her, features sharp and wide.
"Little Red, Little Red, keep quiet, Little Red," he sang dangerously. Ginny gazed at him indifferently despite the urge to step away from the evil look on Peeve's face. "If Little Red isn't quiet, Little Red will be de—"
Interrupting Peeve's chilling song was the grinding noise of the gargoyle moving aside to reveal a revolving staircase, at the bottom of which stood a very tall, thin old wizard with twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles. He smiled at them as he stepped onto the flagstones of the corridor.
"Hello there," Professor Dumbledore said politely. "I thought I heard Peeve's melodious voice and decided to investigate." He looked at Peeves, who was still glaring at Ginny. "That will do," Dumbledore told the poltergeist. Peeves gave a mocking bow, then a rude hand gesture, before zooming off down the corridor blowing raspberries at random.
Dumbledore returned his attention to Ginny and Hermione. "Would you two care to join me in my office?" he asked, still smiling
Ginny and Hermione nodded. They followed him up the revolving steps—the gargoyle grinding back in place behind them—and filed into Dumbledore's office. It was the same as Ginny had seen it in her first year: the portraits of the former Heads snoozed behind Dumbledore's desk; the many silver instruments and bric-a-bracs resided on their shelves and tables, whirling and making tinkling sounds; Fawkes the phoenix was perched on his golden stand, studying her and Hermione. The only difference was that the sword of Godric Gryffindor was now in a glass case behind the desk as well, and the office was slightly shrouded in shadow from a few lamps.
Dumbledore sat at his desk and gestured for Ginny and Hermione to take their seats in front of it. Once they had settled, he pushed forward a silver dish full of yellow candies.
Eyes twinkling merrily, he asked, "Lemon drop?"
Hermione smiled yet shook her head. Ginny plucked up one of the little candies and popped it in her mouth, smiling as well (and she could've sworn that Dumbledore gave her the tiniest of winks).
"Well, now," Dumbledore said pleasantly, steepling his fingers, his elbows resting on the desktop, "what can I do for you?"
Ginny and Hermione shared a brief yet meaningful glance. The question wasn't really what Dumbledore could do for them, but what he couldn't and Dumbledore could certainly do a lot.
"Professor Dumbledore, we need your help," Hermione told him, expression serious.
"Indeed? Please tell me everything then."
And so Ginny listened calmly as Hermione recounted the events of what could only have been the past hour and a half, shifting uncomfortably only when Hermione described their fall through the darkness. Dumbledore didn't look perturbed as Hermione went on about meeting Sirius and Lupin, or when Hermione tentatively explained that she was sure that she and Ginny had gone back in time.
After Hermione had finished, the only noise in the room was the gentle tinkling of the silver instruments and Fawkes shifting on his perch.
Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "And you are sure of your theory, Miss…?"
"Granger," Hermione supplied quickly before replying, "Yes, I'm sure. In our time"—she glanced at Ginny—"Sirius Black is…" But she didn't finish her sentence with the word Ginny knew they were both thinking. Instead, Hermione stared meaningfully at Dumbledore, who uttered a soft "ah" of understanding.
Gazing at them a little more piercingly, he asked, "What year are you from?"
"Nineteen-ninety-six," Ginny provided, feeling like she was dropping what Hermione called "a bomb"…
Because this would be it…Dumbledore would grill them on everything they'd seen then obliviate them and put them back in their own time—and Ginny would never get the chance to see Sirius again.
But what Ginny had expected Dumbledore to do was very different from a smile, which he gave with the twinkle behind his half-moon glasses. She felt her jaw drop in disbelief. It wasn't possible… Come off it! Ginny thought as she closed her mouth. Seriously!
"Miss Granger, and Miss…"--Dumbledore took in Ginny's appearance with a kind expression—"Weasley… have you ever known of that particularly interesting timepiece you encountered tonight, before?"
"No," Ginny and Hermione replied.
"I thought as much," Dumbledore stated.
He stood up and went to one of the silver instruments on a nearby table. It was a pretty little thing with brightly colored buttons that moved and made noises not unlike a chime. Ginny stared at it as Dumbledore came back and set it on his desk.
"In this school," Dumbledore said softly, taking his chair once more, "there are many secrets that even I, as Headmaster, do not know. This is both fair and unfair. Hogwarts contains some of the most powerful and dangerous objects known to wizards, and though we might wish to investigate, it's for the best that the school hides them so easily from us."
His gaze on Ginny and Hermione was constant as he continued.
