I got up the next morning and I still hadn't responded to Harry and Sirius' letter, I didn't know how to. I was in no hurry to open the shop and given the foulness of the weather outside, I doubted that anyone would be out and about. So, I dawdled through my morning routine and after finishing breakfast, I did what I did every morning and sent off a Messenger to Ron.
And that's where things changed.
A bare two or three minutes after the Messenger's flames flickered away, there was a crash and a banging at the shop door to the Lane. When I stumbled down the stairs, I was greeted by a sight that brought tears to my eyes. I flicked the ward-key at the door and the locked clicked.
The door flew open and a body barrelled in, shivering and wet.
"Bloody hell, Harry, it's cold out there!" I could hear the teeth of eighteen year old Ronald Bilius Weasley chattering.
For all of ten seconds, I gaped at Ron.
Ron.
Ron was here.
Ron was here. I wasn't alone, anymore.
Ron.
Then it hit me. He was turning blue, he was so cold.
"Oh geez, Ron. Let's get you upstairs and into a hot shower." I grabbed a cloak off the rack and draped it around his shaking shoulders, turning him in the direction of the office and the stairs to the flats.
"Wha..?" He was slurring his words, oh crap, that wasn't good. In the flat and into the bathroom, I didn't bother stripping him, just pushed him into the shower and turned the water on, grateful that I'd gone for the biggest muggle hot water system there was. As the steam rose, I left him to it with a quiet word.
"You get warm and clean, I'll see to some clothes and put a sign on the door."
A dash downstairs and out the muggle door and into the barber's to let the barber, Grady, know that I had a family drama, Ron got lost in the foul weather and was in a rough shape, so I was keeping the shop shut for the day to care for him. Back into the shop and a hastily scribbled sign went up, just saying a family emergency. Then it was back upstairs and into my bedroom and scrabbling around to try and find something that would fit Ron, then I remembered that when Father had been down the weekend before and helped me to replace the insulation in the roof, he'd left a change of clothes behind. I'd cleaned the clothes them and planned to return them when I went up for Christmas dinner, but they'd fit Ron, so Father would just have to wait a bit longer. Into the laundry for said clothes and I was back to the bathroom.
"Hey? Alright in there?" I called.
"I'm warm…" Came the blissful answer.
"Know how that feels, mate, here's some clothes and are you hungry?" Of course he was hungry, he was Ron. I opened the door a crack and tossed the clothes through.
"Food? There's food?" He asked quickly.
"Bacon and eggs?"
"Oh, please?" He sounded like he was going to cry.
"I'm on it. When you come out of the bathroom, turn right, kitchen's right there." I hurried off to throw a half dozen slices of bacon under the grill, scramble up the same number of eggs and toast off half a loaf of bread. That should hold him for a few hours… if I was lucky.
The bacon was done, toast was in and the eggs were ready to go on, when Ron appeared, holding up the trousers I'd left him.
"Oops, they're a bit big. Want me to shrink them?" Did he have a wand? I couldn't remember if he'd grabbed wands in Malfoy manor, too, or if it had been just me.
"Yeah, thanks mate." He grinned. "So… what happened?"
"Uh… that's going to take a bit of explaining, give me a minute to get this done." I poured the eggs into the frypan with one hand and pointed my wand at him with the other. "Diminuendo." I whispered and flicked my wand away as soon as he let go of the trousers.
"Thanks. Can't eat one handed. Explain?"
"Grab the toast and butter up a couple of slices? For the eggs?" He nodded and got to work. "Right… So… Explanation... Aw, shit." I grimaced and began to stir the eggs.
"That bad?" He asked, his hands busy.
"Worse" I answered. "Far worse."
"Ugh…" He screwed up his face.
"Yeah. As you know this is Ottery St Catchpole. But I've been here for nearly nine months." I started.
"Nine! Shit, mate. You time travelled?!" His eyes were wide.
"Yes and no. It's far worse than just time travel, Ron. Hogwarts explained to me, when we left Malfoy manor, Por- Hermione was hurt, right?" It was odd to call her Hermione, now, when I'd been calling her Portia for the last nine months.
"Yeah."
"So was the goblin. And Bellatrix, the bitch, threw a knife at us?"
"Yeah, I remember, good thing she missed."
"She didn't. According to Hogwarts, she got Dobby."
"How bad?"
"Don't know. See that's the problem. Having injured elf apparating an injured goblin and witch, plus you and me, through Malfoy's anti-apparition wards? To get all of us out Dobby had to tap into our magic, yours and mine, more mine than yours, but-"
"Why more you than me?" He frowned.
"Uh, that's coming, I promise and it's not an issue any more." I spooned the eggs onto a slice of toast. "Eat and I'll talk." He nodded and sat, picking up a knife and fork. "Right, Dobby had to tap into our magic to get us out of there, but he was hurt and so were… Hermione and the goblin? Hogwarts said that breaking through the wards with an injured elf, goblin and witch caused a problem. A big problem."
"How big?" Ron paused in his eating.
"Massive. I'm going on what Hogwarts told, here."
"Who'd you speak to? McGonagall or Flitwick?"
"Oh, no, Hogwarts herself."
"Wha?"
"Hogwart's was a living person." Hmm, Ron was very anti-Slytherin, but knowing this might help, so… "She was engaged to Gryffindor's son, but a week before their wedding she was kidnapped and tortured by muggles and some muggleborns, it's why Slytherin was so against muggleborns."
"I don't…?" He shook his head in confusion.
"She was Slytherin's adopted daughter."
"Oh…" He blinked.
"Yeah. Anyway, when it became clear she was going to die from her injuries, the founders worked out a way to make her the heart and soul of the school."
"Oh, wow…"
"Pretty much my reaction, too. So she's a magical building. It was her that I talked to, she's the one that told me not to go to Dumbledore or the Aurors and why. See, she and the other magical buildings think we've jumped time-streams and the Ministry building says that the other people that jumped time-streams, they went into the Department of Mysteries and never came out alive."
