~Past and Future~

Albus Dumbledore was having a reasonably good day. The students had arrived back from their holiday the previous morning, without incident. He was holding in his hands a letter from one, Remus Lupin, containing the man's agreement to take on the post of Defense Professor for the remainder of the school year. In addition, thanks to some delicate and masterful persuasion, Horace Slughorn was busy settling into his new office in the dungeons.

It was a tragedy that he'd lost Severus, and Dumbledore considered it a personal failure that the man had not had a chance to fully redeem himself, but it did not require Dumbledore to adjust his plans all that much.

Dumbledore folded up the letter from Remus and began on the appropriate paperwork. He was about half finished when the enchantments of his office alerted him to the presence of an unrecognized person throwing rapidly-guessed passwords at his gargoyle. Curious, Dumbledore sent the mental command to the guardian to make it step aside.

Moments later, his office door slammed open and a little girl with Weasley hair and a canvas satchel barged into the room. A flicker of his surprise slipped into his expression before he managed to put on a kind smile.

Unless he was very much mistaken, the child marching up to his desk was indeed the youngest Weasley, Ginevra, whom young Harry had been corrisponding with. What she was doing at Hogwarts when he was fairly sure she wasn't old enough to have gotten her letter yet, was more of a mystery. And how had the girl gotten to the castle at all? That showed an intriguing resourcefulness all by itself.

It went without saying that Molly, bless her heart, would be livid that her daughter had gone on such an excursion. Young Ginny looked quite determined, though, whatever her purpose was. Perhaps it would be be best to humor the poor girl.

"This is quite a surprise," Dumbledore said. "What brings you here, Miss Weasley?"

"Everything, Professor," Ginny stated, notably unintimidated. "Starting with these."

The girl pulled open her satchel and upended it over Dumbledore's desk. Three items tumbled out onto his paperwork, all looking as though they'd spent a rather long while in a fire. There was a blackened book-cover with most of its pages burnt away, what looked like a melted ring, and a charred locket the size of an egg.

"Oh? What might these be?" Dumbledore asked bemusedly.

In response, Ginevra Weasley pushed open the book-cover, presenting a thoroughly shocking inscription. "These are what's left of Voldemort's horcruxes."

Ginny pushed herself up off the grass and adjusted the weight of her satchel, the dead horcruxes shifting within. A trio of Gringotts owls swooped down towards Sirius, as he carefully prodded The Package with his wand.

"How long are you setting the timer for?" Ginny asked.

"As long as it can be set," Sirius said. "Twelve hours, I think."

Ginny nodded. "Knowing our luck, any less and it'd go off before it even got put in the vault."

Sirius chuckled weakly, pocketing his wand. Ginny helped him tie The Package onto the three owls. Working together, the owls heaved the heavy wrapped box up into the air and flew off towards London, carrying her one shot at destroying the cup horcrux. Ginny resisted an insane urge to salute the departing owls.

"Right," Sirius said. "I'm gonna go get drunk and pray this crazy scheme works, not necessarily in that order. When exactly are you planning to go rock Dumbledore's world?"

Ginny snorted and glanced at Sirius' watch. "Just about now, actually. The students should all be busy eating lunch by the time I get there."

"Are you going to tell him about, well, me?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I think I'll wait and see how he takes the whole I'm-from-the-future thing, first. Maybe drop a hint."

"Right, well, good luck," Sirius said, mussing Ginny's hair and then disapparating with a laugh before she had time to hex him in retaliation.

Ginny chuckled to herself as she turned on the spot and disapparated. A moment later, she burst from the crushing darkness and smashed hard into something solid and wooden with the top of her head. Her eyes crossed and her vision blacked out for a moment as she hissed in pain.

So her aim was less than perfect apparating into a small confined space from dozens of miles away. It was better than setting off the intruder alarm in Honeyduke's again. Ginny clutched at the top of her head to make sure her skull was still in one piece. Her hand came away with spots of blood on it.

"Oh, brilliant," Ginny fumed, putting her wand to the crown of her head and intoning, "Exuviate!"

This was followed by an, "Aguamenti!" and a drying charm to get the blood out of her hair. The result was far from perfect and her skull still throbbed, but at least she didn't look like she'd just been clubbed in the head.

Ginny adjusted her satchel and started jogging down the secret passage towards Hogwarts. Minutes later, she reached the one-eyed witch and slipped into the castle proper. Ginny glanced around, confirming that she was alone in the corridor, and set off quickly for the headmaster's office.

She reached the gargoyle without incident and started rapidly guessing passwords. "Chocolate Frogs? Snickers? Pumpkin Pasty? Kit kat? Sherbert Lemon? Cockroach cluster? Acid pop? Twinkie? Funio - "

Ginny cut off as the gargoyle jerked to life and stepped aside. She strode passed, leaping up the stairs two at a time, reaching the top before the spiral had even started moving. She pushed the door open without slowing and strode up to the headmaster's desk, relieved to find the old Professor present.

