Time Immemorial Chapter 35, a harry potter fanfic

Antilitigation charm: Harry Potter's world belongs to JK Rowling, who is brilliant. The plot and original characters, including Nott, Svartrunir, and Morag Macmillan are mine.

Coromandel and I have been dying to see this chapter in print for AGES. Those of you who voted in the poll a month or more back, here it is. We humbly hope it lives up to your expectation. Thanks to everyone for sharing in this adventure with us, I hope you enjoy my 100K indulgence. Cheers!

Deirdre was ushered up to the Seventh Floor, and her mind picked at the route that Remus had taken. He had told her they were taking a shortcut when she asked about the strange path he had chosen. The Prefect made an effort at conversation, but she was too distracted to respond properly, and after two attempts, they fell into an uneasy silence.

Something was definitely off about this castle. There were fewer staircases between the entry hall and their destination than she expected, and she could have sworn that one hallway had undisturbed dust on the floor. The Prefect didn't seem bothered or surprised and that made her all the more curious.

As Remus gave the password, allowing them entry to Gryffindor tower, it grabbed her attention. "Space Oddity." Well put.

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open, and Deirdre was greeted by a wave of noise. The afterparty was in full swing, and the common room was crowded close with wizards and witches, all chatting animatedly. Drinks were being passed around, and there was a long trestle table set up in the corner, burdened with snacks and sweets. Deirdre's exclamation of surprise was lost in the din as she felt her rat friend leap from her shoulder to skitter away into the crowd. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled closer to Remus, and in so doing she narrowly missed a colour-changing jinx.

The scene was completely overwhelming, and she had little resistance to offer as the Prefect towed her along to the centre of the room. Remus possessed a presence that made people aware of him, and they moved aside, allowing them easier passage. Deirdre barely noticed as her attention was pulled elsewhere.

Off in the corner, two younger students were huddled together, and the shorter one was looking an off shade of green. His fellow muttered to him, "Don't be sick, Ollie."

Ollie obviously swallowed his bile, "I'm alright. I'm alright." He looked like he was exerting his entire will not to get sick.

"Don't get sick, Ollie. Not on the carpet."

"Ulp. I... I'm alright. I'm alright. I'll… be alright in a minute." Smoke was wisping out of his nose.

"Don't be sick, Ollie."

"I'm alright. I'm not well. Just... get me a drink and that'll sort me out."

Deirdre was absolutely certain that another drink was the last thing the boy needed. Remus' voice purred amusement into her ear. "That's Ollie Green and York Thistleton. Ollie just played his first game as chaser."

York stood up, "Now don't be sick. Remember that I told ye..."

Deirdre shook her head, looking aggrieved. Remus put his arm protectively about her shoulder, and given the strangeness of the situation, she didn't push him off immediately. He steered her closer to the fire. There, ensconced in a chair was a ruffled black-haired teen in round glasses. He was tanned, well muscled, and in spite of his recent injuries, looked like a King at his ease.

Remus nodded to him, "James." He steered Deirdre ever closer. A sleek, black-haired wizard stood at James' right hand and was passing down a smoking golden drink in a tumbler, having one cradled in his hand, reserved for himself. Grey eyes crinkled in amusement as their friend approached. "Ah, Mooney. Wondered where you'd got to." Finely arched brows raised in speculation as he took in Deirdre's presence, "Ah. I see you have been profitably engaged."

A whisper in Deirdre's ear was meant to be reassuring. "You... had better pretend to be with me. Otherwise Sirius will consider you a challenge." Hardly. She felt more trapped than before.

"Don't scare her, Sirius. You should know better manners than that. Or did your mother strip those away too?" Remus smirked at his friend, gold eyes reflecting the firelight as he teased him. Deirdre stilled, waiting for the response to that casual provocation.

Sirius bared his teeth at Remus before tossing back a gulp of the smoking amber liquid in the glass. Firewhiskey. They were sharing around Firewhiskey. No wonder those two in the corner were getting sick.

James spoke up, "So. Are you going to introduce us?" White square teeth flashed a welcoming smile at Deirdre, and she had the impression of dark eyes behind those reflective round lenses.

Remus cleared his throat, making the formal introduction. "James Potter and Sirius Black. Meet Miss Deirdre Ward. She's joining classes on Monday. Transfer student." Deirdre resisted the gentle pressure that her 'date' had placed on her back. She supposed he intended for her to rush forward to shake hands with the villians, but he couldn't be more wrong.