"What?! But… Hermione?"
"She's safe, she's not here yet."
"But…"
"Let me finish and then we'll hash it out, okay? Okay. So, Hogwarts says 'no' to letting the authorities know how we got here, then it was a case of how to get us back only to find out that our time-stream is… it's gone. Shattered. Like it never existed."
"But Hermione?"
"Ron, it took no time at all for me to get here, from my point of view, but… not only did I jump time-streams but I went back in time, not nine months, but years. It's 1984, I arrived on the 20th of March 1984, the day before the spring solstice. You've arrived today, the 20th of December 1984, the day before the winter solstice. I don't think that that the solstices have much to do with timing, but I won't rule it out. Hogwarts thinks it's only a byproduct, more to do with my accidental magic outbursts, but that the timing is more Aunt Petunia's fault than mine. But no time passed for me when I appeared, and it's the same for you, none at all. When Hermione arrives, it will be the same for her, it'll be like she apparated from Malfoy manor and appeared, wherever she landed."
"So, we're what? Stuck here?"
"Yep." I sighed.
"What about You-Know-Who?"
"Dealt with. That was the first thing Hogwarts and I did. Got rid of his Horcruxes, I mean. And that was why Dobby was able to draw more power from me than you. Old snake-face screwed up when he killed Mum and Dad and accidentally made another Horcruxe, he made me into one. Whoa! Hold up!" Ron had leapt to his feet and pulled a wand from his pocket. "Hogwarts said that the bit of his soul that was in my scar wasn't strong enough to survive the jump between time-streams and was unable to stay attached. So, it's gone, I don't even have a scar anymore, see?" I pushed my hair up to show my scar-free forehead.
"Whoa, mate…"
"Yeah, but destroying snake-face's Horcruxes here? That meant I had to deal with this time-stream's version of me, I had to cut open my four year old counterpart's head and drip basilisk venom directly onto the Horcruxe's capsule."
"Ew, gross."
"Yeah, very. But it meant little-Harry was Horcruxe free." I sighed. "Then it was what about me? Us? You, me, Por- Hermione?" I sighed, again and got up to make a pot of tea. "Hogwarts offered to help, she couldn't do it for me, that's not how the Room of Requirement works, you know that. But she could help. She told me that my Dad, James, had a brother and suggested that if I didn't want to loose my family, I could just change how I was connected to them, that I could get Webster to adopt me and if we did it inside the Room, she could provide a permanent adoption potion that would be completely untraceable, not even by the goblins. Oh, the other thing she told me was that if I asked the Room for something and after it was provided, if I altered it, it wasn't the same item anymore and that meant I could remove it from the Room."
"That would have been real handy, we could have dealt with the Horcruxes before we even left school." Ron muttered.
"True. But… we would still have had to deal with old snake-face himself. I didn't have to here, with his wraith only being a little over 1.5% of his total soul, it wasn't strong enough to anchor itself without one of the other Horcruxes, not unless he had a body to put it in. And he didn't, not then."
"Okay, that makes sense. So you got a new family?"
"Not really. Webster and Rachel were happy to help after Hogwarts and I explained it all, but they never wanted children, so while they helped in the set up, they don't plan on being much a part of my life, from here on out." I answered.
"So what about me and Mione?" Ron frowned. "If we've jumped time-streams, I can't just go and knock on the Burrow door and say 'hi Mum, what's for dinner?', now can I?" He asked, sarcastically.
"No you can't. And that's where things get even more complicated."
"More? He whined.
"More. Rachel and Webster adopted me and they're prepared to do the same for you. Not Mione and I'll explain why in a bit. But yes, for you. Because… Rachel? She's… she was… is… you Mum's older sister."
"What?!" Ron's eye popped wide open.
"Yeah, she's a squib and your grandparents told everyone she ran away, your Mum never knew what happened, just that she was gone, but their dumped her in the muggle world and didn't tell anyone. Your Mum and Rachel get on alright, now, but Rachel's a squib and she's not comfortable in the Wizarding world, so they mostly just write to each other, via me."
"So, they'll adopt me, too?"
"Yep, you get to keep your family, just… instead of them being your parents and brothers, they're your Aunt and Uncle and cousins." I smirked at him. "Little-Ron's a cutie and just as quidditch mad as you are." I laughed when Ron went bright red. "But… Ginny? Little-Ginny? She's a bitch. Nasty little shit, she is."
"Yeah, I remember, it wasn't until she was about six or seven… one of the Weasley cousins, not the one we polyjuiced you into, but his brother, I think… Anyway, Ginny was being her usual shitty self and hitting Darren, well he waited until Uncle Tristan was watching and he hit her back. Mum chucked a wobbly, but Uncle Tristan saw the whole thing and made sure that Ginny got what she deserved, after that she wasn't so bad." Ron explained.
"Cool, at least she gets better, she's not welcome in the shop until she does, Molly wasn't too happy but Arthur backed me up, so I'd say he knows, but Molly's in charge of the kids." I replied. "So, Rachel and Webster will adopt you, then Hogwarts will test you for OWLs and NEWT's and get them listed, she puts them as being assessed by someone from the ICW, someone that died not long ago, so they can't be challenged."
"Right, but what about Gringotts and the Ministry?"
"Gringotts can't detect Hogwarts' adoption potion, Rachel and Webster will read as our natural parents and the Ministry building will place everything we need in the relevant places. Home-schooling underage exemptions, notice of OWLs and there'll be an appointment for apparition testing, one that looks like it was made a while ago, probably by mail."
"Home-schooled? Me?" The look on Ron's face was hilarious.
"Yep and Hogwarts will give you a generic pensieve-type memory, not anyone's but a combination of many peoples, that will give you a muggleborn's understanding of the muggle world."
