Chapter 21: A Day to Remember
The next morning Harry was awakened by someone prodding him in the ribs.
'Harry, wake up!' a voice said in a forced whisper. 'I'll use the Fluvius charm if I have to,' it warned.
Harry opened his eyes to find Marc standing next to his bed, pointing his wand down at him. 'I'm up, I'm awake!' he said, lifting his arms to shield himself and knock Marc's wand away.
After several more minutes of lounging in bed and prodding of the ribs, Harry finally got himself dressed and headed out of the common room, following an overly excited Marc.
Marc led the way out through the great ornate doors of Hogwarts castle, an extremely disheveled Harry a few steps behind him, pulling his robes around him tighter in the cold morning air. Marc grinned at Harry's mumblings about the injustices of being awake and outside this early on a Sunday morning.
This morning in particular was one of the nastier Halloweens Harry had seen yet, and this included his first year in which he faced a fully-grown Mountain Troll. The sky was completely covered in thick, dark storm clouds, reaching across the sky threateningly as far as they could reach. The boys' faces were met with blistering winds that numbed their cheeks within seconds of being outdoors, and lifted the many fallen leaves on the ground in myriad colourful twisters around the grounds. Harry shivered.
Having changed into their crimson robes, they headed toward the pitch with an equipment trunk. The first fifteen minutes of the 'fun' was excruciatingly cold and almost unbearable as Harry acted Keeper while Marc practiced taking shots at him with the quaffle. Harry acknowledged that had he been the Gryffindor Keeper last year, the Slytherins would have surely found a far worse song than Potter is our King.
Once they had warmed up slightly, Harry found the game to be much more exciting and was more than pleased to show his newest dorm mate how to play seeker. He was really quite impressed with Marc's abilities as he caught the snitch fairly quickly, six of the nine times it was released.
As they reached the end of their training, Harry and Marc tried out some of the tactics they had seen performed during professional quidditch matches, and Harry nearly fell off his broom when he watched Marc perform the Wronski Feint flawlessly.
'Where did you learn that!' he cried as they dismounted.
'Viktor Krum taught me. We played on the same team at Durmstrang and he was a fairly sound bloke, always nice to me and trying to help me improve my game.'
'Yeah, I always thought he was decent too, but Ron on the other hand ... See, Krum asked Hermione to the Yule ball in fourth year and Ron was right jealous, I don't care what he says.'
'Hermione was the girl he asked?' Marc said in a surprised tone. 'Everyone heard about the girl he had brought to the ball. The papers back home called her a 'near-Veela whose radiating beauty could stop a man's heart in his chest',' Marc continued to quote the newspaper article.
Harry laughed at the thought of Hermione's face had she seen that article. Suddenly a recent memory surfaced and Harry recalled that he was to receive news from Krum sometime during the school year. Hermione had warned him at the beginning of the term to expect an owl, and yet two months into the term he had still heard nothing. He wondered what a famous quidditch player like Viktor Krum could need from a simple sixth-year student halfway across the world.
'Breakfast then?' Marc asked him while they stored their brooms and the rattling quidditch trunk back into their places before heading back up to the castle.
By the time the pair of dark-haired boys entered the Great Hall, most of the students were now awake and in the hall, eating breakfast and talking to their friends while eagerly waiting for time to pass. It was only nine hours until the long-awaited Halloween feast, and there was not a soul in the room who could deny looking forward to it every year.
Harry waved at Cho as he passed the Ravenclaw table and found that she waved back merrily, clearly not harbouring any hard feelings about the previous day's events. He also caught Luna's eye and she smile at him from behind a textbook. They had barely seated themselves when Neville and Ron joined them and the four tucked in while discussing Marc's talent on the pitch. Ron was genuinely impressed when he learned of Marc's one-on-one training with Krum, and showed no signs of ever having disliked the Bulgarian player.
Just after half nine, the post owls swept in, dropping parcels and letters from families as well as subscriptions to Quidditch Weekly, the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet, into the waiting hands of the students. As Seamus collected his copy of Quidditch Weekly, Harry noticed an owl on the Gryffindor table and was staring at him, a copy of the Daily Prophet tied securely to its leg and leather pouch to the other. It took him a moment to recognise that the owl was dropping off Hermione's daily subscription, but that she was nowhere to be found. Dropping a sickle into the small pouch, Harry untied the paper and watched the owl fly off hooting happily, having completed its task.