"This is quite a surprise. What brings you here, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

Ginny dumped the contents of her satchel on his desk. "Everything, Professor. Starting with these."

"Oh?" Dumbledore remarked, peering at the three husks. "What might these be?"

Deciding it would be best to reveal it directly, Ginny reached for the destroyed diary. She flipped the cover open and showed Dumbledore the inscription. T. M. Riddle. Dumbledore's eyes flew wide.

"These are what's left of Voldemort's material horcruxes," Ginny said.

Dumbledore was silent with an expression of genuine surprise on his face for almost a minute. Suddenly, he pulled his wand out and started waving it in precise motions over the three husks.

"There were two more than these," Ginny added after the silence had stretched. "The diadem of Ravenclaw and the cup of Hufflepuff, but I don't have their remnants. And one more than those, which is intact in Harry's scar."

Dumbledore blinked and looked up, still appearing mildly shocked. "Perhaps you had best explain how you came to identify and aquire these items, Miss Weasley, if that is indeed who you are and not a guise."

"I am Ginny Weasley, Professor. But Ginny Weasley with all of the memories and skills I possessed at seventeen years of age," she explained. "I'm from the future."

Dumbledore peered at her intently over his half-moon spectacles. "Ah. This wouldn't have anything to do with the unfortunate distruction of a certain seventh-floor corridor, would it?"

"Well, actually," Ginny admitted, trailing off.

Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully for almost a full minute. "Might I ask how you managed to perform a Temporal Traversion at only seventeen years of age?"

"You believe me?" Ginny exclaimed. "Just like that?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said with a slight smile, gesturing at the burnt remnants. "These objects were indeed once Horcruxes. Given that you are aware of that term at all, and that while I am fairly certain these objects were purged with Fiendfyre I've yet to recieve any reports of Ottery St. Catchpole burning to ash, it seems wise to take your story seriously."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. "Well, to answer your question, I don't even know what a Temporal Traversion is. I have no idea how I came back, but I know when, and I'm fairly certain it was the Come & Go Room that sent me back, but I'm only guessing about that too."

"I see," Dumbledore said, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "Am I to assume the destruction at the beginning of the school year coincided with your soul rejoining the timestream?"

"Er, if you mean if that was when I arrived, then yes as near as I can tell," Ginny said with a slight wince. "Do you know why the Room exploded, Sir? I can't imagine that I'm the first person to cry out for a lost loved one in the presence of the Room. It's been around for a thousand years. Lucky, though. The explosion destroyed one of the horcruxes and I didn't even have to do anything."

"A horcrux was present in the Room when your own soul passed through it?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

Ginny blinked at the sudden change in tone. "Yeah, the diadem. Ravenclaw's diadem."

After a short silence, Dumbledore sat back and smiled. "That alone may explain the destruction. You see, there are only two ways by which one may time travel. One may travel in Time as physical matter, or one may travel across Time as energy, mind and soul. In the latter case, the traveler passes outside of Time, and I suspect that for the Room to recieve you, it too must have stretched itself partially out of Time."

So... you're saying that moving outside of Time causes horcruxes to explode?" Ginny guessed. "The room would have been fine if there hadn't been a horcrux in it?"

"That is my suspicion, yes," Dumbledore said. "A horcrux remains connected to the soul that created it, but that connection, by its nature, could not extend beyond Time. I would postulate that when the Room shifted to transfer you across two Times, the connection was cut and the soul fragment dissolved, which in turn caused the enchantments to collapse and discharge."

A sudden hope bloomed in Ginny's chest. "Does that mean Harry's scar would be destroyed if we somehow shifted him outside of Time? There aren't any enchantments on his scar, so it shouldn't hurt him at all!"

"Alas, it is a clever thought," Dumbledore said with a sad smile. "Unfortunately, whatever magic it was that gave the Room power over Time has since been lost to the ages. Such a feat is beyond the capabilities of any living wizard or witch."

Ginny visibly wilted. "Damn."

Dumbledore peered at her for a long moment. "You spoke of crying out for a lost loved one as causing the Room to send you back. May I ask, who did you lose?"

"Can't you guess?" Ginny answered quietly, briefly shutting her eyes.

A shadow passed over Dumbledore's face. "It was Harry, wasn't it."

Ginny nodded. "Yes."

"What happened? What went wrong?" Dumbledore asked, gently dismayed.

"Harry died," Ginny said archly, before frowning. "I don't really know, Professor. I didn't know the plan. I didn't even know about the horcruxes until Hermione Granger filled me in after it was all over."