"Really?" He wasn't too pleased about that.
"Just think how please Por- Mione will be that you actually know how to use a telephone properly." I grinned.
"She would be, wouldn't she?" He perked up at the thought, then frowned. "What about Mione, she's not going to be adopted by them, too is she?"
"No, no way. At this point Hogwarts is… there's two options for parents for her. One? Her Father's brother died a few years ago, 1980, I think Hogwarts said, Hogwarts can provide an adoption potion with him as her Father, a Mother is undecided. Two? Go with a completely unrelated couple, that just have the same surname. We're not making any decisions until she gets here. And speaking of that, hang on while I send her a Messenger." I flicked my wrist and let my wand drop into my hand. "Nuntio Expecto." I waited for the flames to settle and added my message. "Message for Portia, immediately upon arrival. Message…. Hey, Research? The Snitch's Nest, Niffler Lane, Ottery St Catchpole. Hurry up, now."
"What the…?" Ron gaped. "What was that?"
"That was a Messenger. It took Hogwarts and I fourteen hours to work it out. Our big problem was how to send it and have it go to you and not to Little-Ron, but we got it."
"Whoa mate… That's wicked."
"I know, right?" I grinned, it was so good to have him here.
"So… now what?"
"Now, you take the adoption potion, while I ring Mother and Father. Then we go downstairs and find you a new wand and some clothes. Then-" I cut myself off and smacked myself in the face. "Shit!"
"What!" Ron looked ready for battle again.
"Little-Harry. Sirius is free and has custody of little-Harry, we've been writing back and forth for a while and now? Little-Harry wants me to come for Yule, tomorrow and Sirius told me to bring you, too."
"So?" Ron settled back and sipped at his tea.
"So, we have to get everything done today. Maybe not the Ministry, but the adoption, the memories, testing you for NEWTs, the parents, wands, clothes, all that sort of thing."
"Ugh…" He grimaced.
"Better off if we get it over with. So come on, let's get you a new wand."
"And how we gonna do that?"
"Oh, didn't explain that, did I? Oops, sorry. Well I emptied the Room, I got Hogwarts to pack everything in trunks, then shrunk them and changed theircolour, which got around the 'summoned but altered' condition. I took everything, even the lost wands and there were hundreds of them, as many as in Ollivander's shop. Bill and Charlie now have wands that like them, no more struggling with incompatible wands. All the money went into vaults, I divided it up between the three of us and the shop. And all the goblin made stuff went back in exchange for a finder's fee, again divided up. But the actual items? I kept them all for the shop, only the money was divided, but I am putting money aside for you two out of the profits and Gringotts are simply waiting for you to open a vault so then I can transfer your share straight into it." I lead him back downstairs as I talked. "I'm going to stay with the shop, but if you want to, you can go into the Aurors, your identity will be completely secure, you can do anything you like." I looked at him. "No more hiding behind brothers. Not even me. I'm staying here and you can do anything you want, anything at all."
Ron didn't say anything, but he did have a thoughtful look on his face, I knew that he felt overshadowed by his brothers, but once the adoption was done, I would be his only brother and I had no desire to overshadow anyone. But this was Ron, so who knew what he'd do?
I lead him into the Snitch side of the shop and over to the wands. "If you've got wands on you put them on the table there." I pointed to a velvet covered tray and watched as he pulled out five wands and laid them where I'd pointed. "Then step into the middle of the space, close your eyes and hold out your wand hand, imaging you're holding the perfect wand for you… Now, keeping your eyes closed, cast a lumos." I waited for a few seconds before the lights began. Three of them, two bright and a duller one. "Open your eyes, Ron." He needed to see this. "See, mate, you're strong. Strong enough to call two wands." The third wand had already faded, but the stronger two were still lit. "Call them, Ron, call your wands to you."
"Accio my wands." His voice was quiet, but calm and sure. And both wands slid from their shelves and into his waiting hands.
"There you go, let's get you a pair of holsters. Can't be keeping your wands in your pockets." I grinned. "I did actually see a muggleborn wizard sneeze and blow the bum out of his jeans, once. Scared the crap out him and his wand was never the same. Poor bloke."
Ron didn't answer, he just stared at the wands in his wands, one Bocote and the other black walnut, an awed look on his face. I shrugged and moved about the shop, gathering up stuff, an expanded satchel here, a pair of boots there, a belt, some shirts, some trousers, a jumper, a jacket, a robe, some jogging shoes, a pair of jeans, a sweater. I waved my wand and made a pile on the counter. I had unopened packs of underwear and socks upstairs, he could have some of them.
"There we go. That will do for the moment." I looked at Ron, he still looked shell-shocked. "Come on, let's get you another cup of tea, before we head for Hogwarts. Remind me to take Cookie with us, so I can send him to Sirius… You will come tomorrow, won't you?"
Finally Ron looked up and spoke. "I got your back, brother." And gave me a soft smile, the one usually reserved for Bill or Charlie, when they weren't looking.
I swallowed and bit my lip. "Thanks."
While the kettle boiled, I wrote an acceptance to Sirius and rang Mother and Father. That was a truly awkward conversation, but it was a necessary one. Ron and I would both be heading to Mother's house for Christmas lunch, but we all decided that we'd have the rest of the day to ourselves.
While I chatted and bustled about, sorting out Ron's clothes, making a thermos of tea, packing some stew and some sandwiches to take with us, Ron sat and thought. Now, while no one can deny that Ron's not the greatest student, he does have a very capable mind, he might not use it for much outside chess and quidditch, but it is there. And right then, it was in full use, I could almost see the cogs ticking over. So I left him to it, knowing that when he'd worked it all out, he'd talk to me about it.
I placed a bowl of stew and a plate of bread in front of him and watched as he mechanically ate, his mind working on other things. A mug of tea and a biscuit was all I needed, breakfast wasn't all that long ago.
