Harry stared at the food in front of him, the currently unappetizing scents making him feel nauseous. He lowered his head into his arms, wishing that he were not in the great hall, but rather tucked in and sleeping in his cozy bed. He heard the sound of someone dumping their book bag on the ground, and collapsing on the bench beside him, but he found he didn't have the energy to look up at the newcomer.
"Morning Harry," the familiar voice asked, and Harry found the resolve to tilt his head, and open a single bleary eye. He spied a waterfall of fiery hair blocking his vision, reinforcing his earlier assumption.
"Morning Ginny," Harry groaned.
"You alright?" She asked, her chocolate eyes flashing with concern.
"Let's just call it a stomach ache and leave it at that," Harry grumbled before burying his head back in his arms. He was like that for several minutes until he felt a cool porcelain dish push against his arms. He glanced up, instantly feeling nauseous again as he stared at a plate of eggs and bacon.
"Eat up," Ginny mothered, "you won't survive the day if you don't eat breakfast."
"Just leave me alone," Harry muttered, but he nonetheless straightened up, grabbed a piece of toast and began nibbling on the edge. Now that he was sitting up properly, Ginny's face grew concerned, as Harry realized she could probably now see the dark rings weighing down his eyes. His hair was a mess too, even more hazardous and unkempt then usual.
"You sure you're alright?" She asked again.
"I'm fine. I just can't believe those bloody idiots drunk that much. They're adults, for goodness sake," Harry growled, "Hagrid, I can understand drinking a whole keg, but Padfoot and Prongs…" Harry's voice trailed off as he remembered last night, and Sirius's 'great' idea for a drinking contest. Harry could hear Ginny muttering about boys and their idiotic drinking activities, until she suddenly stopped as if hit with an epiphany.
"You were with your father last night?" Ginny exclaimed, rather loudly, and Harry quickly shushed her, glancing around the table, hoping no one had over heard here. James had made it incredibly clear that no one, specifically Dumbledore, was to know of their meeting.
"I'll talk to you about it later," Harry whispered, "Just please don't tell anyone, and whatever you do, don't look into Dumbledore's eyes." Ginny raised her eyebrows in skepticism, but eventually nodded.
"How'd you know about Prongs?" Harry asked.
"I overheard Ryan telling Fred and George during a summer when they were talking about the Marauder's map." Ginny explained, causing Harry to nod his head in understanding. James and Sirius had indeed bragged about that map to him last night.
"Anyway, I didn't cast you as one for drinking," Ginny asked, sounding slightly disappointed. Harry sighed. He hadn't exactly cast him as a drinker either. James and Sirius had seen otherwise though, and hadn't taken no for an answer.
Harry was about to refute her observation, when suddenly the owl post arrived. The billowing, choppy wind concocted of hundreds of wings, mixed with the feeble, encompassing hooting made practically any conversation impossible as countless owls swooped into the great hall. People could be heard groaning as the owls crashed into their breakfasts and knocked over the goblets of juice and beakers of water. The only one in the room who looked happy that the owls had arrived was a rustic firefox, who stuck his head out of Harry's hood, and began yapping excitedly. A tawny owl dropped a rolled up newspaper on Ginny's lap, clicking its beak impatiently as it waited for its payment. It grew even more impatient when Chrome leapt off of Harry's shoulders, and began scrambling across the table, chasing the frantically hopping, terrified owl.
Harry watched Ginny reach into her pockets, and grimace when she only pulled out three knuts, three short of the payment. Feeling bad for the girl, Harry reached into his pocket, but not having any knuts on hand, had to console the bird with a whole silver sickle. Not expecting the bird to understand the concept of change, Harry sighed at the lost money, and his now, grossly over charged, magical newspaper. The good news was that Chrome was still giving the owl hell. The blue eyed fox had somehow managed to cough up a spout of flames that had singed the owl's tail wings, who was now making a chaotic get away, crashing into other retreating owls.
"You didn't have to do that," Ginny snapped at Harry.