James moved to lean forward, but winced and thought better of it. "Augh. Well, welcome to our party. When Gryffindor wins, the whole school celebrates with us." He spread and arm out expansively.

Sirius silently raised his tumbler in a toast to Deirdre, taking a sip before turning his attention back to Remus. They were staring at one another, as though engaged in some form of silent communication. Remus' arm was still about her shoulder, and she felt his muscles tense.

A girl was leaning against the mantelpiece, hovering and hanging onto every word that the boys were passing. She giggled at intervals, but she drew Deirdre's eye to the collection of rubbish and tchotchkes, including a glass bird in a top hat that was dipping up and down at regular intervals. Deirdre heard her say, "This isn't just any party, you know. Quality, this is." She had wheat gold hair in loose waves, and still had her uniform on. She had a glass held loosely in her hand as well, although it did not smolder like the others did.

Sirius' attention didn't seem to be anywhere near the poor girl. She seemed to be trying too hard. Remus supplied in a low whisper, "That's Justeen Prewitt. She's likely to replace Huxley after this year. She's a chaser."

Deirdre's eye was led upwards to the portrait over the fireplace, and it seemed very out of place. It was a portrait of a Wizard, who was striking a dramatic pose in a skin-tight electric blue bodysuit, with an electric guitar held loosely in his hand. Some deep part of Deirdre was obscurely grateful that the guitar covered as much as it did. It didn't move, thank goodness.

Taking note of Deirdre's interest, Sirius asked, "Rather good, isn't it?"

Leveling a stare of disbelief at Sirius, Deirdre asked, "That's you, then?"

Strutting around the chair, Sirius walked over, oozing confidence. A faint groan in her ear told her what Remus thought of this development. "Fine figure of a man, I am." He looked down at her, his chest puffing up with pride.

Behind him, James dropped his forehead into his hand and swore, "Oh, for Merlin's sake."

Deirdre narrowed her eyes at Sirius Black, considering. "Granted. But can you play guitar, or are you just posing?"

Face brightening with the fervour of an artist asked to share his work, he said, "Oh, aye. I play." As her response was not as intense has he hoped, he said. "I'll just have to show ye. Be right back." He pressed his tumbler into Remus' hands as he ran off.

A shorter, pale round-faced fellow edged into view. "Shouldn't have done that, Miss. Now he'll make us all listen to that awful racket."

James called from his chair. "Peter. Oh, thank God. Can you put a stop to this madness?"

Peter shook his head at James, his front teeth peeking out, making him seem most approachable of the four. "Fraid not, afraid not. Have you seen Morag? I hoped she'd come."

Sirius' voice could be heard filtering down from the landing. "Ah ha!"

James let his head fall down, "Oh noooo."

Hopping over the banister, Sirius dropped down a few feet away, the same black electric guitar now strapped about his shoulders. Some of the crowd seemed to thin out at the development, but Peter caught sight of the person he had been looking for and strode off towards the trestle table that was laden with food.

Remus groaned again, and steered Deirdre to a sofa nearby that had just been vacated by those fleeing the scene. The girl by the fireplace seemed intrigued. Deirdre felt the cushion next to her dip as Remus sat next to her. "Did you want something to drink?" He still held the tumbler belonging to Sirius, swirling the liquid languidly.

Deirdre shook her head, "No, I really shouldn't."

Sirius watched his friend and the new girl, and a dangerous smile illuminated his features. "You're the one we saw with Snivellus earlier."

Deirdre stiffened, defensive spells at the ready. Her wand was up her sleeve, accessible.

Sirius bent down, openly leering at her. "Careless of Snivellus to leave his toys laying around."

Remus snarled at his friend, "Shove off, Black. She's with me."

Sirius' hands came up in a gesture of appeasement. "Hold up. Easy now." He looked at Deirdre, a longer, more searching examination. "Enchanting. You have the most peculiar effect on foul-tempered wizards, ma chère. I know just the song." His right eyelid shivered in a wink before he turned away and started to play.

Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-dooo..

Remus grumbled and knocked back half of his friend's whiskey, wincing as the liquid burned down his throat. "Ugh. I will need that shortly."

In the corner behind them, Deirdre overheard the two again,

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright, alright. Ulp. I'm alright."

The witch at the mantlepiece stepped closer, like a cat moving in on her prey. Sirius seemed completely unaware. She tossed her mane, an attempt to attract attention. Her hips were starting to twitch with the music.

Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-dooo..

Deirdre was becoming convinced that Sirius had learned from listening to a broken record when he started to sing, "Got a black magic woman.."

Witches around the room stopped, heads swivelling like sunflowers to the brightest source of light in the room. Deirdre looked appalled and glanced up at Remus, hoping to find an ally in this strange tableau. He waggled his eyebrows at her and stood, extending a hand in invitation.

"Got a black magic woman…"

Being a sucker, Deirdre expected that he wanted to leave the party as much as she did. No. Such. Luck. She was hoisted to her feet and drawn up to him before she knew what had happened. He directed her left arm up to his right shoulder and took her right hand in his left, and off they went. Feeling rather than hearing Remus rumble with amusement, she froze, looking up at the admittedly handsome Prefect. "It's okay. I'll teach you." His eyes glinted gold in the fire light. Did she have a choice? She was about to squeak that out as a question when he threw her into motion, "One, two, three, four and one…"

Deirdre felt herself move, and some dusty old storeroom in the back of her mind produced the name of the step, "Cha-cha."

She stepped backwards, belatedly hitching the four, and then chased Remus back forwards. Remus dropped his head to whisper at her again, "Good. Loosen up. It will flow better."

"I got a black magic woman… Got me so blind I can't see,"

Deirdre attempted to follow the request, but was really too scared to do it well. She gasped as Remus' heel found contact with someone's discarded glass. The glass crumbled under his weight with a satisfying crack. "Oh!" Again, she felt him rumble in amusement. Now the shards were under her feet, and she too was grinding them into dust.

"That she's a black magic woman… She's trying to make a devil out of me."

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright. No, really. Ulp. I'm alright."

Doo-doo-doo-dooooo..

Remus swung her out and then brought her back, re-establishing the pattern. One, two, three, four and one… crunch, crunch, squeak, crunch, and...

Deirdre's elbow jostled Justeen, who had gone back to leaning on the mantle, and as she stumbled, she sent the drinking bird and all of the little bits of porcelain down onto the floor underneath them. Other couples were dancing as well, and started to trample the ceramics into pieces too, creating an odd percussion underlay to the song.

Across the room, someone had placed the winning game Snitch in a cage, and the golden ball could be seen buzzing about like a frenetic fly, trying to get out. And that's just what it did as a nervous wizard leapt back out of the path of a dancing couple, knocking into the cage and springing the little door open.

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I"m alright..."

"Don't turn your back on me, baby…"

One, two, three, four and one… crunch, crunch, squeak, crunch and...

The snitch buzzed about their heads, and Remus, having broken a sweat leading Deirdre about the floor, yelped, "James!? A little help..."

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I"m alright..."

"Don't turn your back on me, baby…"

One, two, three, four and one… crunch, crunch, squeak, crunch and...

Zip zip zip zipppp! The snitch made an abrupt turn and headed for the tall figure dancing with Lily.

Remus turned Deirdre about so they were both facing the same direction as they cha-cha'd along, and he had to catch her elbow as she wobbled under the unfamiliar moves. Who was she kidding? Everything was unfamiliar. Only one person seemed right in this whole madhouse, and again she desperately wished that she hadn't been dragged into this.

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I'm alright..."

"Yes, don't turn your back on me baby..."

One, two, three, four and one… crunch, crunch, twirl, crunch and...

Deirdre caught a glimpse of a flash of long red hair whipping about on the dance floor. She couldn't help but stare as a striking black wizard led Lily Evans lightly about the common room floor. The Snitch was determinedly buzzing around them now. The tall wizard didn't seem perturbed one bit, but Lily was clearly having problems focusing. One hand waved vaguely at it and her voice could be heard, "Kingsley, get rid of this thing!"

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I'm alright..."

"Stop messing around with your tricks..."

One, two, three, cross-carry, four and crunch...

Nearby, Peter's voice could be heard. "Calming pie? What a great idea, Morag. How did you do it?" Deirdre caught sight of James diddling his wand from his place at the fire. What was he up to? The Snitch was now buzzing in tight circles around Lily's partner's head.

The nervous wizard who had set the snitch free in the first place did a complicated wand movement, and after flash of white light, the snitch dropped to the floor, now inert and under Kingsley's boot heel. There it was heavily trod upon, flattening the Snitch with a satisfying crunch.

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I'm alright..."

"Don't turn your back on me, baby..."

One, two, three, cross-carry, four and crunch...