Then, about an hour after he'd called me 'brother', he looked up.
"Right. So, who taught us?"
"Gideon and Fabian. Then private tutors, with ICW approved OWLs and NEWTs we don't have to list our tutors." I answered.
"How do I get OWLs and NEWTs?"
"Hogwarts will test you and submit results based on that. Your tests will be labelled as being assessed by an independent ICW examiner, one that died shortly after your testing is documented as having been done. For your OWLs it might be months or even a year or more, for the NEWTs, probably only a few days after."
"Real people?"
"Real people and Hogwarts will get the results labelled properly, have the appointments registered wherever they should have been. They'll be forwarded to us by owl mail from the ICW and be completely legal and even under Moody's eye."
"Cool. Apparition, too?"
"No, that one you'll do in person, I have primed the department there, though. While I was filling out the paperwork for my licence, I commented something about Mother not letting you get your licence until you had your NEWTs."
"Right. Gringotts?"
"Yep. But not until after the adoption, Hogwarts and Father. Hogwarts will give you an appropriate test so we can work out how old you're going to be, we might need Father to mock up something for the muggles, to say that I have temporary custody until you're eighteen. She changed my date of birth and name, can't have two Harry Potter's with the same birthday running around, now can we?"
"What name did you choose, then?"
"Hadrien Blaire Potter. Born the 14th of January 1966. We chose a name for you, so that Hogwarts and the Ministry building could put some support papers in place early, just in case Moody or the Aurors went looking. We chose Ronson Maitland Potter for you. What do you think?"
Ron tilted his head and silently repeated the name over and over.
"Yeah, I can be Ronson Potter."
"Actually, Muriel gave me permission to form a Cadet-House to House Prewett, but we needed to add Prewett to our names, so now, we're both Potter-Prewett. Potter first, but only because Sirius as Potter Regent gave his permission first."
"So… Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett?"
"Yeah."
He screwed up his mouth in amusement and huffed. "I can live with that."
"Gods, I hope so, cause it'd be a nightmare to change now." We both laughed.
And his questions continued. "Why'd we move here? Why'd we not stay near the parents?"
"Few reasons. One? They're not family orientated, both are lawyers, Mother's a criminal Prosecutor and Father's in Family Law and work a lot of long hours. Two? They're squibs, we're not. That created a bit of a divide, particularly as we like magic. Three? There's a muggle street gang turf war happening in Leeds and people our ages are being targeted, so the parents both wanted us out of the area. Me first, being older, I finished my exams and sat my NEWTs first, you later as Mother wouldn't let you go without your NEWTs, we'll try and get that for some time in the last few weeks and you, not being able to wait any longer, ran off without permission."
"But…"
"Wait." I Held up a hand. "It has to be that way or you wouldn't have turned up here, right now. This storm? It's all over the south of England, blew in yesterday and likely won't blow out before the new year. There's no way anyone would happily travel in weather this bad."
He hummed for a few seconds.
"What about Mione, you said that Ra- Mother and Father… gods, that feels weird. Anyway you said they wouldn't adopt her, why not?"
"Ron do you really want Portia as a sister?"
"Portia?"
"Remember after I came to Grimmauld Place after the dementors in Surrey? She'd brought this book of some of Shakespeare's plays? She used to moan about 'why couldn't her parents have named her Portia?' Went on and on about it, said if she ever figured out how to become an Animagus, she was going to call her Animagus form Portia."
"Oh, yeah, I remember. She went on for days, until our letters arrived. Then it was all school, again. I don't know which was worse?"
"Exactly, so we, Hogwarts, Mother, Father and I, tentatively chose Portia Alexis as her new name, but nothing's set yet. She doesn't have famous connections, like we do, so we don't have to get everything done in advance." I answered. "But do you really want her as a sister? I thought… after the locket… that you… you know… you fancied her?"
"Yeah, I do… So no, not a sister. Good." He nodded firmly.
"Glad I got that right." I sighed in relief.
"Right. So, when do I take the potion?"
"I was going to say now, but… I think it's better if we go to Hogwarts and do everything there. I mean, Mother and Father know and can back us up if needed, but Hogwarts is the important bit. We can get pretty much everything else done there. Adoption, date of birth, OWLs, NEWTs, memories, she can contact the Ministry building and get appointments sorted. File the notice of your NEWTs. Then we can come home and relax and get your story sorted before we go to Sirius' tomorrow."
"Is the weather as bad, where he is, as it is here?" Ron asked.
"Nah, he's up near Glasgow, these days. His Mother's still alive and living in Grimmauld Place, so he used the back pay and compensation money from the Ministry to buy a place, where he and little-Harry can live. Remus is with them, he uses an expanded trunk during the full moon and Sirius just pulls out the ladder, so he can't climb out."
"So, what's the weather like up there?"
"Today? Cold, clear and bright, I've some sunglasses and you're going to have to choose a pair. It snowed up there, so it's bright enough to give you a headache." I warned.
"Great. What'd you say the date was?"
"20th of December '84."
"Right, so a white Christmas?"
"Except Sirius is a pagan, so a white Yule. But yeah."
"What about gifts?"
"Ah… I have no idea. What do I give them?" I hadn't even given gifts a thought.
"Well, there's certain things that are always given. A candle, some seeds or something from your garden, something to wear, usually a cloak or a robe and something for the house or their room."
"Right…" I hummed. "I've got some Niffler's fancy that are just taking off. So, that covers the garden. Candles? Yeah, I've got some alihosty spiked barrel-candles, can give one each to Remus and Sirius, not for little-Harry, though, maybe… hmm… Check that cupboard, Ron are there any orange or lime spiked candles left?" I was already digging in a different cupboard and just pointed at the one I wanted Ron to check.
"Yep, both, mate, which one do ya want?"