"Well you didn't have enough for the paper, what was I supposed to do," Harry asked, rather surprised at her hostility. Ginny flushed red in embarrassment and pushed the measly knuts towards him.
"I'll pay you the other half next week," Ginny muttered, staring at her lap.
"What are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed, "I paid for the paper, it's mine, not yours now. You don't have to pay me anything." Without waiting for a response Harry pushed the knuts back towards her, pulled open the newspaper with a snap and read the headlines. He noticed that Ginny still seemed disgruntled with the deal as she slid the bronze coins into her pocket.
"St. Mungo's burnt to the ground in dark terrorist attack," Harry read, "Minster Fudge proclaims that evidence suggests escaped convict Sirius Black is the mastermind." Harry threw the paper on the table in disgust. It was obviously not his Godfather who had burned down the only medical institution in Great Britain. The Minster of Magic was obviously an idiot.
Ginny gingerly picked up the newspaper, wiped the remnants of honey and butter off of the front page, and read the rest of the article silently. With nothing left to distract himself, Harry glanced around the table, looking for his other friends. He noticed the rest of the Gryffindor's were all looking noticeably somber as the Prophet's headlines made its way across the students. Ron, Ryan and Hermione appeared to be in a vehement, whispered discussion, and Neville… well, Neville was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey Ginny, you haven't seen Neville this morning, have you?" Harry asked. He frowned when he didn't receive a response, and he asked again, this time rapping the newspaper that was blocking her from view with his fist. When she pulled the paper down, Harry was shocked to see her face pale, her freckles standing out prominently.
Are you all right?" Harry asked, repeating the question she asked him earlier.
"I'm fine, it's just the article…" Ginny seemed incredibly shocked about the attack.
"I know, it's terrible," Harry agreed, but Ginny shook her head.
"No, it's not that it's," she paused, hesitating to tell Harry. "It's nothing. What were you asking?"
Harry frowned at her, but didn't push. It was her right to have secrets after all. "Have you seen Neville this morning?"
"I did actually," Ginny replied, looking up from the paper, "I was up early, couldn't sleep properly, and heard McGonagall come into the common room looking for him. Don't know what it was about, but she looked pretty distraught."
"Right," Harry said, distracted. He hoped Neville was all right. McGonagall was up at the head table, so he obviously wasn't still with the head of house. Chrome was still prowling along the table, scavenging for scraps of food. Ginny held out a folded up piece of toast to the teenage fox, who eagerly snapped it up.
"I'm going to class now Harry," Ginny said quickly, folding up the newspaper and slipping it in her book bag. "I'll see you at lunch?"
"Yeah, sure," he replied, but she was already running off. Harry sighed, wondering what was bothering her. His musing was interrupted when Chrome began hacking violently. Harry frowned at the rustic fox, who eventually coughed up the piece of toast Ginny had given him, along with three, bronze knuts that were hidden within.
"She really wanted me to keep the money, didn't she Chrome," Harry asked his familiar, who simply gave him a baleful stare, as if blaming him for ruining his breakfast. Harry noticed Chrome staring down at his plate of food, piled with heaps of bacon and several eggs, all that was untouched, excluding a half nibbled slice of toast.
"Go ahead," Harry motioned, "But we're leaving in two minutes for Defence Against the Dark Arts."
It only took the hungry fox thirty seconds.
After breakfast Harry made his way to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he would have arrived on time if it were not for his brother's antics. Professor Lupin's classroom was on the second floor, but as Harry walked up the first flight of stairs, he spotted the familiar, raven hair that could only belong to someone in the Potter family. What was most curious was that Ryan, for with that hair it could only have been Ryan, was sprinting in the opposite direction of Harry.
Wondering what his brother was getting up to now, Harry decided to take chase. His feet pounded against the empty corridor as he chased after Ryan, who had just slipped around a corner. Harry followed close behind, his black school robes billowing around him awkwardly. He would have been able to run faster without the cumbersome robes, but on schooldays such clothing was compulsory, and currently a hindrance.