James' eyes glinted malignantly having been deprived of his first line of harassment, and he downed the rest of the contents of his tumbler. After shifting in his chair with a wince, he shot off another spell, turning Lily's hair to gold and red stripes that undulated with the music.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, we're in for it now." He cast about, looking for anyone who might be able to stop James from doing anything else inadvisable. Deirdre watched Lily out of the corner of her eye. She was dancing beautifully, her hips moving just right. Deirdre felt wholly inadequate by comparison.

"Don't be sick."

"I'm alright... I'm alright..."

"You just might pick up my magic sticks."

One, two, push away, twirl, back and crunch...

Remus pulled Deirdre back into him, so close now that they constantly touched, rather than maintaining that space. She could feel his breath on her neck and knew that he was trying to say something, but her brain was a complete fuzz. She was fully overstimulated and flying high on the exhilaration of the moment.

"Don't be sick."

"BLEARG!" Ollie lost his battle. Fortunately his buddy, York, had seen it coming and had a bin handy.

"Got your spell on me baby..."

One, two, three, grind, four and gasp...

Feeling dizzy, Deirdre clutched onto Remus as he guided her across the crowd of dancers. She felt him holding her up, reducing her chance at turning her ankle on the multitude of broken glass and china already littering the floor. His chest was heaving under the labour of the dance, and Deirdre felt the Prefect's regard. He dipped his head down to speak into her ear, now that he had her tucked in close, "Would you like a break?"

"Oh, you're getting sick..."

"BLEARG..." "Toooooot." Ollie was going at both ends under the strain.

"Got your spell on me baby..."

One, two, three, twist and lean, two three…

Across the room, James twirled his wand again, this time aiming it at Lily's partner. Kingsley Shacklebolt sank to the ground mid-turn, his legs going soft like rubber. Lily stumbled and fell, crying out an oath. Hands reached down to help her up, but the one-man band played on.

Deirdre's relieved agreement to that break was needless as everything came to a grinding halt, the whole room turning to stare at Lily and Kingsley. Remus had brought Deirdre to a standstill right next to the table that was laden with the food. Peter was there, talking with a plump witch with golden hair done up in braids with flowers. Her facial features were delicate, but her hands and arms were solid, her middle thick.

A drink floated under Deirdre's nose and she took it from Remus with a truncated question, "What?"

Remus shouted to her, "It's just punch. Nothing added. I swear it." Deirdre licked her lips, finding that she was surprisingly thirsty. While Remus' back was turned, she dumped the punch into someone else's abandoned cup and used her wand to fill it with water. She recalled Severus doing the same for her. It seemed like weeks, but it had only been yesterday.

Lily had finally got herself disentangled from her dance partner and rose from the floor with a murderous look on her face. The crowd parted, forming an open passage between her and James Potter.

"Not on the carpet, Ollie. The bin.."

"HEYARGG..." "Toot toooot."

"Yes, got your spell on me baby..."

The sight of Lily stomping over didn't seem to ruffle James at all. He was too busy laughing. Peter squeaked behind Deirdre, "Calming pie. Um. Do you have to eat it, then? I think I'd like a slice."

A spell hit James Potter full in the chest and he turned into a block of ice. He started to slip out of the chair. Sirius had to stop playing then, and rushed over to get a hold of his friend so he didn't fall to the floor and shatter. "What is your problem, Lily?" A goofy smile spread across his face as he took in the moving stripes on Lily's hair. "I rather like your hair that way, myself."

Lily's face registered surprise and she lifted up a hank of hair, finally seeing what everyone else was.

Morag's alto behind Deirdre said, "Well, they're just a prototype, but I thought it'd come in handy for one of these wild parties you Gryffindors have." Deirdre whipped around, asking... "Ingested, or topical calming solution?" The blonde woman blinked at the unfamiliar witch asking her proprietary questions.

Deirdre huffed before repeating herself, clearly enunciating each syllable, "Ingested… or"

Morag supplied the answer now, understanding what Deirdre was asking. "Erm. Both, I think."

Deirdre nodded to the witch. "Let me have one, then." When the girl hesitated, Deirdre shook her hand in her face. "Pie. I need to use one of those pies." As the white fluffy confection was thrust into her open hand, Deirdre swiftly used her other hand to steady the surprisingly heavy dessert. "Thank you." Part of it got onto her fingers. Instantly she started to feel less worried. Yes. If she just stopped to analyse the situation, the variables largely sorted themselves out. Ah, yes. That is what she will do.