Harry let the Prophet drop onto the table where it lay unread as his attention was pulled away by another delivery. An extremely large, horned Eagle Owl flew low over the house tables and deposited a letter in both Cho Chang's hands and Vincent Crabbe's. Then, not having stopped at all, it flew right back out of the hall. Few people had taken notice of the strange occurrence, most of them still talking and laughing amongst themselves, but Harry could not help but wonder who would be sending something to both Cho and Crabbe. Dumbledore, Harry noticed, did take note of the oddity and followed the bird's path with an ominous look in his eyes. Harry also had the strangest feeling that he had seen the large bird somewhere before.
Trying to recall where he had seen the horned creature before, he turned to the Prophet in front of him and his eyes widened at the heading on the front page.
15 disappearances reported in the last 24 hours
Rita Skeeter, Special Reporter for the Daily Prophet
In new and alarming developments, fifteen newly reported disappearances have now added to the last sixty-three over the past fourteen days. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has taken strong action in placing Aurors in and around heavily populated wizarding areas such as Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade Village. The Minister states that it is still unknown as to where these disappearances are originating, but that there is very little need for witches and wizards to worry.
It appears that each of the seventy eight missing persons are in fact Squibs, leading the Minister to believe that the disappearances may be the result of disagreements between some of the less understanding members of the Wizarding community and our population of magically uninclined. 'Either that, or these Squibs have somehow managed to make some sort of miscalculation in an attempt to practice magic,' Fudge said this morning. In any case, Minister Fudge promises that the matter will be resolved shortly, and reminds everyone that there is no need for concern at this time.
Harry threw the paper over to Ron who read it quickly and looked up at him with a similarly shocked and disgusted look on his face.
'That's what he's been up to!' Ron said, meaning Voldemort but still unwilling to say his name.
'No!' Harry breathed, remembering his dream from the night before and now understanding its meaning. He jumped to his feet and tore up to the staff table where he told Dumbledore that they needed to speak.
Dumbledore stood and politely asked Harry to follow him into the antechamber at the back of the hall away from the hundreds of curious eyes. Harry obliged without hesitation and as soon as the door was closed, burst into an account of his dream.
'The list Voldemort has been after from the Ministry must have been a list of all the registered Squibs, sir,' he explained while Dumbledore watched him calmly. 'And last night I saw him again, but this time he had the list, and marked certain ones for death by tonight! We have to stop him before he gets to the fourteenth person on that list,' he said remembering the certain torture destined for a member of the Order.
'There is nothing to worry about, Harry,' Dumbledore replied easily, trying to calm him down, but only resulting in infuriating him further.
'No, you don't understand! I am certain that the fourteenth person on the list is Mrs. Figg, and Voldemort asked for her to be taken care of personally and left somewhere where you would find her!' he shouted, now unable to control his anger while Mrs. Figg was probably being attacked in her home as they spoke.
Dumbledore's eyes darkened drastically at hearing this, but he continued to stare calmly at Harry. 'As I said, there is nothing to worry about. Arabella is very well hidden at the moment where not even the Dark Lord's many resources can reach her. Even if Tom is able to capture her secret keeper, I find it highly unlikely that he would get anything out of me,' he finished with a wink at Harry.
'But how did you know?' Harry demanded, flooded with relief but wondering why Dumbledore had said nothing the last time he had told him of his dreams.
'Since your last dream, the Order and I have been in contact with the Minister and worked out what Tom was planning. He has become bold enough to use the Imperius curse on Cornelius, though the Minister would not admit it himself, despite the obvious signs. While we were able to place Arabella in hiding, I'm afraid that the only list of registered Squibs is now in his possession, preventing us from hiding them all,' he added with disappointment.
'He hasn't got Filch has he, sir?' Harry asked, remembering the caretaker's absence and Hagrid's peculiar behaviour when asked about the Squib's whereabouts.
