Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter, nor any characters
Some lines were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Sorry for the lateness on this! Thank you to all of the favorites and follows, they're really appreciated!
1995
Albus skipped a few stairs to catch up to Ron, who was peering over the banister on the landing before the ground floor. It appeared Ginny had already descended the last flight of stairs.
"Shh!" Ron hissed as he and Hermione approached. "We might be able to hear something."
Al wasn't the most comfortable with spying on people-that was more Lily's thing, but he leaned over the banister to watch below as well.
A crowd of witches and wizards muttered to each other in the hallway below, some of them, he noticed with amusement, rubbing their noses and casting dirty looks at the dusty walls. Glancing over at Ron and Hermione, he noticed that they were leaning further over the banister, staring down at the people below with determination.
"Snape's there," Ron said with obvious disgust. Albus frowned, and decided he was going to find out what was so bad about his namesake eventually. Unfortunately, he wasn't exactly sure how.
Al almost jumped when a flesh colored string descended to the floor below right in front of him. Glancing upward, he noticed Fred and George sharing an Extendable Ear on the landing above, clearly trying to do the same thing he, Ron, and Hermione were doing.
The ear was abruptly pulled up, and he heard a faint "Dammit," from upstairs, and then feet on the creaky wood.
"Snape's gone now," Hermione noted, taking her weight off the banister and turning to smile at Al.
"He never stays for dinner, thank Merlin," Ron added as he turned to go down the steps. Hermione followed, with Al at the back. "C'mon, I'm hungry."
The three teenagers found Ginny at the next landing, apparently trying to glean information just as they and Fred and George were.
"Got anything interesting?" Ron asked her.
"No," she said, sighing. Albus waited for her to run her fingers through her hair like she always did when she was thinking, but her hands stayed dangling at her sides. He sighed too. She probably wouldn't do it for a while anyway. "They all stopped talking when they walked near me. I think there are a few silencing charms too, but they'd be gone now."
"Remember to be quiet when we get to the bottom," Hermione muttered to Albus as they continued their descent. He was about to ask why, but thought the better of it when he realized that he might already be expected to know.
His question was soon answered when there was a loud crash! from the end of the hall. Al turned abruptly toward the door, and saw Tonks sprawled on the ground, having apparently tripped over an umbrella holder.
"Oh, blimey," Ginny muttered, covering her ears. Al was about to ask why, but that was soon answered as well.
Across the hall, he noticed moth eaten curtains that he had dismissed before as part of the normal setting in his overwhelmed state opened, revealing a painting. In the frame sat a woman with the most wrinkled skin he had ever seen, with scraggly black hair and eyes that were almost hazel.
Opening her mouth, she let out one of the worst shrieks Al had ever heard. Her grotesque throat widened as she screamed, waking up all of the other portraits so they shouted too, creating such a cacophony that he stuck his fingers in his ears.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-bloods, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers!"
Tonks was loudly apologizing as Ms. Weasley assured her that it wasn't her fault, though the exasperated look on her face suggested otherwise. Albus still had his hands clamped over his ears, and so did Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. The four were rooted in place, watching as the scene unfolded.
A man ran out of the kitchen into the hallway. He had dark, curly hair that fell just past his chin, and a messily trimmed black goatee. A long trenchcoat flew out behind him as he ran down the hallway, shabby leather shoes clacking against the wooden floors. He was headed straight from the screaming portrait, strange, as everyone else was shying away from it with obvious distaste.
"Shut up, you horrible hag! Shut up!" He shouted as he neared the screeching woman.
"Yoooou!" The portrait shouted. "Blood traitor! Abomination! Shame of my flesh!"
"I-said-shut-up!" The man roared again. Lupin leaped forward to help him as they shoved the curtains closed, each man strained from the effort. The woman's screeches were silenced, much to the relief of everyone in the hall.
Al watched with wide eyes as the man turned around to face him, smiling with fake satisfaction. His features were vaguely familiar now that they weren't moving and sharpened under the light. It was like he had seen them in an old wedding photo, or something. Whatever it was, he couldn't quite place the man.
"Hello, Harry," he said, the air of satisfaction disappearing quickly to a quiet grimness. "I see you've met my mother."