"After it was over?" Dumbledore asked with a note of trepidation.

Ginny sighed. "We did win. Harry sacrificed himself for us, and it gave us protection, somehow. Enemy curses would just bounce off of us without doing anything. When we saw Harry's body - " Ginny forced down the lump that had risen in her throat. "When we saw Harry's body and Voldemort started taunting us with it, I went insane with rage, and everybody else wasn't very far behind me. We didn't even realize we were invulnerable at first. I killed more than a dozen Death Eaters, and Neville Longbottom split Voldemort's head in half with the Sword of Gryffindor. Once Voldemort was dead, the protection stopped working, but by then there were only a few scattered Death Eaters still standing."

"Harry gave himself up?" Dumbledore whispered. "Why?"

"I don't know why," Ginny growled. "Voldemort offered to spare us if Harry handed himself over. Maybe just the slim chance he would keep his word was enough to make Harry do it. Maybe he knew what would happen when Voldemort tried to go back on the deal. Maybe he knew about the horcrux in his scar and was planing on dieing anyway. I don't know. I was hoping you would have some idea."

Dumbledore sank in on himself a little, looking very old, suddenly. After a moment, though, he sat up abruptly.

"How did Voldemort return to a body?" he asked. "Do you know?"

Ginny nodded. "It was the end of Harry's fourth year. Harry was abducted and taken to Little Hangleton. Voldemort already had a homunculus body and then there was a ritual. Bone of the father, unknowingly given. Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."

"He used Harry's blood? You're sure?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "Harry was pretty clear on that point."

Dumbledore sat back, looking stunned. A moment later he stood up and started pacing behind his desk. If Ginny didn't know better, she would have thought he'd completely forgotten she was still in the room.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, with some worry.

"It appears you may have saved me from a grevious error, Miss Weasley," Dumbldedore said. "You see, I must have comcluded that in incorporating Harry's blood in his body, Voldemort would inadvertently form a recursive bond wrought from the protection of Lily Potter's sacrifice. This would have the dual effect of allowing Voldemort's magic through Lily's protection, making it possible for him to strike the blow that would destroy the horcrux in Harry, while simultaneously tying Harry to his own life, allowing Harry to survive that strike so long as it came from Voldemort's hand. Such is indicated in my research, but if what you say is true, my figuring must be critically incorrect."

"Wait, are you saying that Harry thought he would survive, and that's why he gave himself to Voldemort?" Ginny exclaimed.

Dumbledore stopped pacing and shook his head. "No, I would think not. If he had expected to survive, his sacrifice could never have conveyed a protection unto others as you say it did. However... do you know how your Harry was killed?"

"Killing curse," Ginny said. "How else?"

"And given that the protection encompassed the whole of Voldemort's forces, it had to have been Voldemort himself who struck the killing blow," Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully.

The old man let out a tired sigh and sank into his chair. Ginny, who had been standing before the great oaken desk the whole time, stepped sideways and dropped herself into a guest chair.

"Were there no other possible ways to neutralize Harry's scar?" Ginny finally asked.

"None to my knowledge, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said. "At least, none that do not pose an unacceptable risk to Harry."

Ginny's fists clenched. "No. There must be some way."

"I have not given up, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said with a sympathetic smile. "I have only just begun to look for solutions to our problem. It was only the events of two months ago which gave me the clue that led me to guess that Harry's scar was a horcrux in the first place."

Ginny blinked. "You mean, when Harry took another killing curse to save Hermione?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Additionally, thanks to your own efforts, I will no longer need to spend a considerable amount of time convincing the returning Professor Slughorn to give up memories of his conversations with the young Tom Riddle. I suspect we are rather ahead of the game."

Ginny nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I don't think you figured any of this out last time until Harry's fifth or sixth year, long after Voldemort had already returned."

Dumbledore twinkled at her. "So, there is hope. Do not fret."

"Right," Ginny said dryly. "In the mean time, we need to make sure Voldemort is not found by any of his people. Even allowing him to get as far as a rudimentary homunculus is more than we can afford, since even that is enough for him to be able to create additional horcruxes we won't know about. Little Hangleton needs to be watched, at the very least."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will arrange it. It may prove prudent to reform the Order of the Pheonix in full, in fact."

Ginny stood. "Right. Oh, by the way, there's something else you should do as soon as possible."

"What would that be, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

"Get some Veretiserum, and go to Sirius Black's cell in Azkaban," Ginny said. "Use it on the man you find there, and ask about the night Harry's parents died."

A brief flicker of surprise flashed across Dumbledore face, followed by a slight frown. "I will do so, this very day."

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said. "I'd better get home now."