'It would appear so, Harry, but we have not stopped searching for him. There is still a chance that Argus is still alive. He's strong-willed.' Dumbledore's eyes darkened again, indicating his doubts and sadness, and Harry watched as the lines around his eyes became more prominent. For the first time, Harry appreciated how very old the Headmaster was and regretted bringing up what was surely a sore subject.
'I'm sure he'll turn up, sir' Harry said in an attempt to alleviate the tense situation. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly for him, before reopening the door to the Great Hall.
'Please Harry, do not worry about this at all, and do keep practicing your Occlumency in the evenings.
Harry retook his seat at the Gryffindor table and tried not to notice the curious glances coming from many of the other students. As soon as he sat down Neville and Marc asked if Filch had shared the same fate as those in the newspaper article. Harry tried his best to explain what Dumbledore had told him, leaving out the details of his dreams and of course that the Headmaster was Mrs. Figg's secret keeper. When Harry was done, there were several seconds of silence, as they all knew that there was nothing they could do.
'Well, I'm off,' Ron abruptly stood to leave. 'McGonagall's got me taking extra courses with her now that I've finally chosen my career path.'
'What have you chosen?' Neville asked curiously, trying to change the somber mood.
'I guess you'll have to wait and find out,' he answered to all their disappointments with a grin, before quickly setting off.
'I've actually got an appointment as well,' Marc said, starting to collect his things.
'What, with McGonagall as well?' Harry said in surprise, wondering when he would be called upon to discuss his possible Auror training.
'Uh, no. I'll be meeting with Professor Lupin.' Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He did not think that he would be sharing his private tutor with anyone. 'Dumbledore thought that he would be the best choice to continue my lessons in the Dark Arts. He said that he did not want me to stop learning my best Durmstrang subject just because I changed schools.' Marc shrugged his shoulders and headed out of the hall.
'Looks like it's you and me, Nev,' Harry said, taking another spoonful of oatmeal. Neville looked at him awkwardly. 'Not you too!' Harry said in exasperation. 'Am I the only one without a meeting?'
'No, it's not that,' Neville said with a small laugh and watched as Harry relaxed slightly. 'Mine's not for another hour.'
'Then what? Do I have something on my face?' he asked, running his sleeve across it in an attempt to remove any cemented oatmeal.
'Could we talk somewhere else,' Neville replied in barely a whisper. 'Unfriendly ears …' he said, nodding his head toward the staff table where Harry found Professor Black watching them.
Harry nodded and the two of them collected their things and walked to the library where they were certain to find far less people. Once sitting at the back of the musty room lined in volumes upon volumes of magical content, Harry gave Neville an expectant look.
'Well, I was just thinking, Harry. Defence class has been rather strained again this year, and while the material is at least practical, I don't feel many of the students are learning much under Professor Black's watchful eyes.'
'What's your point, Neville?' Harry asked dumbly, not seeing where this was headed.
'Well, we managed to find a suitable replacement last year, and I was hoping that he might wish to start his lessons up again?' Neville finished with an awkward smile. 'I think it would really help.'
The look on Harry's face was one of complete surprise as the words sunk in. 'No way!' he shook his head determinedly. 'Do you know what she would do if she found out? Besides, if anyone found out, Dumbledore could be forced to leave the school again and there is no way I will be responsible for that twice.'
'But we need it, Harry! And you know it. I don't want to see Dumbledore sacked either, but what good is a Headmaster if we're all dead at the feet of a bunch of Death Eaters?' He looked around nervously to ensure that Madam Pince was not trying to listen in.
Harry thought about this and understood how important it was that all of the students know how to defend themselves properly. Then he remembered something from second year that really did not get a chance to be effective, but that would surely prove useful now.
'Sorry Neville, but I'm afraid I can't restart the D.A. Even if it didn't mean trouble for Dumbledore, I barely have a moment's peace as it is.' Neville nodded resignedly and made to leave. 'Though there is one thing I think might be just as good, if not better. Let me speak to Dumbledore, but I'll bet he'll give us permission to reform the Dueling Club. And this time we'll have a competent professor to teach us.'
Neville's expression lit up instantly at the suggestion, 'That would be perfect! I can't believe I didn't think of that.'