"Lime, I loved the smell of lime when I was little. Lime and cherries. Oh… cherries. I've got a miniaturised cherry tree, I can give little-Harry that." I crowed and left Ron in the kitchen while I ran downstairs. I paused as I went passed the cloaks and tilted my head. Nope, none of them were right. I quickly waved my wand and floated the three plants after me, as I headed back upstairs.
"All sorted?"
"Almost. Check me?"
"Candles?" Ron dutifully repeated.
"Check. Alihosty for Sirius and Remus, Lime for little-Harry."
"Something from the garden?"
"Check. Miniature cherry tree for little-Harry and Niffler's Fancy for Sirius and Remus."
"Something for them to wear?"
"I'll need to stop in muggle London or somewhere for that."
"Why?"
"I'm thinking a hooded blanket." I answered.
"A what?" Ron frowned.
"A hooded blanket. It's a large blanket that has a slit right in the middle with a hood on one side of the slit. You wear it like a pullover raincoat or a poncho and it reaches to your knees… or longer, in little-Harry's case. Sirius is going to love it and Remus? I can see him cuddled up in the thing, right after a full moon." I froze for a second. "Ooh, I've an idea, remind me on the way home to grab some buckwheat seeds."
"Uh…?"
"Heat packs, Ron. Like a warming charm but you can make it hot, not just warm and move it around. It'll be great for Remus for his aches, Sirius can keep his toes warm and little-Harry can cuddle his, if I make in the shape of a monkey." I explained.
"Brilliant. I was stumped on that one." Ron grinned. "Can we go, now? To Hogwarts, I mean."
"Sure, just let me get the thermos and the pot of stew. This is going to take a while and you're going to be starved when it's over."
"You better tell Mione where we're going, too."
Ron looked like Hogwarts had really put him through the wringer, she'd tested him before letting him drink the adoption potion, explaining that for the first few hours, his balance would be off as the minor changes happened. Which meant that I got to cheer my new brother on, as Hogwarts put him through his NEWTs, or at least through the practical assessments and verbally through the rest.
But in the end, she was pleased. While he was going through the changes that the adoption potion was wreaking on his body, she told me that he'd done well. Well enough that he'd have not trouble getting into the Auror corps. His potions knowledge wasn't perhaps as high as mine, but he hadn't had Snape's potions book for almost a year, in everything else he was right alongside me in getting mostly O's. Mother and Father were going to be pleased and Portia was going to be stunned.
Just as soon as he was stable on his feet, Hogwarts would do an identity test, so that if we needed to adjust anything, we could get it done, before the potion was completely set. Then, I'd take him home, feed him and put him to bed. By morning, he'd be the Ron he was going to be for the rest of his life.
Ron lay on the floor panting.
"That sucked hairy bollocks." He rasped.
"It does, doesn't it?" I agreed.
"An' yer wan' Mione, ter do it?"
"Portia and yes, I do. The alternative? If she's caught, it doesn't bear thinking of, Ron."
"Nah, s'pose it don't." He sighed. "Now, wha'?"
"While you were writhing around on the floor, Hogwarts suggested a minor memory charm." I answered.
"Fer wha'?"
"I've had the last nine months to work on this and I still have to catch myself, sometimes." I answered. "Hogwarts is suggesting a memory charm that makes us think that we are, who we are now. That our memories will match our written histories, at least as far as telling anyone is concerned. So, for me, even if I was under veritaserum, I know that my name is Hadrien Blaire Potter-Prewett and that's the only name I can give. For you, your sense of self would be as Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett. The only place we would, or could falter, would be in adding Prewett, but even Moody will admit, that's a late addition. It would also enable us to think and speak about Research as Portia, not as Hermione."
"Is that a good thing?"
"I think so. I mean, how many Hermione's are there? If she keeps the same surname and is Hermione Granger? There's already a Hermione Granger here in this time-stream. Add to that, she's a muggleborn or halfblood and didn't go to Hogwarts? This close to the war? That's just asking for trouble."
"War?"
"It's December 1984, the war didn't end until after the Godric's Hollow thing, at Halloween 1981. That's just three years ago. For Moody, that's as good as yesterday."
"Right…" He sighed again. "So, a memory charm? Just us or Mio- Portia, too?"
"I'm thinking just us, but we'll have to see when she gets here. I mean, Research already uses Portia as an alias, you've seen her owl-mail stuff, it's all addressed to Portia A Granger. Kinda where I got the name from."
Ron sat up, his eyes slightly unfocused. "But only outside Hogwarts. I mean… I've heard her introduce herself to muggles… while we were on the Hunt… as Portia. And…" He paused clearly thinking. "And when we stayed at Grimmauld Place? We went to Diagon, remember?"
"When we used glamour-rings to follow Malfoy?"
"Yeah. She said her name was Portia, then, and some of the shop owners knew who that was, or at least one commented about some order that they couldn't fill and another had her order ready."
"And Portia accepted that…"
"…she was pleased, even asked if he had the any other books by the same author. She pulled out this notebook and told him what she already had, he commented that she hadn't bought the first one from him and she said it was a gift. Remember?" Ron shook his head in amusement.
"Yeah, neither of us got a chance to ask after that Legilimency book." I grimaced. "It would have come in handy."
"Yeah." He grunted. "Can I do the test, now? I kinda wanna get off this floor and have another shower."
"Hogwarts? Has enough time passed to do Ron's test?"
A chalkboard appeared, resting against the wall and on it, more writing.
Certainly, Hadrien.
A table with the relevant equipment appeared. A knife. A phial. And a sheet of parchment.
You know what to do, Ronson, Hadrien.
"We do." I answered and held out the knife to Ron, he stabbed his finger against it and let ruby red blood drip into the phial. I let it fall until the right number of drops had fallen, then I stoppered the phial and gave it a gentle swirl to mix the liquids completely. We waited for a few seconds, then I ceremoniously handed it to Ron and gestured to the parchment.