That evening, as Ginny sat in the Burrow pretending to read an issue of Quidditch Review Quarterly, with Sirius curled up as a dog and snoring on the sofa next to her, she caught a flash of silver in the corner of her eyes. Ginny glanced up and looked around the sitting room, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. A low fire burned in the hearth and her mum sat in her favorite arm chair, sipping tea and reading the Daily Prophet.

Again she saw the glimmer of silver, but every time she turned, there was nothing there. Then she had to resist the urge to smack herself as she realized what it had to be. Unobtrusively as she could, Ginny got up and climbed the stairs to her room. As soon as she shut the door, the shimmering ethereal pheonix soared into view, filling her room with its brilliant silver light.

"I have spoken with the occupant of Sirius Black's prison cell, in the manner you recommended," came Dumbledore's voice. "I am deeply desturbed by what I have learned, and will endevor to correct this terrible misjustice, though forcing the Ministry to admit to such a large mistake will not be a simple matter. In the mean time, I approve of your own rash-yet-effective provisional solution. Well done. I will be in touch."

Message delivered, the luminous patronus let out a soft trill and faded away. Ginny let out a long sigh of relief, resting her head against the closed door. Another worry vanquished. She pulled the door open and went to wake Sirius.

Peter Pettigrew was not having a good day. For that matter, he wasn't having a good - well, he didn't actually know how long he'd been in this place of never-ending torment. Azkaban. He was in Azkaban.

It was something he should have realized moments after waking all that time ago, but with the Dementor's chill clouding his thoughts, Peter had been little more than an incoherent ball of huddled misery.

But then, one day, the chill had receeded, and he'd felt hands upon him and a liquid poured on his tongue, and an entirely different sort of daze came over his mind. And when it was over, he realized he'd spilled the secret he'd spent ten years as a rat to keep; his betrayal, his ultimate shame, his acquiescence to the darkness.

Sheer panic kept Peter lucid long enough after the ancient wizard left for a desperate plan to take form. He couldn't fathom what had happened to land him in this predicament in the first place. As far as he could recall, he'd gone to sleep in a tangle of Ron's sheets as always, and the next thing he knew he was waking up in the thrall of the Dementors. However it happened, however he ended up here, that didn't matter right now. Peter had to get out, to survive, before his only chance was taken from him.

The change came sluggishly, but come it did. Miraculously, the headmaster had not once asked him, "Are you an animagus?" and though his other questions skirted nerve-wrackingly close to the subject, even without lying Peter had managed to keep that one, most useful of his secrets. The floor rushed up at him as his familiar brown snout pushed out into his field of vision.

Peter rushed out between the bars of his cell and began the long - for a rat - journey up to the Auror quarters. It was risky and more daring than he normally had stomach for, but the only way he was getting off this island was with a wand. And with - as reluctant as Peter was to free them - some help from his unfortunate collegues.

Even with his rat body between him and the effects of the dementors, by the time Peter reached the top level he was shivering. The warmth maintained by several of the Aurors' patronuses hit him like a wall as he slipped inside the barracks.

Peter skittered sideways as a foot came down perilously close by. He hugged the shadows, moving parallel to the falls of those heavy boots as their owner went through a pair of heavy double doors. Peter heard a low murmur of conversation that he couldn't make out and turned the other way. The only way he might not be caught was if he found one alone.

The barracks stretched all along the top of the prison's south wall, but only a small set of rooms at the east end were in use by the Aurors. Less area for their patronuses to cover, Peter figured. He hunkered down in a dim corner just outside the room with all the bored-sounding voices, and waited.

The first Auror to step out had his wand in his hand and a badger patronus following him on his way to what Peter thought was the bathroom. An hour later, the second Auror to emerge crossed into a small private office, without a patronus, but Peter didn't follow that one either - he looked far too burly and wary. Peter didn't like his odds on being able to overpower the grizzled old man.

Almost another hour went by before Peter finally saw his chance. The young man walked passed Peter's hiding place while stifling a yawn, and he didn't have his wand out either. Peter followed him cautiously and nealy collapsed with relief when the young Auror went into another small office and sat heavily at the desk.

Slipping in on the Auror's heels, Peter hugged the baseboard as he snuck around behind the surprisingly-muggle office chair. The Auror drew his wand and lit a small lamp sitting at the corner of the desk. He set the wand down next to him and turned to a low stack of paperwork.

Peter saw his chance. In one quick motion, he transformed and wrapped his human arms around the Auror's head. He wrenched sideways with all his strength and almost collapsed with relief when he heard the telltale snap of the man's neck.

He lowered the dead Auror to the floor carefully and snatched the man's wand from the desk. His hands were shaking so badly he almost dropped it. Peter didn't even want to think about what could have happened if he hadn't managed to break the Auror's neck on his first try.

But he had a wand now. That would make all the difference.