Harry chased his brother around several, sharp bending corridors, well aware that classes had begun by this point, but he was growing irritated that he hadn't gained any ground on his brother. Harry was the physically fitter brother, as Ryan had focused on Quidditch, and Harry on long distance running and weights, so the fact that Ryan could outrun him was infuriating.
Suddenly, Harry barreled around a corner, his shoes slipping slightly on the smooth floor, polished to perfection by none other than Flich, and stared down the corridor devoid of human life. The corridor was empty, excluding a single suit of armour, standing proudly at attention, several chattering portraits, and various closed windows that allowed for a wondrous view of the Great Lake.
Harry swore, wondering where his brother had gone, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to find him. Harry grudgingly turned around and began making his way back to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Despite being already late, James and Sirius had told Harry last night to partake in this class in particular. They wouldn't explain why, but Harry trusted them, admittedly, Sirius more than James.
Actually, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that he trusted neither Sirius nor James. Knowing Sirius, Harry was probably walking into a sex ed class.
Either way, Harry found himself outside the classroom door, and after a moments hesitation, he pushed the heavy wooden door open, budging it with his shoulder. He stepped into the classroom, and lowered his head in apology to Professor Lupin, who had paused in his lecture to stare at Harry. Lupin opened his mouth to say something, but Harry suddenly spotted an all too familiar mop of raven hair in the classroom.
"Ryan!" Harry shouted loudly, "How the hell did you get here?" Ryan stared at him, half amused, half irritated.
"I got here on time, that's how," Ryan explained slowly, as if talking to a three year old.
"But I saw you outside just a minute ago," Harry exclaimed. By now the class was looking at Harry like he was crazy. Before Ryan could reply, Professor Lupin cleared his throat.
"Ryan has been here all class harry," he said, not harshly, but neither kindly. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Lupin cut him off, "You'll see me after class to talk about both your tardiness and your attitude towards your fellow students."
Harry was too confused to argue, so he meekly sat down at a free desk. He didn't even pretend to listen as Lupin began his lecture once again. The rest of the class scribbled down notes, and later began experimenting with wand movements, but Harry found he couldn't care less. At Lupin's questioning gaze, Harry attempted the spell once, but after setting his desk alight, Lupin left him alone.
All too soon class ended, and Harry's mysteries were unsolved. He was called up by Lupin, who continued to look at him with a mask of indifference. That was, until the last student had left the class, and the door was closed with a slam. As if the loud noise has snapped the ragged looking man out of a stupor, a large, wolfy smile slid across his face.
"Although I was initially disappointed I couldn't join Padfoot and Prongs for some midnight drinking last night, looking at your face, I'm rather glad I had some essays that needed marking," Lupin said, mirth sparkling in his eyes. "I daresay you would feel much better after some hangover potion. In fact, I think I might have some laying around here…" Lupin began rummaging around his desk, searching for particular objects that he was throwing in a worn, satchel bag,
"I- Some what?" Harry asked, confused as to the man's sudden change of personality.
"Hangover potion, does the exact opposite of what it sounds like it does. I have no doubt that Padfoot and Prongs have taken them, but I also have no doubt that after the shouting their beloveds will give them, they'll still have a raging headache."
"I'm sorry professor, but what's going on?" Harry asked. The events from last night, and the mystery of his brother, and now Lupin's peculiarities were causing a throbbing headache.
"Aha, here, drink this, and then I'll explain," Lupin said, sliding a bottled, clear potion across the desk. Harry uncorked the potion, and gave it an experimental sniff before downing it. It tasted of mint, and made him gag, just as if one swallowed their toothpaste, yet moments later he was feeling incredibly clear headed.
"Thanks for that, I'm feeling much better now," Harry admitted, "But can you explain what's going on now?" Lupin pulled out an old, battered wind up watch, and frowned when he saw the time.