"Come on, bro, pour it out." I pleaded, dropping the ceremony.
"Keep ya pants on." He grinned, but poured the liquid over the parchment and it soaked in without pooling. In seconds, the words began to appear.
Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett(14 November1966 -)
Mother– Rachel Anne Potter, nee Browning (born Prewett) (15 may 1948 - )
Father– Webster Henry Potter (23 September 1947 - )
Godfathers– Gideon Fredrick Prewett & Fabian George Prewett (1 April 1950 – 25 September 1981)
Godmother– nil.
"Bollocks." We both said, together, looking primarily at the date of birth.
"Okay, so that's not going to work." I sighed.
"Nope, too close to yours." Ron agreed. "Ten months is not going to work."
"Bugger." I huffed, then a thought occurred to me. "None of the Weasley's are in January, just me, why don't we put you there, too, we can do your birthday properly this time. No having to scrape just to get a basic meal." I was trying to tempt him and he knew it.
"But…"
"Look Luna's in February, little-Ron's in March and so's Remus, the twins in April, your D- Arthur's in May, Molly in June, little-Harry in July, Percy in August, Hermione in September and we'll keep her there for the moment, October's empty but already gone, Bill and Sirius are in November and Charlie's in December. But there's no one in January, other than me and we can share." I babbled on.
Ron, meanwhile was laughing.
"Okay, okay. I'll be in January with you, but how?"
I gave him a foul look and turned to the chalkboard.
"Hogwarts can we have a permanent de-aging potion that will make Ron's birthday sometime in January the year after me. Ron pick a date." I ordered.
"3rd of January." Ron answered.
"Hogwarts? Please?"
Of course. On the table a small phial shimmered into being.
"Thanks." Ron muttered and reached for the phial. Twenty seconds later, he shuddered. "That feels… Ugh." He shuddered again. "Yuck. Hey, Hogwarts? How long does that take to work? To register on your test, I mean?"
Three minutes, Ron.
"Cool. Can I get something to eat, Harry?" He asked. "I'm starving."
I'd anticipated that and was ready, I pointed my wand at a bowl of stew, I'd got ready. "Calidius." I said firmly, I wanted the stew hot all the way through, there's nothing worse than lukewarm stew or soup. "There you go. Get that into you."
"Ta, mate." He grinned, grabbed a spoon and dug in.
The time passed, Ron ate his stew and we both had tea, then Hogwarts began to write again.
Gentlemen, are you going to use the memory charm?
Ron and I looked at each other and shrugged, but I left it for him to answer. He already knew my choice.
"Yeah." He said. "Disappearing into the Department of Mysteries don't sound too good. If Harry trusts you, so will I… And he said something about memories of the muggle world?"
Yes, I can provide memories, combined memories, not a particular person's. They show a place or an event from an exterior point of view, not from a particular person's. It will give you the opportunity to understand the muggle world as a muggleborn, or muggle raised, would. It won't give you the memory of doing something, but it will of watching someone else do it. When the weather clears, spend a bit of time wandering through a muggle city, it will reinforce what you've learnt and the charm will help, too it will set it in your mind.
A second identity test kit appeared on the table, along with a large jar of swirling memories.
Once you've done the identity test, all you have left are the memories and the memory charm. I suggest absorbing the memories before setting them with the charm. To assimilate the memories, you will need to use two wands. One to begin to lift the memories free of the container and a second is needed to direct them to your head. It would be best to be sitting down when you do this, the intake of memories is be off-balancing and you're still slightly unstable on your feet, due to the adoption potion.
A chair, very similar to the ones in the Gryffindor common room appeared and Ron huffed, but sat, he hated admitting a weakness, but Hogwarts had warned him it would happen. And thankfully it would last only a few hours.
Identity test first, if you please, Ronson.
"Sure." Ron reached for the knife and stabbed his own finger this time. The blood dripped into the phial and he stoppered it and gave it a little shake. When the liquid was a uniform colour he tipped out over the parchment and waited.
Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett(3 January1967 -)
Mother– Rachel Anne Potter, nee Browning (born Prewett) (15 may 1948 - )
Father– Webster Henry Potter (23 September 1947 - )
Godfathers– Gideon Fredrick Prewett & Fabian George Prewett (1 April 1950 – 25 September 1981)
Godmother– nil.
"Much better." I grinned at Ron. "Little brother."
"Guess I was destined to be your brother… one way or another…" He said, a subtle dig at Ginny and my relationship.
"Yeah, no. Not a chance. Little-Ginny's a bitch. I'm not going near that and I'll work my butt off to see that, if she doesn't do a heck of a lot of growing up, she's never going to get her claws into little-Harry." I snarled.
I doubt there is much of a chance for her, not with little-Harry being raised by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Add in the reaction to James Potter's shade's comments and people are already starting to raise Lily Potter to the position of The-Woman-Who-Outsmarted the Dark Lord. Harry is slowly becoming a nonentity. Muggleborns are already being told that Lily Potter ended Voldemort, but when Harry is mentioned, it's simply 'oh, he's Lily Potter's son'. Even Molly Weasley is changing the tales she's telling Ginevra. They no longer revolve around Harry, but are now more suited to a child her age.
"Well, that's something at least." I sighed. "He deserves better than what she is right now."
"You said it, mate." Ron nodded fervently. "At this age, she deserves a right thrashing, only she won't get it, Mum dotes on her. She's the first girl in the Weasley family for five generations."
"That's no excuse." I responded.
"Nope, it's not, but that's Mum for you." He shrugged. "So, the memories?"
"Yep." I answered.
Yes, Ronson. One wand to begin the lifting process and then the second wand to direct them to your mind.
Ron sat forward a little, before flicking his wrists and letting his wands fall into his hands. I lifted the lid on the jar and stepped back.