The boys walked back out of the library discussing the dueling possibilities, and both getting a nasty and unwarranted look from the cantankerous librarian. Neville, content with the new possibility of practicing not only defence, but offence too, went off toward Professor McGonagall's classroom in high spirits, while Harry decided to check if Marc was done in his meeting with Lupin.
He walked the length of the main third floor corridor, trying and failing to think of anything but the Squib disappearances, until he reached the Defence classroom. His mind was still going over what might have happened to Filch as he turned the knob and let himself in. He had expected to find Marc and Lupin talking about some terribly painful Dark Arts curse, or possibly practicing a new line of useful hexes and jinxes. What he did not expect was to walk in on Professors Lupin and Black in one of the most heated arguments he had ever witnessed between professors.
'Who do you think you are to be teaching my subject to a student?' Professor Black screamed, her usually well-coiffed hair falling in her face.
'The Defence professor chosen by the Headmaster,' Lupin retorted equally enraged, 'and the professor who held this job long before you.' Harry had never seen him so angry in all the time that he'd known him.
'Yes, and we all know how THAT ended,' she spat as though he were beneath her.
'Ah, good point, Hyacinth. I am a filthy beast aren't I? Best to remember that.' He said this in a dangerously low and pointed voice, and Professor Black nearly snarled. She glared in silent fury from where she now stood behind her desk, refusing to say another word.
Harry looked up when he saw the office door open at the back of the room, and Marc stepped out.
'I think I found the book you wanted, Professor. Is this the right-' he fell silent at seeing two of his professors shooting daggers at one another.
'It's fine, Marc. Leave it. We'll pick this up another day, and most certainly in a different room. You're dismissed.' Marc nodded and placed the book on Professor Black's desk before walking quickly to the door.
'Chances are your little meetings will end once I've spoken with the Headmaster,' she threatened Lupin. 'I will not have the likes of you teaching my students. Now get out of my classroom.'
Lupin stared her down one last time and Harry could have sworn he saw him bare his teeth at her before turning and following Marc out of the room, not bothering to even look at him as he passed. Before Professor Black got a chance to attack him next, Harry turned and swept out of the room, ensuring the door was closed tightly before taking off down the corridor in the direction Marc had gone.
'Marc! Wait up,' he shouted and caught up to the curly-haired boy. 'What's going on?' he asked the obvious question.
'I don't know!' Marc answered him irritably. 'Have you ever seen two adults act like that? Professors on top of everything.'
Harry decided not to mention the way Umbridge had acted around Professor McGonagall, but grinned at the thought.
'Well, at least you got out of the rest of your meeting?' Harry suggested as consolation.
'I suppose, but I don't mind Professor Lupin. He's great, and he knows what he's doing. What's Professor Black's problem? I can't stand her sometimes!' he shouted in frustration.
'I'm sure you're not discussing a professor in that tone,' a familiar voice chided from behind them, causing both boys to freeze and turn around slowly. Snape was standing a few feet behind them, a maliciously pleased look on his face. 'I'm afraid I'll have to remove five points from Gryffindor for each of you.'
'But Harry didn't even-' Marc started to protest.
'Don't bother, it's no use,' he told him, glaring at the hook-nosed Potions professor.
'Mr. Potter is right. Now I suggest you both be on your way and in your common room until the feast,' he ordered before heading toward the Defence classroom, his robes billowing ominously behind him.
'So, where to?' Harry asked his friend, who looked confused and then stared down the corridor after Snape.
'Snape just told us to go back to the common room,' he said, as though Harry was daft.
'No, he simply suggested we do that. I personally don't hold his suggestions in very high regard.' Both of them laughed hard at this and started to make their way down the next corridor, no destination in mind.
The pair roamed the castle halls for the next hour, Harry continuously checking his watch and looking around to make sure nobody followed them. Finally, Harry made the monumental decision to trust his new friend, and led Marc up to the Asronomy tower, having told him there was something particularly interesting going on up there. They walked into the empty space used for evening Astronomy lessons and Marc started looking around for something that could be considered interesting.
'What's so great about this, Harry?' Marc asked, unimpressed by a classroom on the weekend.
'Not the room, this,' Harry said quietly before reaching into his shirt collar and pulling out the shining gold chain with the newly procured Time Turner dangling from it.
