Rewrite the Stars
Summary: "Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own." – Robert A. Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land. FemHarry.
Just a warning: FemHarry, AU, Language, Clichés, Age Difference, Messed Time Line, More in the Future
Just so you know (Name): FemHarry's name is Charis Aster Potter. In Greek mythology, a Charis is one of the Charites or "Graces"; goddesses of charm, beauty, nature, human creativity and fertility. This name comes from an Ancient Greek word meaning "Grace", "Kindness" and "Life". Aster is an Ancient Greek word for "Star" while the meaning of the flower Aster can differ depending on the presentation, my favorites being "Elegance", "Patience" and "Daintiness". Also, the Ancient Greeks used to burn aster leaves to ward off both snakes and evil spirits.
I don't own anything related to Marvel or Harry Potter!
Chapter 14. A Man Called Stark
After Christmas, time had gone by so quickly that Harry felt rather surprised when, one Monday morning, she looked at the calendar in her dorm room to see that it was already March.
The small thirteen years old felt a little dazed on the morning of this discovery as she and Neville left the castle together, crossing the vegetable patch and making their way toward the greenhouses, where Herbology was taught as well where all magical plants were kept.
"It's just… is strange," Harry admitted, gripping the leather strap of her messenger bag. "I'm starting to feel paranoid, things have never gone so smoothly."
Neville nodded, frowning a little, "I know what you mean – Usually, something would have happened by now and we would all be staring at our calendars, begging for time to pass faster so the school year will finally come to a end."
The two friends shared a look, refusing to voice their thoughts out loud in fear of jinxing themselves but agreeing that there was no doubt that something would be happening sooner rather than later. Things like a peaceful and normal school life never lasted in Hogwarts.
"Harry!"
Said girl's eyebrow twitched and her grip on the strap of her tightened. Neville scowled, trying to not look like he wanted to grab her arm and run as fast as he could.
Slowly, they turned around to see Professor Lupin walking in their direction and holding a box against his chest.
"May I speak to you?" He asked with a small smile.
"I have Herbology now," Harry replied politely, trying to not show how uncomfortable she was.
The small girl wished that James hadn't left the castle early that morning to talk to the Goblins about something. She would have felt safer with him there.
Professor Lupin was a good teacher and maybe even a good man, but his interest on her was a little creepy. And Harry had enough experience with this kind of thing to know that such interest couldn't mean anything good; for both her and the older wizard.
"Ah," Professor Lupin said. He considered Harry for a moment with a odd look on his face before saying, "It'll be just a second."
Neville opened his mouth to speak, giving Professor Lupin the same look he had given James before he knew who the ice-blue eyed man was to her. Harry took his hand, cutting him off.
"Ok," She gave him a small – fake – smile, "but it has to be fast."
Harry ignored the look Neville sent her, as if he was questioning her sanity. He probably was and, to be honest, so was she. But she hoped that with talking to him, the scarred man would leave her alone.
"Mr. Barnes is going to be furious," Her blonde haired friend informed her, ignoring their teacher's curious look.
Harry grimaced.
Furious was an understatement. Knowing him, murderous would have suited her Great-Uncle's future reaction better.
"Don't worry," Harry said, wondering if she was trying to convince her chubby friend or herself. "It'll be just a second."
Neville opened and closed his mouth before he made his decision.
Staring at Professor Lupin with narrowed eyes, the thirteen years old wizard sighed, "I'll warn Professor Sprout that you're going to be late."
The raven haired girl then noticed their Herbology teacher striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by the Hufflepuffs.
With that, Neville made his way to Professor Sprout. There was a moment of silence as Harry crossed her arms and waited to hear what Professor Lupin had to say.
"I…" Professor Lupin cleared his throat, "I don't know if I told you, but I was friends with your parents, your father more so…"
Harry arched her eyebrow. Yes, he had told her that already.
The amber-eyed man continued, "I was also friends with Sirius… Your godfather, I mean…"
The small raven-haired girl scowled slightly.
Over the holidays, Harry had stayed in contact with her godfather; learning more about her parents' childhood from his letters. And, while the ex-escaped convict had spoken about Neville's parents and a few old classmates, Sirius never said anything about Professor Lupin.
"I wanted to know if you knew why he isn't getting my letters?"