"Right." He raised one wand and let the tip fall into the twisting strands, one latching onto the dark Bocote-wood wand before he lifted it high enough to touch his second wand to the filmy strand and guide it towards his forehead. As the strand touched his skin, there was a shimmer and the strand contracted almost violently, disappearing into his skin like a rope pulled through a hole. He shuddered and shook, trembling so badly that his fingers couldn't keep hold of his wand and they began to slide towards the floor.
"Accio Ron's wands." I pointed one of my canary-wood wands at them and both wands zipped towards my waiting hand.
He will be disorientated for a while, Hadrien, you will need to cast the memory charm and tie it to his blood. It is of no use to either of you if it can be removed with a simple 'finite'. If it was possible I would even suggest parseltongue. Hogwarts wrote.
"I can do that… I think... How long should I wait?"
Do it know before he realises, it is quite painful, the headache will require potions to alleviate.
"Should I do myself first?"
No. Definitely not. As I said, it is quite painful. You likened having a Legilimens attack you, to suffering a concussion? This will be much the same.
"Ouch. Right. What's the charm?"
I can only give you the Latin version, I am afraid that I do not understand parseltongue.
"If I require it? Can you, then?"
No, it a part of a blood line, the Potter bloodline and I do not share your blood.
"Potter? Ron? What's the chances of Ron understanding it?"
It's possible, I do not know, there is no documented evidence to say it will happen, but other blood-borne gifts are recorded as being gifted to those adopted. You will just have ask him, but I suggest not doing so, now.
"Yeah, no. Not now. The charm? In Latin?"
Et scripsit historiam tuam, memoriam vestri. Ita fiat esto.
"What's it mean? In English, I mean?"
Make your written history, your memories. So be it!
"Right, give me a moment." I was doing my best to ignore Ron, who was now lying on the floor and moaning, holding his head in his hands. I closed my eyes, letting the thought of snakes fill my mind and took a deep breath before I open my eyes and mouth.
:§: Et scripsit historiam tuam, memoriam vestri. Ita fiat esto.:§:I hissed in parseltongue, more than a little surprised that it worked. On the floor Ron tensed, then slumped, unconscious.
"Was that supposed to happen?" I asked, alarmed.
It's possible that his pain tolerances aren't as elevated as yours. While he's still unconscious, feed him the analgesic potion, a few drops at a time, not enough to choke on.
"Ana-analgessic?" I stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
Analgesia, pronounced anel-geez-ee-a, is the inability to feel pain and analgesics are medications that induce that inability.
"In common English, they're painkillers, then?" Sometimes Hogwarts forgot that I was only eighteen and had lived a fairly isolated life.
They are. I could read the exasperation in the two words.
"Okay." I reached for the phial of potion that had appeared on the table and with it in my hand I turned to Ron. "Arrigo." When Ron was in a semi upright position, I knelt beside him and tilted his head back, lifting the phial I trickled the potion into his mouth, slowly enough that he was able to swallow the metallic blue liquid. When the phial was empty I conjured a mattress and floated him to it.
"Can I take the analga- the pain potion, before I do the charm?" I gave up trying to pronounce the strange word.
No, unfortunately not, the potion works too fast.
"Can the potion be slowed?"
In what manner? Altering the potion will render it useless.
"But what if I didn't alter it?" I hummed in thought. "What if I encased it in something that cancelled automatically after a set amount of time?"
Like what?
"Like…" I looked at the thermos. "Like tea? A bubble of tea that holds it's shape for… oh, say thirty seconds?"
There was a familiar sound of an engine humming as Hogwarts thought about what I'd said.
That might just work. If you surrounded an orb of the analgesic in a very fine layer of air then a second layer tea or milk and then placed just that outer layer under a timed stasis… That would get you the best result. But be warned… the charm may still have time to render you unconscious before the analgesic has a chance to mitigate the side-effects.
"Damn."
Agreed. But it is worth it, for the lower levels of discomfort and the shorter recovery time.
"Yeah?" I hadn't thought about that. "Alright. Give me a phial of potion on the table, please." While I waited for it to appear, I poured a mug of tea. "Right. So…" This, I knew how to do, I did it each month when I cleaned my fish tank, well… part of it, part of it was used for cleaning and another part for containing fumes and another part was commonly used in potion making. "Pila facere." I pointed my wand at the phial and watched as the contents poured themselves upwards and blobbed together into a vaguely round shape. "Iacuit caeli." A shimmering layer of air formed around the blob, forcing it into a perfect sphere. The tip of my wand touched the surface of the tea in the large mug. "Pila cignite." And the tea rose trickling up and around the orb, until nothing was visible but the tea. I took a deep breath before I cast the last bit, if I screwed this up, the whole thing was lethal. "Moram finite ad 30 seconds." I sighed in relief when I saw the strands of light encircle the orb, mixing two languages in the one spell or charm was touchy, mess it up and it basically becomes a magical version of a muggle hand-grenade. Now all I had to do was get it into my stomach.
"I'm not sure that's flexible enough to swallow." I grimaced.
It's not. You'll have to banish it, directly into your stomach.
"Ew, great. Alright, here goes- wait. The charm? Can you put it up for me, cause it's going to be different for me than what I did to Ron, right?"
That's right. You will need to use this version… 'Ut mihi scripsit historiam, mea memorias'. The wording is slightly different.
"Thanks. Here goes nothing." I took a deep breath and sent up a quick prayer to Lady Magic, that I'd got everything right and that this worked. "Exclusio intra corpus."(Banish inside body) And touched my wand to my stomach, suddenly I felt like I'd swallowed a ball and in a way I suppose I had. "Don't let me die. Please, Hogwarts." I begged.
I shan't.