'That's not a … is it really?' Marc said staring at the object in awe. 'I've always wanted to see a Time Turner, but they're so rare. And quite illegal for underage wizards. How did you get it?' he narrowed his eyes at Harry.
'It's a long story, but I'm going to use it, and you're welcome to come with me if you like. You'll have to decide quickly because I'm leaving in,' he checked his watch again, 'fifty three seconds.'
'Where are you going and why in fifty three seconds?' Marc asked quickly, wanting to at least know what he would be getting himself into.
'My parents wedding, and because they were married on Halloween exactly eighteen years ago. The wedding starts in,' he checked his watch again, 'thirty six seconds. If we hurry we can go back and make it down to the lake quickly.'
Marc broke into a grin, nodding his head and rushing over to where Harry stood in the corner to have the long chain placed over his head as well. Harry took a deep breath and found Marc doing the same.
'One, two, three,' he said before grasping the small crown labelled with a tiny 'Y' and turning it back eighteen times. Harry felt a familiar dizzying sensation and looked around expecting to see things travel backwards extremely quickly like the last time he had done this. This time, however, was different. Swirls of colour spun quickly around them until everything went black and things remained dark for several long moments. A full minute into this and Harry began to think something had gone terribly wrong. Just as he and Mark shared a concerned look, the bright colours returned and the spinning began to slow.
Harry could now see the rapid changing scenes around him as students he had never seen filed in and out of the Astronomy classroom for lessons. Finally, the spinning halted and Harry and Marc found themselves once again standing in the astronomy tower alone. They looked around the classroom as Harry tucked the Time Turner back into his shirt and reached into his robes again for something else. In for a penny, he figured.
'Here Marc, get under this,' he said, revealing his invisibility cloak and draping it over his friend and himself. It was a tight squeeze as Harry was quite a bit broader in the shoulders than the previous year. To his credit, Mark took the news of an invisibility cloak in his stride, though Harry suspected this may have been the result of having just traveled 18 years through time.
'Now, we have to make sure we're not seen or history could be changed,' he warned his friend. 'Let's hurry, we're late.'
Marc nodded and the pair started to move quickly and cautiously out of the tower. Harry's eyes swept the corridors they passed, taking in all of the many similarities in this past time, as well as some of the changes. Most of the paintings were the same, and Harry was thankful they were hidden under the cloak as they passed the portrait of Sir Cadogan, who of course was brandishing his sword tirelessly and shouting out threats to unseen foes.
They finally made their way out of the entrance hall unseen, noticing that several House Elves were busy in the Great Hall decorating it with hundreds of white flowers. Just outside the Great doors, Harry stopped walking in shock at the number of people gathered around the edge of the lake in white chairs. Hundreds of students and staff, as well as certain Aurors Harry recognised, were gathered to celebrate his parents' wedding.
As they crept toward the scene, Harry was able to recognise far more people than he had initially thought he might. MadEye Moody was seated up at the front of the crowd, his face grizzled as ever, but with slightly more of his nose intact. He also had two perfectly working eyes, making Harry wonder how long it would be before he lost one. Most of the members of the original Order of the Pheonix were seated with Moody, including both Alice and Frank Longbottom. Harry felt guilty as he watched the happy couple converse, both of them sane and very much in love. He wished he had thought to bring Neville along, especially after the blond boy's reminder that he too had never gotten to know his parents.
Harry and Marc started to make their way up to the front of the crowd, hoping to get a better look at the wedding party, who from the look of things, had already made their way down the aisle. They crept along the edge of the lake, careful not to touch anyone, but also not to fall in. A comically long table filled with interestingly wrapped gifts blocked their path and Harry decided that the only feasible way to go on would be to go under. He started to explain to Marc that he would have to take the invisibility cloak and go under the table. Harry would meet him on the other side and slip back underneath quickly. Marc started to crouch low but stopped to point something out to Harry.
'Who do you suppose that one's from?' he asked, pointing toward a small box in the center of the table.
Harry looked over to the gift that indeed looked out of place. While the other gifts and parcels were wrapped in interesting and expressive papers, this one, the smallest by far, was wrapped in very simple white paper and tied tightly with a simple string bow. Harry recognized the wrapping immediately, having seen it fifteen times before. He poked a hand out to check the simple card resting on top and shook his head in disgust.