"What you encountered was something very powerful indeed if it brought you twenty-one years into the past, but then, it wasn't mere coincidence that you came upon it, either." He picked up one of the lemon drops in the silver dish on his desk and popped it into his mouth idly. "You were meant to come here for some reason that I am not aware of, and now here you are for the time being…"
Ginny felt as if Dumbledore had given her the moon for Christmas. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Did this mean he was going to let them stay? These thoughts and more raced around in her mind, her heart suddenly feeling too large to be contained in her chest, and the inclination to scream in joy became harder and harder to suppress.
As if she could hear all of this from her seat next to Ginny, Hermione asked Dumbledore in a tone of disapproval, "Sir, you don't mean you're letting us stay, are you?"
Dumbledore looked mildly surprised. "Why, yes, Miss Granger, I am. Aren't you interested in staying?"
"Not really," Hermione said, sounding inappropriately truthful.
Ginny gaped at Hermione, the happy stirrings becoming flat like neglected soda.
"Are you serious?" Ginny said loudly. Hermione seemed to suppress a snort of derision, but her supposed amusement didn't reach her brown eyes—she looked strained and annoyed.
"Ginny," she said in a voice distorted by suppressed emotion, "we've gone back in time. You know as well as I do what that can mean! We're messing up the fabric of time by just sitting here and having lemon drops!" She began to frown deeply, and the anxiety and irritation were no longer held back as she stood up. "I'm know why you think staying would be great—believe me I'd like to stay as well for that reason—but it's too dangerous! People we know could never be born, Ginny!"
"What does any of that matter?" Ginny cried heatedly, getting to her feet as well. "You heard Dumbledore,"—Ginny jerked her head at the benign Headmaster, who watched them gravely—"this is something like fate! We didn't come here by accident like with a Time Turner—that barmy old clock was there, waiting for us!" She was not entirely sure this was true, but her anger at Hermione fueled her rant. "You stopped right outside that classroom door, Hermione, and—"
"WE CAN'T!" Hermione shrieked. Her face was pale and her eyes sparkled dangerously. "Ginny, I know you want to see Sir—"
"This has nothing to do with him," Ginny lied coolly. The regret she'd felt for upsetting Hermione had vanished as swiftly as it had materialized. "I'll ask you to leave that out of this."
"How can I?" Hermione cried. "He's the reason you want to stay!"
Ginny felt as if an invisible pillow had come down in front of her face, depriving her of the vital air she needed to yell and scream in defiance at Hermione. But that wasn't it. Hermione was right: Ginny wanted to stay and see Sirius. There was no other reason for staying in a time that she didn't belong in besides being near him; the instance she'd seen him earlier had proven that. Ginny felt faint as she stared at Hermione.
There were tears sliding down the older girl's cheeks, her hair wildly bushy from distress. Her eyes gazed back into Ginny's, almost unseeingly.
"I'm quite sorry," Dumbledore said gently. "I didn't mean to upset either of you by letting you stay."
"No," Hermione replied hoarsely, tearing her gaze away from Ginny, "no, it's alright, Professor."
Ginny slowly sat back down, very sure that it wasn't all right yet saying nothing.
"I see." Dumbledore pressed one of the blue buttons on the silver instrument he'd brought to his desk. It began to revolve around, uttering a soft music like a lullaby. Ginny instantly began to experience a mild calm. "I'm afraid, however, that I have no way of finding the Great Grandfather Clock at this time, Miss Granger. I'm sorry to say that, despite your rather sensible wish to return to your own time, I have no way of helping you."
Ginny felt a twisted sense of satisfaction as Hermione's face fell, but hurriedly looked away as Dumbledore's gaze became fixed on her. The music began to fade slowly into the quiet before petering out completely.
"I'm sorry for you as well, Miss Weasley," he uttered sadly. She must've looked confused because he then added, "For your loss."
Mutely, Ginny nodded in acceptance, wishing that Hermione had kept her mouth shut. It had been one thing to recognize and talk about it with Hermione, but there was something more tangible in the feelings of emptiness she had when Dumbledore knew about them, like he could make them become another entity within her. Oh damnit, Ginny thought moodily. Just…damn.
There was an abrupt sound of hands coming together that startled Ginny and Hermione. Dumbledore now looked at both of them with the air of moving onto something more exciting, and Ginny had to resist frowning along with Hermione.
"Well, since you will be staying in this time, I think it's time to come up with your cover story and new appearances," he said, something of his old twinkle back behind the glasses. Hermione was aghast.
"C-cover story? New a-appearances? Wha—Professor?"
But Ginny was feeling the happy stirrings in her. Tentatively, she asked, "Do we get to choose?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said, now smiling in a way that was too infectious for Ginny to resist. She smiled back.
