The next bit, Harry found particularly distasteful. He already knew the information he needed so it seemed silly to use force to get it out of Borgin, but Harry didn't know enough about timeturners and their effects on time to make choices about messing up the timelines. (A voice in the back of his head nagged that he should have done more research on them during the summer months when he was chasing down time-altering devices, but he ignored that voice as usual.) Hermione might know about them, but alone without her, Harry had to muddle through the mess himself.
And his logic said to keep the timelines as real as possible.
Which led to Borgin temporarily stunned and then tied upside down. The man had started yelling in fear when Harry entered the store. Harry had waited for the Polyjuice Potion to wear off, and when he entered the store as himself, the owner freaked out which gave Harry just enough time to stun him.
The idea of threatening someone slightly turned Harry's stomach, but he stiffened his resolve as he approached Borgin, wand drawn.
Fear was a greater motivator than pain. Snape had drilled that into his head, usually through threats made to one unlucky Harry Potter. Fear of reprimand, of punishment, of lost privileges, of embarrassment had been enough most of the time.
"All right," Harry lowered his voice several notches, wishing he sounded as scary as Snape, "I'm going to ask some questions and you are going to answer me."
Borgin's eyes were large and frightened, but he stayed silent.
"If you answer all the questions correctly, I'll walk out of here and you'll never see me again. If you don't," Harry leaned forward, "I'm going to carve one of these," he tilted his left arm towards the man, showing the Dark Mark, "on your arm with your largest knife. Ready?"
"You belong in Azkaban," Borgin growled.
Harry smiled. "Not an answer, but I'll let this one go. I'm looking for a man who specializes in connecting spells. A man who can force a soul into its separated body. Give me the name."
"That's Dark Magic," Borgin squeaked. "It's forbidden."
"I didn't ask if it was illegal," Harry reached for a large machete.
"No, no," Borgin wiggled against the ropes. "I'll tell. Farrell Gringwad! He's a shifty bloke but he can do it . . . for a price. If fact, he'll do about anything for a price. But I wouldn't use him. Even after payments are complete, he tends to blackmail his –"
"Gringwad," Harry pretended to write the name down. "And where would I find him?"
"He comes to Diagon Alley every few months. I don't have an address."
Harry waited, wondering how much prompting he could give the man before the show fell apart and he screwed up the timeline.
"He sometimes takes a cuppa at that tea rag," Borgin gritted his teeth. "But I swear if you steal my money to pay that –"
"I have my own money," Harry stepped back.
He pointed his wand at Borgin and released him, tumbling the man to the ground. Borgin groaned, staring up at Harry with hatred.
"They're going to get you," he seethed. "They're going to lock you up and throw away the key."
"You have a nice day," Harry reached for his timeturner. "And I would promise you that I won't come back, but who knows what the future holds? I apologize for any torture I inflict after this."
Borgin let out a howl of frustration, but Harry was already turning the gadget back, all the way back to 9 o'clock in the morning.
The shop was dark and closed up, but Harry unlocked the front door, went out, and used magic to relock the door behind him. Exhaustion pulled him down, but he put on his Cloak and wandered through the cool streets into the main part of Diagon Alley. Only a few people were out, most repairing the burnt buildings, but Harry paused in front of the bank.
Gringotts must have had an anti-fire spell protecting it because its stone front wasn't even singed. The bank was open, and Harry could see the grim-looking goblins behind their desks.
This part would prove tricky, Harry frowned. Technically, he was underage so a guardian had to accompany him. Back in the fall, Harry had asked to visit his vault to take out a little money. Snape had demanded to know why, which Harry had evaded by shrugging and answering, "Oh, you know, for the holidays and gifts." That had pacified Snape, and they went in together to the vault. But Snape had had the key to the vault, the large brass key which he presented to the goblin in the lobby and which he had used to open the vault.
Harry had neither the key nor the guardian, but he decided to gamble. With the Cloak hiding him, he followed a portly man through the door.
The moment Harry stepped onto the marble floor, alarms began screaming out.
"Intruder! Intruder!" a demonic voice roared over the clanging alarms.