'Who's it from?' Marc whispered to him curiously.
'My Aunt Petunia,' Harry whispered back, unimpressed with the tiny gift, although he was slightly taken aback by the Dursleys having sent anything at all.
'Maybe I'll meet her one day?' Marc suggested, as though this would be a pleasant possibility and not something to be avoided at all cost.
Harry tried to contain his laughter. 'The chances of you meeting my aunt are slim to none, and those are the kinds of chances you should be thankful for.'
Marc crouched down again and climbed under the table, leaving Harry exposed. Harry bent down next, ready to climb under the table and nearly shouted when someone grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around.
'What do you think you're doing?!'
Harry stared straight ahead in panic at the extremely pretty woman with golden eyes as she repeated her question incredulously.
'I was just, I was trying to, I-' Harry sputtered, unsure how to fix this.
'Lily will be out any moment and if you're not stood at the alter she'll kill you, James!' the woman said urgently.
Harry's eyes widened. Of course she thought he was his father; what reason would she have to think otherwise? He smiled and nodded firmly. 'Headed there now,' he said with what he hoped was a confident smile and ran his hand through his hair the way he remembered seeing his father do it.
'Would you quit ruffling your hair!' the woman practically shrieked. 'It's your wedding day! And what on earth are you wearing?' She had finally realised that he was dressed in his Hogwarts robes. 'You're officially dead when she sees you,' the golden-eyed woman sighed in defeat. 'And what is that on your forehead?' Harry quickly flattened his hair over his scar and smiled awkwardly trying to think up an excuse.
Luckily he didn't have to as the woman was called away by one of the guests. 'Gwen! The Giant Squid's splashing again'. The moment she had turned her eyes away, Harry darted under the table and felt Marc still crouched under it. 'Quick, get out on the other side and hold the back of the cloak up for me'. Both boys were soon concealed on the other side of the table, and watched as the woman called Gwen turned back to find him gone. Harry held his breath as she looked under the table before turning on her heel with a huff and heading back into the sea of people behind her. It would have been funny were it not so terrifying.
'There will be no more leaving the invisibility cloak for any reason,' Harry said as the two of them walked up to the front of the crowd and moved in closer to actually stand nearest to the groomsmen.
Harry couldn't believe how happy he felt at seeing the eighteen-year-old versions of the Marauders. It was worth clamping down on the rage building in his stomach at being stood next to a murderous traitor. Pettigrew stood, seemingly happily, next to a smiling Remus Lupin, who in turn stood next to a full-faced, bright-eyed, and grinning Sirius Black. Harry could feel tears in his eyes at seeing his Godfather alive and well, standing not four feet away from him. As though that had not been enough, not two seconds later, James Potter stepped up to the alter in a flowing pair of black dress robes. Harry could not have smiled any wider had he tried. Seeing his father in the flesh, for the first time he could ever remember, made him happier than anything.
James Potter stood next to his best man grinning, a near mirror image of his son. Harry had always been told how much he looked like his father, and seen it in his many photographs, but seeing the resemblance in person was uncanny. Now he understood Lupin's earlier reaction to his eye change.
Music began to play and Harry and Marc both watched eagerly from their hidden position, as the soon to be Lily Potter started her march down the aisle. She was more beautiful than any of her photographs suggested, radiating a warmth and happiness that Harry so longed to know as she walked toward his father, her arm wrapped in a older man's arm.
Harry realised with a start that he was looking at his grandfather for the first time. He had graying sandy hair, reminding him of the present Lupin's and his face was round and friendly. Harry noted the emerald green from which his own eye colour had come. As soon as Lily had kissed him on the cheek and walked up to the alter, Harry followed his grandfather's path to his seat where his eyes fell upon his grandmother. The blonde, beautiful blue-eyed woman's face was, if possible, kinder than that of her husband's and it was clear to Harry where his mother's charisma originated. He couldn't help but wonder where on earth Petunia had come from.