:§: Ut mihi scripsit historiam, mea memorias. Ita fiat esto:§: I cast the memory charm and the pain in my head was instant. Gods, it was bad, not even Snape's legilimency attacks hurt like this. Hell, not Voldemort's hurt like this. I'd just managed to think that when everything went black.
I had no idea how much passed, but suddenly I was awake.
"Ugh… Not doing that again." I grumbled.
"Nope." Ron agreed.
"Help me up?" I held out a hand and as expected Ron dragged me to my feet. My other hand went to my head, it felt the size of a house. "Hogwarts? Would a headache potion help?"
No, but this might. A small phial sat on the table. It's variant on the potions for the Longbottoms.
"It does help." Ron said. "She gave me one and the headache went from Bellatrix's Cruciatus to the Ferret's."
"Great." I quickly swallowed down the slightly bubbly pink potion and felt the ache drop almost instantly. "Oh, that's nice…" I sighed.
"Longbottoms?" Ron asked.
"Why should little-Nev have to go without parents when Hogwarts can fix them?"
"Oh… okay." Ron tilted his head and looked at me. "What next?" Sometimes the trust Ron gave me, scared the crap out of me. I'd just put him through something that to me felt like a mental Cruciatus and here he was asking, 'what next'?
"Hogwarts? What do we have left to do? For Ron, I mean?"
So far we have completed -
· New wands
· Basic clothing
· Webster and Rachel have been notified
· The adoption.Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett(3January1967 -)
· The memory charm.
· The muggle memories.
· Money, awaiting a vault.
· 9 OWLs, (Astronomy, CoMC, Charms, Defence, Herbology, History of Magic, Muggle Studies, Potions and Transfig.). I've put in a request for a additional copy of Ronson's results to be sent with his NEWTs results.
· 7 NEWTs (CoMC, charms, defence, herbology, muggle studies, potions, transfig).Results have yet to be forwarded to you. Your exams are registered as being assessed by Erica Littleman with your last test being five days ago, Madam Littleman was killed in a muggle car accident in Vienna, yesterday.
· Rachel has provided outline for muggle schooling, banking and health records to be lodged at midnight, when the computer systems turn over.
There is very little that still needs to be completed
· Get muggle authority letter from Webster stating that Ronson has permission to be with Hadrien until his eighteenth birthday. (optional as only a fortnight away)
· Gringotts for personal vault and formal identity testing.
· Apparition test.
After these are done, the only thing to be done is to wait for the arrival of Portia. But most of all, you both must live the lives before you. Do not mourn for those from your native time-stream, Tower of London, Ministry and I have reached the conclusion that their souls have be assimilated into other time-streams. Their souls, not necessarily their consciousness's, but the actual souls.
"I'm not sure that makes it any easier." I sighed sadly.
No, it may not. But take comfort in the fact that they have not been discarded.
"There is that." Ron allowed. "But what I meant was… what now? As in… now, today, this next minute."
"Oh, well I need to send- oh bollocks, bollocks, bollocks." I swore and smacked forehead repeatedly with the heel of my hand.
"What?" Ron held out both hands in surprise.
"I left Cookie at home." I moaned.
"Well… what're we going to do about it? Can we send him when we get back?"
"No. He can't fly in the weather in the south." I huffed. "That would be cruel." Not even a huge eagle owl should be asked this weather, he and Lacy were staying home.
"What about that Messenger thing? What you sent Portia." He blinked. "Oh, hey? It worked. I didn't even think about it, Research is Portia." Ron beamed at me.
"Really? Wow, that's great." I grinned back. "As for a Messenger? I didn't even give it a thought. Of course I can send one to Sirius. Hang on a sec." I turned slightly to one side. "Nuntio expecto." I waited until the Messenger flames settled in front of me. "Message to Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and little-Harry, to be delivered when they're at home and two or more of them are in the one room, with no muggle present." I figured that Sirius and little-Harry would eat dinner together each night, if nothing else. "Hi Sirius, Remus, little-Harry, it's Hadrien. I apologise for not sending an owl in reply to your invitation, but the weather is foul down here. I'll not let my owls get sick in it. So… consider this to be the alternative. I would be happy to join you for Yule on Friday. And yes, Sirius, Ron will be joining me. He's finished his NEWTs and decided that he couldn't wait until his birthday, to join me. Knocked on my door this morning, almost blue with the cold. Idiot. Anyway… We'll be along about… huh? What time? Ron?" I turned to Ron, who'd yelled 'Oi' when I called him an idiot.
"Midday. Unless we hear otherwise."
"Right. Hear that? We'll be along about midday. If you want a different time, send us a Messeng-"
"Patronus, Harry. You haven't told anyone, other than me, how to send a Messenger." Ron cut in.
"Oops, right. Um… Yeah. Midday or send a patronus?" I flicked my wand and the flames flashed bright and vanished.
"That's going to get an interesting reaction." Ron laughed.
"Oh, you've no idea. The Messenger records all voices in a certain proximity."
"Ah…? In English, mate?"
"The heard you, too." I grinned.
"O-kay… That's definitely going to get an interesting reaction."
We exchanged looks and began to laugh.
Oh, get out of here you two. Come see me when Portia arrives. Hogwarts wrote.
"Hey? Can we have a door to a blind spot in a shopping mall car-park. Somewhere I can get blankets and groceries. Please?"
Certainly. Any particular town?
"As long as the weather is fine and the shops are open, I don't really care."
That I can do. If you would look to Hadrien's left, you will see a door to a lovely little blind spot in Waverly station in Edinburgh. You'll find almost everything in the Waverly Mall beside the station.
"Brilliant!" I crowed.
I suggest you go now. There seems to be a lull in the shoppers and closing time is less than an hour away.
I looked at Ron. "You ready to face the muggle world?"
"As long as I'm just following you, I'll be fine." He huffed. "Come on, let's get your blankets and wheat and go home. Yeah?"
"Yeah." Gods, it was so good to have him at my side, again.