"But Professor Dumbledore," Hermione began, but Dumbledore shook his head.
"My dear, there is nothing I can do to help you get back to your time. All I can do is help you settle into this time comfortably. Now," he appraised Hermione's appearance, "you will probably need a few shades darker and different colored eyes…"
Unable to contain herself, Ginny exclaimed enthusiastically, "Ooh, let me pick!" Dumbledore laughed while Hermione looked alarmed.
"Ginny…"
"Oh come on," Ginny snapped, annoyance flaring up once again, "you heard Dumbledore. Besides, think of this as your adventure away from Harry's adventure!"
Hermione's shoulder's slumped as she recognized defeat, but Ginny couldn't imagine feeling happier that whole evening (besides seeing Sirius), as she eagerly helped Dumbledore in choosing their, as he called it, "unyielding" disguises. Hermione, in her reluctance to accept the fact that she couldn't win this time, continued attempting to stop Ginny and Dumbledore's efforts, but gave out completely when Ginny began to snap more readily and more sharply while Dumbledore looked on passively as he worked his magic.
When he had finished changing Ginny and Hermione's appearances, Dumbledore smiled brightly. "You look almost nothing like yourselves," he said amusedly.
And Ginny supposed that he was right. Hermione looked familiar in dark, still bushy hair, freckles, and bottle-green eyes, but only because Ginny had known her for so long. Herself, on the other hand, was probably more difficult to decipher as herself. In a mirror that Dumbledore had conjured for them, Ginny could see that her Weasley trademark of vivid red hair was gone, replaced by a mane a shade of midnight. Her freckles, endearing as they'd been, were gone as well, and despite her efforts to place a tattoo on her face (Dumbledore did have reserves, it seemed), the skin was unblemished and clear.
Looking between Dumbledore and Hermione, Ginny grinned.
"It's brilliant! I wish I could look like this for parties…" Ginny said happily. Hermione sighed deeply in reply while Dumbledore chuckled.
"You very well may find yourself at parties this year, Miss Weasley," he said.
Ginny thought back to the Yule Ball in her third year just as Hermione said in a strangled voice, "Th-there aren't going to be any dances o-or balls this year, are there?"
"Oh no," Dumbledore assured her pleasantly. "There are no plans for them this year."
Ginny thought she heard Hermione mumble, "Thank god," but didn't say what she wanted to say very much; Hermione was hard to be in the company of when she was being a wet blanket all the time, but she was still her closest female friend and in respect of that Ginny asked in her best tone of wonder, "So how long do these disguises last?"
Dumbledore looked a little knowingly as he said mildly, "They should last as long as I wish them to, in all actuality." His smile widened at the look of amazement on Ginny's face. "Only someone expecting a disguise on you will be able to recognize and possibly lift the enchantments."
Hermione started at this, expression alarmed.
"Professor," she said quickly, "we know about…well, about Voldemort, and he knows about us in the future, so would he…?" Hermione trailed off, watching for Dumbledore's reaction.
His smile didn't waver. "Do not worry, Miss Granger," he said gently. "Voldemort will not be expecting your disguises or you yourselves, so he will not—if he did capture one of you—know to lift your faux appearances."
Hermione didn't look so reassured, but said nothing further on the matter.
"Now, your cover story," Dumbledore pressed on, looking thoughtful. "What do you suggest?"
Ginny found herself thinking of the Burrow and her six insane and overly protective brothers…watching them all leave for Hogwarts one by one (or by two, in the Twins' case) and the wish to join them… always waiting… And then it hit her like a firm hand to the forehead.
"Sir, how about me and Hermione are childhood friends, home schooled for most of our lives, but have now—"
"—Convinced our parents that we wish to seek education at one of the finest institutes there is to see what it's like?" finished Hermione unexpectedly. She looked vaguely interested now and Ginny smiled at her in gratitude.
Dumbledore, too, was smiling. "Good, good. Your absence from the first week of school can be explained away, of course, and your Sorting in addition. Well," he looked at them brightly, "that only leaves where to place you…"
"We're in Gryffindor," Ginny said immediately. Dumbledore nodded.
"I surmised as much when you mentioned going up to the Gryffindor dormitory earlier," he replied, his eyes twinkling kindly as Ginny sank in her chair a fraction. "What I meant was, where shall I put you for residing in the castle?"
"Can't we just be in Gryffindor Tower?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not so sure that that is a wise decision," Dumbledore said softly. "It's better if you stay in a place where conversations you might have," his gaze became a bit more piercing, "can go unnoticed."