A few moments later, Harry heard a familiar voice begin the ceremony and smiled widely at seeing Professor Dumbledore ordaining the marriage. The ceremony was fairly quick, and before he knew it he had witnessed his parents wedding in all its pomp.
While the crowd herded toward the castle for the reception festivities, Harry continued to watch the wedding party that remained behind for a brief photograph. He let his eyes sweep from one face to the next, noticing the happiness and excitement on each of the Marauders and then their counterpart bridesmaids, one of them being the golden-eyed Gwen.
He took a sharp intake of breath when his eyes fell onto Sirius' partner. A young Hyacinth Black smiled toward the camera after hitting Sirius in the back of the head playfully for having said something undoubtedly moronic. Harry stared open-mouthed at his Defence professor from his nightmare, whom it now appeared really had been at his parents' wedding.
He turned to Marc to get his attention and point out that Black was standing a few feet away from them, but found that the curly-haired boy was already scowling at someone else. He turned to see who had made him react in this way and also let his jaw go slack at seeing who remained seated on the now otherwise vacated white chairs.
Young Severus Snape and a man who looked remarkably like Sirius sat together, talking quietly under their breath while the wedding party took their photographs. In his final year at Hogwarts, Regulus Black could easily have been Sirius' twin, and had Harry not already seen his Godfather at the front of the crowd, he might have mistaken them.
'That's Regulus Black, Marc,' Harry told the boy, who still had not removed his eyes from the man with long black hair and grey eyes.
'I know,' said Marc coldly. 'What's he doing here? He's a Death Eater, isn't he?' he practically spat.
Harry was taken aback at the generally polite boy's sudden dark attitude. 'Well yeah, but he's probably here because his future wife's in the wedding. Did you notice?' he redirected the attention to their future professor. Marc looked over at her, and then up at someone else.
'Yeah, and I see she's been partnered with the Death Eater's brother. Great, two of Voldemort's servants under one roof,' he glowered at seeing Harry's Godfather.
'If you're talking about Sirius, he was innocent,' Harry insisted with a slight edge, bristling at Marc's tone.
'Of course he wasn't. All of the Blacks are either Death Eaters or dark wizards. Self-serving and heartless, the lot of them. Everyone knows that,' Marc corrected him, looking back at the two men on the chairs.
Deciding that he could explain the events leading to Sirius' assumed betrayal at a later time more conducive to an argument, he pulled Marc toward the castle so not to miss the rest of the celebration. The change of venue worked a treat, and the rest of the evening went by quickly, both of the boys enjoying themselves thoroughly, despite being trapped under a cloak. Harry had managed to pick up snippets of conversation here and there from several of his parents' old friends and noted that Voldemort's rising in this time had been just as severe as it would soon become in their own.
Harry was saddened every time he identified a member of the original Order from the photograph that Moody had shown him the year before. He knew that the majority would either be murdered or go missing indefinitely within the next three years. He wished he could warn them somehow, but Marc sensed this and warned him against it, reminding him of how history could be changed drastically if he did. He couldn't help but wonder if that would be such a bad thing.
Harry also noted that this younger Snape was oddly fond of the golden-eyed woman, and for most of the evening had had his arms wrapped around her. This was both strange and unnerving, as he had never thought it possible for the Potions master to show any sort of emotion other that spite, hatred or anger. This Snape was confident.
As the evening came to an end, Harry took one last longing look up at his parents, promising himself he would never forget it, and turned with Marc to hurry through the silent corridors. All they had to do was get back to the present now, and no one, save for the woman who had mistaken Harry for James would have to be the wiser.
'Do we have to go back just yet?' Marc said. 'There's still so much we could explore.'
Harry considered it for only moment before deciding that it was far too risky, especially at Hogwarts, where Dumbledore would soon be returning to his office. It was incredibly tempting though.
'Well, is there somewhere else we could go?' he asked. 'I would say my house, so that you could see my old room and stuff, but it's quite far from here, and I moved around a lot, so who knows who the current tenants would be' he laughed. This gave Harry an idea.
'We could go to my old house,' he offered. 'I have no memories of it at all, and have always wanted to see it.'
'Great, so how do you propose we get there? Time Turners don't do distance, only time,' Marc reminded him.