"Ah, ten thirty, that's no good, we're running out of time, my next class starts in five minutes." As if to reinforce his verbal thinking, the wooden door thudded soundly as a student tried to push his way in, but Lupin had earlier locked it.
"You said you'd explain!" Harry exclaimed. Harry was beginning to recover his lost headache, and he imagined he imagined that he was beginning to feel like his father and godfather after their women had shouted at them.
"And so I did," Lupin agreed, "And so what do we need?"
"More time," Harry grumbled.
"Exactly," Lupin said, rather too brightly for Harry's liking. Before he could protest, Lupin grabbed Harry's shoulder, and dragged him over to his office, which was connected to the classroom. With Lupin incredibly close beside him, the ragged professor slipped a necklace over both their necks.
Watching his Professor spin a beautifully crafted golden hourglass upside down twice, Harry tired to ask what he was doing, but the next moment he felt the world around him vibrate. Harry didn't quite understand what was going on, but he could tell by the rapidly shifting sunlight shining through the single window in the office that something very peculiar was happening.
As soon as the experience began it was over, and Harry felt himself breathing heavily. He stared around the office, but it was completely undisturbed as from before the strange, vibrating experience. The only difference was the amount of sunlight streaming through the window and…
"Ah, eight thirty, perfect," Lupin muttered, hastily stowing his wind up watch away.
"Professor, you cannot seriously tell me that we just travelled back in time," Harry asked, his voice full of disbelief.
"Come now Harry, I thought you were the one traversing around the school claiming that magic could do anything," Lupin said in amusement, clearly enjoying teasing his student.
"But- but this is time itself we're talking about here," Harry spluttered.
"Indeed, surely after space dimension travelling, you're not still surprised," Lupin said, smiling gently.
"You're talking about apparation, right?" Lupin nodded. "Bloody hell. Time travel, space travel, next you'll be telling that you actually know the Doctor's identity, and that it's Merlin."
"I can assure you Harry, time turners did not exist in Merlin's time," Lupin said, his friendly persona slipping as he became the professor Harry knew.
"Great, so Merlin came from the future then," Harry muttered irately. Lupin looked to be about to respond but Harry cut him off. "This isn't the point, none of this is relevant. You said you were going to explain what was going on before we ran out of time, care to continue?"
"We're still short on time, according to my watch, in two minutes I'm going to enter the classroom from breakfast. We should really get moving," Lupin explained, before hurriedly rushing out of the office.
"Wait, what's wrong if you see yourself?" Harry asked him.
"First, my past self doesn't know that I'm going to be time travelling, so my past self's first reaction would be an imposter in polyjuice potion, or Tonks playing a prank on me under the order of Padfoot. Either way, the results wouldn't be pretty," Lupin lectured.
"And second?"
"Second, well, my past self never saw my future self. Meaning that if I were to reveal myself to my past self, my past self would react differently, and he wouldn't use the time turner in quite the same way, meaning we shouldn't be existing as of now, and thus-"
"We would cease to exist," Harry deadpanned.
"Well, not 'we' necessarily. Another one of us would be most definitely alive and healthy, but the current us would indeed cease to exist." Harry was silent as he tried to take everything in.
"You don't happen to have another one of those hangover potions do you," Harry groaned, clutching his head, the headache growing even worse. Lupin chuckled softly, before dragging him out of the classroom and hiding behind a suit of armour, only moments before the past Lupin casually strolled past.
"The best thing is just to not worry about it," Lupin said compassionately, as he took off walking down a corridor towards the first floor, Harry following earnestly. "Because no matter how much you worry, if you mess things up, you won't even remember that you messed things up, considering the current you will just cease to exist. For all we know, this could have been the six millionth time we've gone through this process."
"You're not helping," Harry said, groaning. They finally descended the stairs to the first floor, just as Harry realized that the scene looked nostalgically familiar.
"Professor," Harry said warily.
"Considering we're breaking enough laws to send us to Azkaban right now, we're past the student-teacher relationship. Call me Remus."
"Wait, this is illegal," Harry said, blanching.