Goblins charged at the portly man who fumbled for his umbrella and tried to hit the snarling goblins. "I'm not hiding anything," the man yelled as he swung wildly. "And if you tear my robe, I'm going to sue this bank for every last Sickle that you have stuffed into-"
Harry ran back into the street and headed towards the inn. Sneaking into the bank was out. He would have to get the money another way.
A sip of the Polyjuice Potion, a painful transformation, and Harry went into the inn to rent a room. They let him have one without paying, implying that the bill would be settled at the end of his stay (good luck finding him), and Harry was in a room by 9:35.
He collapsed on the bed after setting the magical alarm by the bed for 3 hours. He didn't even remember falling on the bed to sleep, but the alarm woke him. Apparently, he didn't move fast enough because the bed flipped up right, dumping him to the floor.
Harry barely gave a groan as he hit the floor. He staggered into the bathroom to splash water on his face. His reflection almost scared him. He was back to himself, but bags hung heavy under his eyes, his hair was filthy, and his face shown with dull oil. But oddly enough his lower jaw was sprinkled with sparse hair. He had started growing facial hair.
"Right," Harry turned woodenly from the mirror, "like I have time to shave."
After more Polyjuice Potion, emptying the vial completely, he snuck out of the hotel with his satchel and went towards the tearoom. As he passed the bookstore, he thought he saw the earlier version of himself searching through the shelves. Harry pulled his collar up and hurried past, ignoring that version of himself.
Grindwad was seated in the tearoom, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet which of course featured the one and only Harry Potter. But disguised as the young stranger, Harry waged his bets that he could keep up the ruse. He took the seat across the man.
Gringwad looked up. "I'm not interested in company today. Move or I'll move you myself."
"I need a job done and I hear you're the man to do it," Harry eased the satchel down on his lap. "I need a soul put back in a body."
Gringwad lowered the paper, his face cold. "That's worth ten years in Azkaban. I don't know who you think you are, but I don't play with those spells. Perhaps you cursed your love and accidentally separated her body from her soul. Turn yourself in, take your punishment, and let the Ministry take over to heal her."
"I need you to do it, and I'll pay you well," Harry said, surprised at the calmness of his own voice.
"Ha," Gringwad sneered. "A measly thing like you who can't afford to dress himself and wanders around accosting –"
"I'll pay you 500."
"500 Sickles is a good amount for a child like you, but –"
"500 Galleons," Harry stared straight at the gruff man.
Gringwad's eyes widened the smallest bit. Then he barked out a laugh. "500 Galleons? That's more than a family has in three months. 500? What store do you plan to pinch to get that sort of loot? If it's Gringott's, may I watch them catch you and tear you apart while you try?"
"The money is my affair," Harry said. He pulled himself up straight. What would Snape do in this situation? What would he do to seal the deal?
Harry stuck his hand out. "Do we have an agreement?"
Gringwad smirked but he grabbed his hand in a crushing grip. "We do. You bring me 500 Galleons, and I'll put a soul anywhere you like. Here is my card," Gringwad flipped a glistening card at Harry. "Speak my name and I'll Apparate to where you are. But I warn you, if you call me without the money, I will rip you into so many pieces that no one will be able to find you."
Harry ignored his thudding heart. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
He stood and turned. Then he looked back. "Oh, later you will see me. I will pretend I don't know you or what you want."
Gringwad raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What? As a test?"
"Yes, a test. I'll ask a dumb question. Tell me who you are and what I'm paying you. Also you'll tell me where to meet you. Well, you'll tell me that I met you here and at this time."
Gringwad rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Anything else."
Harry grinned. "Tell me I found you through Mr. Borgin."
Harry took out the timeturner and flipped it forward two hours. The occupants of the shop disappeared, replaced with new customers.
Harry ducked out before anyone could comment on his sudden appearance and he made his way out of Diagon Alley and onto the normal streets of London. With the help of his wand, he lifted the wallet of the first Muggle he saw, a man in a business suit. Harry took the Muggle money out of the wallet, about forty pounds, and dumped the wallet in the nearest waste can. (And yes, he was sure it was against the Wizarding law to pickpocket Muggles with magic, but, eh, another crime to add to the list.) He went to King's Cross Station via the tube and bought a train ticket to the stop nearest to the inn where the Ministry would later attack.