1975
Mcgonagall was glaring at her, and Lily was shaking. The walk to the currently empty Transfiguration classroom had been bad enough, all unfamiliar faces in vaguely recognizable halls, though they somehow looked older than she remembered. Marlene and Alice had stuck close to her, brushing shoulders, with Hestia trailing slightly behind them. Mary walked ahead, waving to people. They greeted Lily sometimes, but she kept her head down, clutched Lily Evans's books tight to her chest and walked fast, which seemed to luckily be normal for her grandmother. She had said brief goodbyes to her dorm mates before gratefully ducking into the room.
She had stood there for a few moments, taking it all in. It looked the same, old wooden desks arranged in front of a black board, wrought iron lanterns hanging from the stone ceiling.
Mcgonagall herself sat in the teacher's desk, a little taller and only slightly less wrinkled, but equally terrifying. Frowning as she noticed Lily in the doorway, she stood up.
"Miss Evans?"
Potter, Lily almost let out, but remembered that Mcgonagall would probably associate her with James Potter in a more romantic sense than familial if she started out with that.
The teacher stood up, staring at Lily. Biting her lip, the red headed girl struggled to keep her hands steady.
"Are you alright?"
"No," slipped out before she could think about it. Lily grimaced as the word left her lips, wishing she had planned out the conversation beforehand. Her mind had been too filled with anxiety and the crushing sense of solidarity that she hadn't properly thought about how the conversation would go.
"No?" Mcgonagall repeated. "Shall I take you to Madame Pomfrey?"
"No!" Lily exclaimed. "No, I need help. F-from you. I think." Blast it, why was she being so jittery? Mcgonagall had always been scary, but the Slytherin had always held up well under her cutting gaze when she was getting her and her brothers out of trouble.
"From me?" Mcgonagall nodded, still frowning in Lily's direction. "Why don't you sit down, Miss Evans." She briskly sat down at her desk, gently pressing her thumbs under her chin to hold up her head, and regarding Lily with such a familiar look that it almost gave her vertigo. Gulping in nervousness, the red head obediently sat down.
"Yes." At least that answer was easy. She sounded calm but driven, even though the first emotion was distinctly incorrect.
"And with what? I must say, I know Transfiguration isn't your best subject, but you don't usually come to me for direction."
"It's not about Transfiguration," Lily said flatly. "I mean, not that I don't like Transfiguration, it's just not giving me trouble right now." She'd messed up again, the words falling out of her mouth before she could shut it. If she was going to get through this without running the conversation in her mind over and over again that night, she needed to get that under control.
"I see," Mcgonagall said contemplatively, in the way that teachers do when they don't see at all. "And if not about my class, what has forced you from your compelling Arithmancy course to seek my assistance?"
Confident body language included relaxed muscles and an open stance, eye contact and clear speech. Confidence also translated into trustworthiness, which was essential if she was going to get her eventual headmistress's help. Lily repeated the lines in her head, derived from years of watching the way her family and friends moved when they weren't paying attention to movement. Forcing herself to meet Mcgonagall's eyes, she gently leaned back in her chair before speaking. She could do this. She just needed to control the situation. "It's a matter of time travel," she said, disguising her amazement at her calm tone with a tense smile.
"Time travel," Mcgonagall repeated, raising her eyebrows. Lily forced herself to keep her hands at her sides, keeping up her hopefully confident looking act. "I'm sorry, Miss Evans, but I don't deal with time travel problems from students very often. Would you like to elaborate?"
"Today I woke up in the year 1975, and yesterday I woke up in the year 2022, and I don't know how to get back home," Lily said, managing to keep her shoulders square, but words tumbling haphazardly through her lips anyway.
"Lily Evans-"
"It's Potter," Lily said, glancing downward to avoid the shocked expression on the teacher's face.
"Lily… Potter?" There was disbelief evident in her voice, and all of the sudden Lily wished she was anyway but here. She had to keep the future a secret and gain trust at the same time, and she was already failing at the first item on her list.
"Yes."
"Alright, Miss Potter. If you are not my student, then where is Miss Evans? You certainly bear a good resemblance to her, and if you are really from 2022, then you could conceivably be a relative."
"I don't know where she is," Lily said. "And I can't tell you too much about the future. It could mess things up, and I don't know how to Obliviate someone." Seeing that she was gaining trust, Lily let herself drop her shoulders and frown a little, though keeping the tears hidden behind her eyelids when she blinked.
"I see. Well then, Lily…" Mcgonagall coughed in apparent discomfort with the new correlation. "... Potter. Why don't you explain what's happened since you woke up in 2022?"