"With the amount of people that went mad after seeing themselves, of course it is," Lupin stated, seemingly unconcerned. Harry knew that he had been a Marauder, but he never realized that the group had cared so little about rules.
Suddenly, Lupin's statement about people seeing themselves caused Harry to realize why the first floor was feeling like deja vû.
"Remus, run!" Harry hissed, and he fortunately realized the importance, and launched himself into a sprint. Harry couldn't understand how anyone, magical or non magical, could run as fast as Remus currently did. Harry couldn't help but suspect there was some secret hidden within the ragged man.
Harry didn't have time to ponder though. He began chasing after Remus, who obviously knew where he was going, swearing as his robes hindered his running, just as they had the last time. He swerved around the corner, and in his peripherals he glanced his past self, struggling to run in the cumbersome school robes, chasing him. He had been right the first time; only a Potter could have such trademark raven hair. He had been wrong however about which Potter it was. Harry hadn't chased Ryan earlier; he had chased himself.
It now made sense why his past self couldn't seem to gain any ground on the raven haired man. It was because he had been racing himself, at the exact same speed. At the last corner, right before he was meant to disappear, Harry even felt his shoes slide on the exact same polished floor, bless Filch. Remus was standing beside the window, and Harry began panicking. They and only seconds to disappear before his past self hurtled around the corner, and Remus was casually standing beside a window.
Before Harry could complain however, Remus launched himself at the window, and Harry, expecting a loud crash and fragments of glass to litter the ground, ultimately changing the past and erasing his existence, stared in shock as Remus simply vanished.
Realizing he only had moments, Harry followed Remus's lead and threw himself at the window. He had expected some sort of resistance, but there was surprisingly nothing. He just passed through as if the window had never been there in the first place.
"Bloody hell, now I understand what you mean by time turners driving people insane," Harry groaned, slumping against a wall within the unlit room. "I had been going crazy during your class, trying to figure out how Ryan had been in two places at once. Turns out it was just me all along."
"Yes well, hopefully the next time you see your doppelganger running away from you, you won't chase it," Remus said, smiling gently, not even out of breath.
"Unless it actually turns out to be Ryan," Harry stated, "Or someone drinking polyjuice potion, or Tonks doing something sketchy."
"Hm, yes, well," Remus pondered this for a moment before sighing. "I guess it's going to be like this every time then." Harry stared at him suspiciously.
"What do you mean next time?"
"You haven't wondered why none of the teachers have been teaching you how to control your fire magic, have you?" Remus asked, his voice weary all of a sudden. He sat down in the unlit room, and gestured for Harry to sit down, a gesture Harry could barely see in the dimly lit room.
"Well, yeah, kind of," Harry admitted.
"It's because Dumbledore specifically stated that we were not to teach you anything outside of the Hogwart's curriculum. In particular he asked us to start with first year spells," Lupin explained, and Harry remembered the countless feather he had lit on fire during charms trying to master the basic wingardium leviosa charm.
"At the time I didn't think anything of it. I am greatly indebted to Albus Dumbledore, so oftentimes I acted on his orders without thinking. I doubt Sirius and James told you, as they do respect my need for privacy, but I am a werewolf. Albus made it possible for me to attend Hogwarts, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful."
"However, in the past two weeks I have learned some rather unsavory things about that man. The day after Kahlan repaired your parent's minds, they called for me, and explained what Albus had done to them."
"They felt it safe to tell you, even though they knew you were so close to Dumbledore?" Harry questioned suspiciously.
"I was surprised too. However, I had forgotten just how much James and Sirius valued out friendship. They had faith that I would listen to them. Once I realized that, I had no choice but to side with them." Even in the darkness, Harry could see Remus's smile. It was like years were taken off his face as he was reminded of his old school friends.
"More importantly, I am an expert in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and therefore skilled in Occlumency. They could tell me the information, and I would be able to keep it hidden from Albus. I wasn't happy with keeping information from Albus, and I'm still not, but for the sake of my old friends, I'm doing it."