With pure disbelief, Harry gave him a look before she blurted out, "That's it? That's why you have been stalking me?"
No, she thought after a moment. If contacting Sirius was the problem then his interest on her won't have existed before her godfather's trial.
Professor Lupin sputtered, eyes wide, "Stalk – No! Why would you think so such thing?"
Emerald green-eyes stared at him as questioning his sanity.
"You watch me all the time and you follow me around, sir," Harry informed him politely, now feeling more annoyed than uncomfortable. "That's stalking."
Professor Lupin sputtered a little, paling as if he only now saw his actions for what others would perceive it as. He opened his mouth to speak but Harry interrupted him, pulling out a scrap of parchment and a muggle gel pen from her messenger bag and began scribbling on it.
"Here, sir, give this to the Goblins," Harry offered the paper to him. "They're the only ones allowed to pass any kind of correspondence to Sirius."
Professor Lupin blinked, "I –"
Before he could say anything, the scarred man was interrupted by the arrival of Snape. The greasy haired Potions Master wascarrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
Harry stared back, never being one to be intimidated by Snape.
"Ah, Severus," Professor Lupin said, smiling weakly. "Is that…?"
Snape handed the smoking goblet to him, his eyes wandering between Harry and the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The small girl had no idea of what he was thinking but it clearly wasn't anything good.
"I was just talking to Harry about something." Professor Lupin said, pleasantly, placing the slip of paper she had given to him inside the pocket of his robes.
"Fascinating," Snape drawled, "You should drink it now, Lupin."
"Yes, yes, I will."
Although he said that, Professor Lupin hesitated as he took the goblet.
Snape gave him a intense look. Harry narrowed her eyes, finding it suspicious. It wasn't a secret that Snape loathed Professor Lupin and that he did everything he could to not be in the other man's presence for longer than necessary.
So… What did Snape want?
"Lupin," Snape smiled nastily, "You don't want any accident happening do you? You won't want to infect one of our students, would you?"
Professor Lupin paled, the hand which was holding the goblet started shaking.
Harry observed their infraction in silence and mentally cataloguing every word and action, just like how her Great-Uncle had taught her. There was something happening here and the more information she got, the better.
"I – Yes, of course, you're right," Grimacing, Professor Lupin drank half of the contents of the goblet.
"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued. "If you need more."
At this, Harry's flickered toward the potion, trying to memorize the color and smell coming from it. Whatever this potion was, it was important.
The scarred man drank the rest of the potion, looking a little green, "I-I should probably take some again later, yes. Thanks very much, Severus."
"Not at all," Snape said with that unpleasant smile of his. Sending one last look at Harry and taking the goblet back, the black haired man turned around and walked away, his robes billowing with invisible wind as he moved.
Professor Lupin watched him go before giving Harry a trembling smile, "Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," He explained. "Is for my, ah, illness."
Harry hummed but didn't say anything about it.
It wasn't a secret at Hogwarts that Professor Lupin was plagued by a mysterious illness that caused him to be confided in the Hospital Wing for days. He had missed a lot of lessons because of his illness, having to be substituted by some of the other Professors. So far, the Gryffindors had Dumbledore and Flitwick as substitute.
"Well," Professor Lupin said, looking like he just wanted to open a hole on the floor and hide from the rest of the world there, "I better be going, I don't want you to be more late than you already is."
He gave Harry a small, weak smile and walked away without giving her the chance to speak, following the path Snape had taken early. Harry stood there for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened before deciding to put any thought about this strange encounter aside.
She would talk with James about it later.
Harry did tell James about the strange encounter with Professor Lupin and Snape.
Unfortunately for her, her best friend turned traitor decided to tattle and recounted everything that she had omitted from her Great-Uncle. Meaning, that Neville told James about her talking to Professor Lupin alone.
If she hadn't known that the veteran would have learned about it later on (Because Harry knew that she could never hide anything from her Great-Uncle), then the green-eyed witch would have been rather cross with her chubby friend.
"Nothing happened!" Harry reassured James for the hundredth time in the last two minutes, trying to not grimace.
She hated whinnying like this; it made her feel like a skinner female version of Dudley. But no matter how much tried, she couldn't convince James that she was fine and that nothing happened. Despite his stalking tendencies, Professor Lupin had only wanted to talk about Sirius and they practically didn't even do that because of Snape's arrival.