The Knight Bus was a more convenient ride, but Harry didn't want to push his luck riding it twice in one day. He didn't mind Muggle travel, but he preferred wizard, if only to feel like he was patronizing the right people.
By the train schedule, he was set to arrive at the village stop by 7:45. Then he would make his way to the inn to find his friends and Snape as they fled the scene. On the train, Harry was happy to stuff the timeturner in his satchel and be done with it.
He hoped to sleep some on the train, but he found himself wide awake as he planned a way to get his money out of the bank. Twice he tried to reach out to see if he could find the Soul Snape, but again he had no luck.
At the station, Harry got off the train and started the half mile walk to the inn. On the train, he had put another hair in a second bottle of Polyjuice Potion so he could keep up the disguise. The cold January air chewed at his face, but he trudged on. Once at the inn, he watched from a window as he and his friends came down for supper.
In the dim light, they were all eating, Soulless Snape chewing and Luna with her desserts.
Harry chattered in the cold air, weighing his options as he saw himself get up and take Snape up to bed. Should he go inside or hide out here?
Small popping noises cut through the dark night. The wizards were Apparating, the same wizards that he would lead on a chase through the wood.
Harry pulled on his Cloak and slunk back against a tree. This was the tricky part – moving into the future. Going into the past was safe because he knew what would happen, at least as far as the fight in the woods. But the future – the future was still unknown
More pops and Harry began to see the wizards' movement.
But his friends didn't move. They stayed at the table, finishing off the last bit of food.
Harry looked back at the front of the inn. More and more wizards, but still his friends sat there. Hermione's face was the only one Harry could make out. She was listening intently to the conversation at the table, and her face was one of shock and awe.
But still she didn't move.
Tearing off his Cloak, Harry ran into the inn's back door and ducked into the dining area. "Get up!" he ordered.
"Who the hell are you?" Ron demanded, leaping to his feet.
"It's me, Harry Potter."
A second later, all wands except Luna's were pointed at him.
"I'm in disguise," Harry explained. "I have this," he showed them the vials of Polyjuice Potion and the timeturner, "and I've been back in time to get stuff done in Diagon Alley but we have to leave now because they are all here now to get us."
"He has the Cloak, too," Ron noticed.
"So he's either Harry or he's killed Harry and taken his stuff," Draco commented.
"We're moving," Hermione stood ready.
"You," Harry nodded to her, "go get me and make me go outside and face the wizards. I'm going to lead them away from the inn. Then go back and wake Snape up. We'll sneak out and get out of here by the car."
"But the, er, You in the woods?" Draco blinked.
"I survive because I'm here," Harry said. "We'll all get into the car and go somewhere."
They all moved at once. Draco herded Luna out while Hermione ran for the stairs. Ron threw down money for the food, and then he dashed out of the back door.
Harry leaned against the wall to wait. A few minutes later, the first him (original him? him that had stayed at the inn?) ran down the steps in the clothes that Harry would be stuck in for the longest day of his life.
Hermione ran back into the dining room, eyes huge. "You told me to take care of Snape, but Harry, there's dozens of people outside – dozens! And McGonagall and Ron's dad –"
"Dad's here?" Ron said from the doorway. "Oh, blimey, I'm going to Akzaban at this rate."
"Ron!" Harry cut through his worry.
"Right, I got the car outside."
"You two get in it," Harry directed, pulling out his Cloak. "I'm going upstairs to wake Snape. We'll meet you out there as soon as I can get him out the door. If you run into anyone at all, stun them."
Ron's face drained of color, but Hermione nodded with resolution.
Slinging on the Cloak, Harry ran upstairs and turned the light on. Snape was fast asleep, but Harry shook his shoulder, and the man came awake instantly.
"We have to leave," Harry said. He grabbed some of Snape's clothes and pulled the man up to a sitting position. "Put your shoes on. You can dress later."
Snape blinked. "I'm so tired."
"I'm sure you are," Harry thrust the shoes at him, and Snape clumsily put them on. "Walk with me. Stay quiet. We're going to hide under this Cloak."