"Alright, so my parents trust you, you trust them. What does that have to do with this," Harry growled out, confused.
"Quite simply, in place of the other teachers, and as of the request of your parents, I will teach you how to wield your fire magic," Remus exclaimed proudly.
"So why all this time travelling madness then?" Harry asked.
"Because as of right now, as far as anyone knows, I am currently teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts on the second floor, in a classroom containing twenty children, including you. This is the only way we can hide your training from Albus, as he has you under surveillance twenty-four seven. However, we just made your day twenty-six hours long, so we now have two hours when we know he's not watching us," Remus explained smugly. Harry reasoned that this was probably his idea.
"Couldn't I have just trained at night with Sirius? I met up with his last night just fine," Harry said, stating what seemed to be the obvious solution.
"The reason why it took two weeks for James and Lily to meet you was because we spent so long planning a way to distract Albus for a whole night. Trust me, that wasn't easy," Remus said with a smirk on his face.
"Fine, fine" Harry grumbled under his breath.
"Also, if you're practicing fire magic in the middle of the night on the Hogwart's grounds, someone's bound to notice just by looking out the window," Remus said, continuing to lecture, now in professor mode.
"Alright, I get it," Harry exclaimed, "I just don't like messing around with time. It makes me feel nervous."
"You're not wrong to be nervous, but we don't have many other options," Lupin admitted. "Now, we have spent enough of our precious time talking. Let's begin training," and with a flick of his fingers, several throbbing orbs of light flew out of his outstretched fingers towards several lanterns around the room.
"I managed to teach your brother the patronus charm in his third year. I have no doubts I'll be able to teach you to control your fire magic," Lupin proclaimed.
"So, what do I do?" Harry asked eagerly, standing up, wand drawn. Finally, after all those useless weeks in Hogwarts he was going to learn something.
"Survive," Lupin said grimly, before hurling a barrage of colourful curses at his best friend's son.
Neville stood on the streets of London, staring in desolation at the charred remains of the magical building that had once been a hospital. Now it more resembled a morgue. Ministry members were trying to control the scene, but it was a pressing job. The Muggle repelling charms had fallen when the building had collapsed, meaning wizards were obliviating Muggles left and right.
The magical civilians were no better either. The families of the five hundred dead patients and healers were huddled around the building, each family coping with the grief differently. The Ministry members were forced to subdue several wizards who broke past the restriction line, and tried to enter the wreckage, as if seeing the face of their dead loved one would solve their problems.
It wouldn't.
Neville knew this. He also knew there were no faces of their loves one's left in the hellish wreckage. Fiend fyre didn't leave bodies and faces. It left ashes. Neville didn't quite know why exactly he was here. For the past seven years of his life Neville had known that his parents were comatose and never to wake again. In a twisted kind of sense, Neville's parents were already dead to him.
That hadn't meant he hadn't loved them though. He had still visited them every holiday with his gran. He had still sat beside his father's bed, and told her stories of Hogwarts. He still waited expectantly for the candy wrapper that his mother so graciously gifted him with every meeting.
Even though they would never have their life back, Neville had loved them, and now because of some fucked up Death Eater attack they were dead. Oh, he had read the Prophet, and seen Fudge's allegations, but Neville wasn't that much of an idiot. He had heard enough stories from his gran to know what a Death Eater attack looked like, and barring the dark mark hovering ominously in the sky, the wreckage of St. Mungo's displayed all the signs.
Neville had always wanted to make his parents proud. He had heard such incredible stories about them, and it was all he strived for to be just slightly as amazing as them. Now they were dead, and Neville was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to make them proud.
So now he would avenge them.
Not just Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had tortured them to insanity, but he would murder every Death Eater that breathed.
So, no action, but a little fun with Time Travelling. As a kind of warning, or more like anti-warning, Time travelling won't play a role in this story from here on out. My story would turn into a mess if that happened.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter :)
Cheers
-Council