Harry bit his lip as he thought. 'I suppose we could sneak back down and out to Hogsmeade to catch the Knight Bus. Hmm,' he paused, 'that's assuming it was around in this time.'
'That sounds awfully complicated,' Marc said with a smile. 'How about we just use a Portkey?'
Harry laughed loudly, 'A Portkey? Right, because we learned that in first year Transfiguration,' he rolled his eyes before biting his lip again in thought.
'Well, I know how to do it,' Marc told him with a grin.
'What? How?' he asked incredulously, not believing that a fifth year could understand the complexities of such a charm.
'My parents used them all the time. My mum hates travelling by Floo and refuses to apparate. Afraid she'd be splinched or something,' he explained to Harry. 'Meant that I got a crash course in Portkeys by age nine.'
'Even so, once the Ministry finds that we've made an illegal Portkey and trace your wand, we'll be caught and then thrown in Azkaban for unauthorized time-travel,' Harry told him disappointedly. 'Trust me Marc, you don't want to mess with the Ministry when it comes to underage magic'.
'Well, I'm not even born yet, so if the Ministry catches on to any strange magic, all they'll be able to trace id either an unsold wand or the signature of a particular Unicorn in some forest. I think we'll be alright, mate. Let's do this.'
Harry smiled at his friends ingeniousness before nodding his approval and giving him the address to the old Potter home.
'Now we'll have to use the Time Turner first. I'm not even born for another year and a half, so I won't even have a room to show you. We could go ahead three years though, because I'd rather skip that blessed event.' Both boys scrunched their faces in disgust at the thought.
Seconds later, Harry had turned the knob labelled 'Y' ahead thrice. The boys experienced the same effect as their initial trip and once again found themselves alone in the Astronomy tower. Harry checked his watch before once again telling Marc the address. Marc grabbed a discarded star chart from a shelf next to him and closed his eyes in concentration. Harry grabbed hold of the chart as well and Marc pointed his wand at it casting 'Portus'. Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook behind his navel as the two were swept away from Hogwarts castle and dropped haphazardly on a patch of grass somewhere else.
Harry was the first to orient himself and stand up, brushing his robes free of dirt and leaves. Marc soon joined him and the pair looked around. The first thing Harry noticed was a signpost several feet away marked Godric's Hollow, and then turned to see what he had so often dreamed of in the past. Tucked in the corner of the tiny street was a welcoming cottage, hidden by many flowered shrubs and welcoming trees. The several windows of the inviting home were decorated in leaves, freshly fallen from the large boughs that hung nearby. Harry could see a well-kept garden running along the weaving stone path that led up to the front door. Sitting in front of the dark brown door, was a wonderfully carved Jack-O-Lantern, depicting a witch flying on a broomstick.
'It seems really nice, Harry,' Marc said and they started to walk toward the home. Harry saw a light on in one of the windows and wanted to see if he could perhaps see his parents again.
Aside from his old family home, there were only two other cottages on the cozy street, each near the edges of the crescent and tucked behind their own blankets of oaks and pines. Behind his home he could see woods stretching for miles and hills climbing toward the sky on both sides, leaving his home to be the focal point set in a small, yet graceful valley. Birds chirped, unseen from their perches in nearby trees, and owls hooted serenely as Harry and Marc walked up the stone path to get a closer look. Harry brushed his hand across a Lily as they stepped up to the window. Peering inside, they were greeted by a warm scene in a family room, where both James and Lily were seated peacefully talking to one another in front of the fire grate, a sleeping Harry in his mother's arms.
'Aw! It's baby Harry,' Marc teased, earning a punch to the arm.
The two continued to stare in for a while until the sudden interruption of two soft, popping noises back on the street. They both dove behind a large shrub with alarmingly yellow flowers and cautiously parted the leaves to see who had arrived.
To Harry's horror, he saw a dark cloaked figure followed by a short twitching one, both slowly approach the home. Harry fell backward in disbelief and his veins fill with ice, his mind racing uncontrollably. His scar burned more fiercely than he had ever felt it before. Marc just stared at him, unsure of what was happening. Harry couldn't believe what he had done; of all the nights, how could he have been so careless?
Halloween was not only the night his parents were married, but also the night they were murdered.