Sirius had stepped backwards, "Lily. You realise I was playing the guitar and had nothing to do with this, don't you?" A chuckle escaped his lips, "Truly it does bring out your team spirit, just an innocent.. "

Lily opened her mouth and shrieked at Sirius, "FUNNY... You think that this is FUNNY?!" She held up two palms riffled over with shards of glass. She pointed at her dance partner, still on the ground. Remus had sidled over to Kingsley and cast the counter curse, allowing the Ravenclaw to finally stop wobbling about and get up. Deirdre prowled around the other side, taking her close to the puking and tooting Ollie. She was trying to avoid Lily's notice, but also Sirius' to a certain extent. Remus helped Shacklebolt to his feet, muttering well-rehearsed apologies for the behaviour of his friend and the rest of his House.

"I AM GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR FAVOURITE BITS AND THEN FEED THEM TO THE MERPEOPLE! I WILL TAKE JAMES AND TOSS HIM IN AFTER YOUR BITS AND THEN WHERE WILL YOU TWO BE?!"

Deirdre's droll voice nearby distracted Lily, causing her to turn away from the cowering wizards. "In Sirius trouble, I imagine. It isn't called Black Lake for naught, I suppose."

As Lily drew in a deep breath, preparing to lay into the newest member of the conspiracy to RUIN HER LIFE, Deirdre wound back and tossed the pie straight into Lily's face. She nearly knocked Lily off of her feet with the force, and the cream topping splooshed around the Prefect's Gryffindor striped pate a good three inches all around. Cream dripped down from her ears and saturated her robes. The disposable tin foil pan fell to the floor with a loud clang, breaking the stunned silence.

Dusting her hands off, Deirdre watched Lily's expression closely. She was holding her breath along with the rest of the room.

The pink tip of Lily's tongue poked out, clearing her lips of the confection. A finger crept up and swiped a peak of the cream off of her cheek, and Lily turned to Sirius and thrust it into his face. "You just HAVE to try this, Sirius." Her delighted green eyes ratcheted down to James, still in ice-cube form, and she giggled as though she had seen him for the first time. "Always thought he was cool."

Snorting indelicately, Deirdre faintly responded, "Indeed." She arched a single eyebrow at the little tableau. Done with that crisis, she retraced her steps, ignoring silent stares. Her footsteps clicked and crunched their way across the room, and she arrived back at Peter's side near the food table. In a more conversational tone, she commented to the room in general, "Well. I'd say that worked."

A low buzz filled in those silences as students started to register exactly how much trouble they'd be in collectively if McGonagall got wind of this. A pair of smarter, more enterprising girls started to work on the clean up, enlisting a trio of amiable wizards, Hufflepuffs by their colours.

Huxley, also helping to clean up, had found the Snitch on the floor, and he guffawed as he held it up between thumb and forefinger for all to see. "I reckon Wilkes could manage to catch this one now." It was as large as an eagle owl and flat as a pancake. One of its wings fell off with a tinkle, answered by raucous laughter. Many in the crowd turned their attention that way, grateful for something less awkward to talk about. Plans were being laid out to frame it and post it on the wall.

The triumphant bushy-haired witch turned back to Peter's friend and gifted her with a beatific smile. "Morag, was it? Jolly brilliant work, that. Bravo." She stuck out her hand at the blonde, "I'm Deirdre. Deirdre Ward."

"Yes, quite. Well, um…" The pretty girl glanced at Peter whose eyes were watering with the effort of not laughing out loud. The daft boy had his mouth firmly pressed together although paroxysms of chortling were still escaping his control. He had an overbite, so this made him look rather odd indeed. "And, this is Peter Pettigrew." He lifted his hand in a weak wave.

Deirdre frowned at Peter, offering him a desultory nod before turning her considerable focus back on the blonde witch. After a beat of taking in Morag's colours of yellow and black, she exclaimed, "Thank Merlin, you're not another bloody stupid Gryffindor. I don't suppose you can direct me back to the infirmary?"

The two girls took their leave of Peter and the party, passing through the portrait hole arm in arm.

A pair of gold eyes followed Deirdre's retreating figure. Remus had made no move to stop his dance partner from leaving, but she had made no effort to say goodbye and that did rankle. He hoped she had had a good time, although he suspected the whole evening was a gigantic disaster, thanks to James. A supersonic whine issued from his throat before he tore his attention away from the witch and back to the mess underfoot. Duty called.