"Charis."
She clamped her mouth shut, looking up into her Great-Uncle's eyes with apprehension as he tilted her chin gently with his hand.
"Next time," James informed her, "Make a excuse. Do not speak to Lupin without someone there with you."
"Ok," Harry agreed, knowing that there will be no such thing as next time.
"Or just hit him where it hurts and then run."
"I'll Kick the Punk Where it Hurts," She quoted dutifully, grinning at her long haired Great-Uncle.
"Good girl," James said, lips twitching up as his eyes warmed with amusement.
Green-eyes blinked as a thought hit her.
"Oh, yeah!" She said, face palming, "I almost forgot!" Her Great-Uncle's back straightened as he looked at her with keen eyes, "Uncle James, there is something really strange going on with Professor Lupin and I think Snape knows about it or is involved somehow."
James pursed his lips, "Tell me."
Describing everything with as much detail as she could, Harry told him all about the goblet and Snape's attitude towards Professor Lupin as well said man's reactions to the Potions Master's words.
"I think there was some kind of double meaning or hidden message there…" Harry mused to herself.
"Probably both," The long haired man said, humming as he stared out of the window. "I'll look into it. Leave it to me, doll, and just enjoy the rest of your school year."
Harry giggled as he reached out to ruffle her hair. She smiled widely, happy that she had James with her. The green-eyed witch knew that she could trust him to have her back and to trust her. Different from all the other adults in her life.
There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal Neville. He scanned the abandoned classroom they had been using to talk before he focused on the duo.
"Hello, betrayer," Harry said dryly, turning her head to stare at him.
James snorted when Neville paled, sputtering as he tried to distract her.
"S-So – Er – Are you ready to go to DADA, Harry?" The blonde haired boy asked nervously.
There was no answer. She stared at friend with unblinking doe-like green eyes, making him sweat a little.
"D-Did you hear that Professor Lupin left the castle?" Neville shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "S-Strange, right?"
Silence.
When she noticed that he was close to panicking, Harry smiled. The small thirteen years old couldn't stop herself from giggling when her friend pouted, having understood that she was teasing him.
James shook his head fondly at the duo.
"Come on, kids. You don't want to be late," The ice-blue eyed man said, pulling the hood of Harry's Invisibility Cloak up and disappearing from view.
Harry took hold of Neville's arm, smiling when she noticed that her Great-Uncle had grabbed her shoulder gently, and the duo – plus their invisible companion – started walking.
They weren't too far from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and soon came to a halt in front of its door. As Harry pulled the door open, Neville muttered a small prayer under his breath; hoping that the substitute teacher this time around would be either Professor Flitwick or Dumbledore.
Unfortunately, in Hogwarts, things rarely worked as you wanted them too.
James's grip on her shoulder tightened and Harry grimaced, resisting the urge of sighing in defeat. Beside her, Neville paled as dark eyes looked up at them from behind the teacher's desk.
Snape. Of all teachers in this school, it had to be Snape. Why was it always Snape?!
"Potter! Longbottom!" Snape sneered nastily, "You're late!"
Her blonde haired friend tried couldn't even move, frozen in place as his mind tried to process what was going on. Harry discretely looked down at her wristwatch, pursuing her lips when she noticed that no, they weren't late.
She didn't say anything, knowing that they would be losing points no matter what.
As if trying to prove her point, Snape said, "I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Now, sit down."
Taking Neville's hand, Harry guided her poor terrified friend to the back of the room. As they did, more students entered the room, all of them letting their displeasure evident the moment they noticed who was Professor Lupin's substitute.
Snape looked around the class, black eyes glittering. Immediately, Harry knew that the man was planning something unpleasant.
Absentmindedly, she wondered if it had anything to do with the strange encounter from that morning.
"Professor Lupin is sick again," his eyes darkened as a twisted smile appeared on his face, "and has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far –"
To the horror of many, Hermione interrupted, her hand narrowly missing Lavender's face as it shot up in the air.
It was in situations like this that people understood why the bushy haired witch had been sorted in Gryffindor. Only a lion would be courageous – or at least stupid – enough to interrupt one of Snape's speeches.
"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, grindylows, ghouls, trolls, dark spirits –" She listed quickly, as if under the effects of several Pepper Up Potion, wide bloodshot eyes fixed on the Potions Master.
