Harry Potter and the Golden Sovereign

As told to Ian Postre

"Disclaimer: This story is fanfiction. No financial benefit will be gained from the sharing or reproduction of this story. All characters and worlds described are the property of J.K Rowling. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.
"The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 9

They were both fed up as they settled at the only free table at the Leaky Cauldron. With double Potions first thing on Monday morning, this was their last real chance to look for Harry, and both Ron and Hermione were in Diagon Alley without permission anyway. Leaving school without permission could get them into serious trouble with McGonagall and their fellow Gryffindors were bound to wonder where they were if they didn't get back to Hogwarts soon.

Under the guise of helping Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest, Hermione had called in a favour owed by a witch who ran a shop from a lesser known apocethary in Hogsmeade and they'd hitched a ride in her charmed,and equally illegal Muggle van which would be heading back in an hour. She'd questioned Ron's determination for them to both return to Diagon Alley and search for Harry as soon as possible.

She'd told him it was risky and would get them both into serious trouble. At the same time, Hermione knew they didn't really have a choice, as thus was where Harry had last been. In the end she had given in. A few hours of fruitless searching later and trying just about every spell she knew to get into a still very closed Tockley's and she was tired, scowling and at a loss of what to do next. They'd retired to the Leaky Cauldron which was dry and warm, and both of them were glad to be out of the pounding rain that had been drenching them for the last hour.

"Listen, Ron" said Hermione, "We've searched everywhere. Tockley's is well and truly closed for the season and with more protection charms around it than Hogwarts. Who knows where Samuel Tockley has gone off to. We've been shoved and threatened in Knockturn Alley and almost thrown out of Gringots. Listen Ron. Harry isn't here! We'll simply have to go back to Hogwarts and go straight to Professor Dumbledore..."

"Bloody Hell, Harry!" complained Ron. "Why couldn't you have waited for us!

Ron, who was fidgeting with his wand, tapped the heavy, old table in frustration. "I need a butterbeer. A large one."

Hermione glared at Ron. There was a pause. "Oh, I see" scowled Hermione. "What a gentleman you are. I'll get them, shall I, Ron?"

Hermione stood up; Ron wasn't really listening. "Cool."

She harrumphed and stomped off to the bar, leaving Ron staring moodily into space and continuing to fiddle with his wand. He flicked it a little to the left and then pointed it lazily at the table. The table was covered in writing - graffiti etched over decades, even centuries by wizards and witches for a host of reasons lost to history. Ron could just make out a "Brina loves Nickoff" with a broomstick carved through a heart. There was a more-recent looking set of calculations and a some crudely written words that made Ron grin. "Snape is a greasy twerp". Just above the word twerp was a much fainter bit of etching. Whoever had carved these words with their wand into the old wood must have done it a very long time ago. Ron leaned forward, his curiosity piqued and tried to read the words. He grew accustomed to the more faint wording and then dropped his wand in shock. It clattered across the table, coming to rest just before it would have fallen off the other side of the table. "Blimey!"

"Hermione!" Ron barely breathed, then, realising she was over at a crowded bar, turned and shouted, almost screamed her name. "Hermione! Get over here. You have to see this."

Heads turned at the sudden eruption of a shout in what had been a mood of whispering and low key chatting. Hermione hurried over, two frothing butterbeers in her hands. She carefully placed them on the table. "What are you shouting for? I was coming. There's a big queue at the bar..."

""Never mind that. I think I've found Harry."

Hermione frowned, looking disbelieving. "Found Harry? What on earth are you on about, Ron."

"Look." said Ron. He took Hermione's arm and pulled her closer to the table. He guided her hand to the place where Ron had read the faint wand-etched words.

"Graffiti. Yes, it's shameful if you ask me. Why can't people just come for a drink and...". Hermione tried to sit down.

""No. Be quiet a minute. Here! HERE! Look! Read that!" Ron said urgently.

Hermione leaned closer, over the table and read the words that Ron pointed at.

Hermione gasped and looked at Ron. Ron was nodding and looking back at Hermione.

"She turned back to the words, this time reading them aloud. "Harry Potter, 1868."
"Triple blimey!" exclaimed Ron.

"We have to tell Dumbledore!" Ron was saying as they both waited outside the Leaky Cauldron for their lift back to Hogwarts with the witch. If the witch wasn't late they'd be back in time for supper and no one would be any the wiser.

Ron expecting Hermione to immediately agree, did a double take when she shook her head and replied: "Ron. I've just realised - we can't."

""Blimey!" Ron retorted. "Well, well! I didn't expect that from you! You're usually the one who says we should go running to a teacher when someone so much as farts in class."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron." Hermione said, hurt.

Ron scowled. "Then why can't we? Harry is stuck in the past - over a hundred years ago! A minute ago you were doing your usual 'Let's go and tell the headmaster routine'!"

"We don't know that he's stuck." said Hermione, getting flustered.

Ron pressed on. "Well what's he doing there, then? And why didn't he bloody well tell us?"

Hermione looked very worried. "I don't know, Ron. But don't you see? Harry has travelled through time. That golden sovereign must have been some kind of temporal apport. It would have apparated him without him needing to know how to do it himself. If there was a box, that is."

"How the hell do you know THAT? Read it in the library I suppose?" Ron half-smiled.

Hermione glared at Ron. "As a matter of fact, yes. But that's off the point, Ron. Using time magic to travel is illegal, Ron. It's about as illegal as you can get. Harry would be expelled immediately if a teacher found out. And God knows what the ministry would do to him. It doesn't bear thinking about."

Ron paced up and down, feeling completely at sea. He had no idea what they should do next. "Then what do we do?"

Hermione looked worried. "We'll talk through everything properly. We might be able to find out more in the..."

"Alright dears. Got all me stock and ready to hit the road. The van's parked out the front. My, my, you two look like you've just seen a death eater, and you're drenched through!" It was their lift back to Hogsmeade. Selena Sevenby smiled a gap-toothed smile, turned and headed for the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
They hurried after the witch as even heavier rain began to fall on Diagon Alley. Evening was closing in, accompanied by menacing rumbles of thunder, and the jolly witch opened the side doors to the van with a flick of her wand, the indicated two seats that, empty on the way here, were now piled with packages and two cages of albino weasels. "Buckle up" she said, grinning, and you'll have to squash in with me shopping and don't put yer fingers in those cages, not if you want 'em still attached to your 'ands when you get back to school." A giggle turned to a slightly unhinged, witchy cackle.

"We need to find out more, Ron. Before we can decide what to do. For the moment, we are just going to hope that Harry knows what he is doing." Hermione whispered, as the van darted, unnoticed through heavy muggle London traffic.

Ron's worried look hadn't left his face since they'd first arrived in Diagon Alley. "We need to find Harry, full stop, Hermione. And I reckon, bloody quick."