He put the Cloak over them, brushing against Snape's still damp hair. Though for Harry it had been dozens of hours ago, in real time, Soulless Snape had had a shower and gone to bed about ten minutes ago.
"You smell bad," Snape whispered as they went down the stairs.
"I haven't washed in about four days," Harry hissed back. "And quiet!"
Outside, the car was hidden behind a bush, but Harry could hear the loud commotion in the front of the inn. Ron was standing out beside the car with Harry's broom in hand.
"Give me the Cloak," Ron held out his hand as Harry took it off him and Snape. "I'm going to fly behind the car on your broom. Make the car go invisible once you get high enough."
Harry didn't stop to ask why Ron was telling him that as Hermione was in the driver's seat and Draco and Luna were in the back. As Harry put Snape in the back, he said, "Let me fly and you ride."
"No," Ron grabbed the Cloak, "you have to stay with Snape and Luna. That's the important thing. If I get caught, oh, well."
Harry rounded the car to get into the passenger seat.
Mr. Weasley was lying on the ground, frozen with his hand out, his expression one of dismay.
Ron heard Harry's gasp.
"I stunned my father for you," Ron swung onto the broom. He looked older than ever with a fierce expression and the long scar on the side of his face. "Don't ever question how far into hell I'm willing to follow you. Get in the car."
Harry obeyed, shaking as he closed the door. Hermione maneuvered the car into gear (when had she learned to drive?) and they drifted towards the sky. She pushed the invisibility button and the car disappeared along with Harry's body. Below Mr. Weasley faded into darkness, but flashes of spells lit up sections of the woods, almost like min-fireworks.
"I'm not here," Snape said blankly. "Am I a ghost?"
"No, this is just a bad dream," Harry answered as the car caught speed and angled up into the clouds. "Go back to sleep."
"Everyone is going to sleep," Hermione's voice came out of the emptiness. "Once we get above the clouds, I'll turn the sight back on. We'll stay in the sky, above the clouds until morning."
"But Ron?"
"We'll go slow enough that Ron can land on the roof and fly with us."
"Like a magic carpet ride," Harry muttered as he closed his eyes. With the feel of the seat below him, it wasn't as scary with his eyes closed.
"Hmm," Hermione's voice had a small smile in it. "That was the last Muggle movie my parents took me to see. It seems like ages ago, before I understood real magic."
He didn't respond. Hermione's sweet dentist parents seemed like another lifetime ago.
"You can keep talking to me with your eyes closed," she said in a low voice. "Draco and I can hear, but maybe Luna and Snape can sleep. Tell me what happened since you ran out of the inn."
In a low tone, Harry recounted his movements since finding the timeturner. Draco and Hermione both asked quiet questions, but low snores came from the other two.
"And so," Harry finished up his story, "I came back to you lot. But now the timeturner has been reported missing and I can't use it without alerting them."
"You can't use it casually," Hermione corrected. "If at the last minute, we need someone to move in time immediately, you can use it one last time. If the consequence is being marked in time, you still have a few seconds to jump around before they catch you. They'll be following the marker through time with their own timeturners."
"That makes sense," Harry agreed. It figured that she would know the most about timeturners after having owned one for a whole school year.
"Hermione should have the timeturner," Draco said abruptly.
"He's right," she said. "If it's marked, but I have it, I can still find you without drawing too much attention. When we land, give it to me."
Harry opened his mouth to say no, but he paused before saying, "You're saying we should all take some kind of responsibility for the team? That makes sense. If my magic's the strongest right now or my luck or whatever it is, it makes sense that all of you have the objects of protection. If Ron has my broom and Hermione you have the timeturner, Draco, you should get the Cloak when Ron's done with it. Even if they get me, the rest of you will have enough to get on for a moment."
"When we land, we'll sort out the items," she said, but he could hear the pride in her voice edging through.
"Head us to London," Harry relaxed in his seat, willing his body to rest. "We need to be there by six. Gringotts opens at nine, and I'm going in there to take 500 Galleons out of my vault."
"What?" Draco and Hermione hissed.
"Don't worry," Harry took a deep breath, drawing himself further into sleep. "Like always, I have a plan."