Harry observed her in silence, noticing that the older witch hadn't been sleeping well. Honestly, the small girl wondered how Hermione was even moving, thinking and talking. With the amount of working she had been doing since the beginning of the year, it was rather surprising that she hadn't had a break down yet.
"Be quiet," Snape snapped coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization and professionalism."
Harry snorted.
"Do you have something to say, Potter?" He asked her, as if waiting for something.
She discretely patted James' hand as his fingers twitched.
Despite thinking that the greasy haired man was the last person on earth allowed to talk about professionalism when he didn't even know what such thing meant,the raven haired witch smiled politely.
"Nothing, sir," Harry said dryly.
Ron, however, did have something to say.
Puffing his chest up, he glared at the black wearing man with defiance, "He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had. You can't talk about him like that!"
Seamus hissed while the others gave the red-head similar looks of disbelief.
The tall, black eyed teacher looked more menacing than ever as he bared his yellowed teeth at Ron. Surprisingly, he didn't take a single point off.
"You are all so easily satisfied." Snape said, disgusted, "It seems like Lupin has been rather lax – I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows."
Now, that was a lie. Snape knew very well that no first year would have the right amount of power and control to deal with those magical creatures. But then again, the vampire-like man didn't look like he cared – All he wanted was to insult Professor Lupin.
Suspiciously, Harry observed as Snape flicked through a copy of their textbook, clearly looking for a specific topic.
"Today lesson will be about werewolves," Snape said after he found what he wanted in the very back of the book.
Harry scowled behind her own book, not liking the large smile on his face. Actually, she never liked it when he smiled.
A smiling Snape was a bad omen on its own.
"But, sir," Hermione almost jumped from her seat, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start on –"
"Miss Granger," Snape said, deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394 so we may start our lesson on werewolves." He glanced around again and when no one moved, he snapped, "All of you! Now!"
With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books. Harry helped Neville find the right chapter, noticing that her friend was a little lost.
"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Snape asked, hands behind his back.
Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except, of course, Hermione whose hand, had shot straight into the air and shook a little for good measure. As if no one would have been able to see her.
"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione like he always did. His twisted smile was back again. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between the werewolf and the true wolf?"
Ron opened his mouth to make some kind of remark about how they hadn't learned about it yet but was stopped by Fay Dunbar, who placed a hand over his mouth.
"Well, well, well," Snape tutted, "I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who doesn't even know how to recognize a werewolf when they saw one."
There was something about the way he said that. It was like a hint, as if he was trying to show them something without saying it out loud.
Knitting her eyebrows together, Harry tried to put the clues together.
Snape continued speaking, "I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"
"Please, sir," Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, said, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf –"
"That is the third time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," Snape said coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."
Hermione went very red, putting her hand down, and staring at the floor with her eyes brimming with tears. Harry pursued her lips.
Back in her second year, she would have jumped at those words, ready to defend her best friend. But Hermione wasn't her best friend, and after the way the older witch treated her during the whole Heir of Slytherin business, she wasn't even a friend. So, as much as Harry hated the way Snape treated his students, the thirteen years old felt that it wasn't her place to be Hermione's witch in shinning robes.
Not anymore.
"Hey!" Ron, who had made up with Hermione a little before Christmas, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"
The class knew instantly felt as the temperature of the room dropped. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.
"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. The red-haired boy made a face, looking disgusted, "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."
No one made a sound after that. They sat in silence, with their heads down as they made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape stalked up and down the rows of desks, talking about ways to identify a werewolf that couldn't be found in their textbooks.
At some point, Harry was staring at the blackboard, eyes flicking toward the dates written there. Snape, for some reason, had written down all full moons that happened during 2008 and that would be happening during 2009.
She was tapping her quill against the table in thought when James cursed softly in Russian. Harry checked to see if Snape was near by before she wrote down on her book and pushed it aside so James would see it.
What's it?
The small girl jumped slightly when she felt her Great-Uncle place his hand over her own, copying her handwriting perfectly as he wrote:
What those dates have in common aside from the full moons?
Looking back at the blackboard, Harry stared. And stated – It took longer than she would have liked for all the clues that had been presented to her to start making sense.
Oh, she thought faintly, oh… That makes sense...
Professor Lupin was a werewolf.
Two weeks into May, Harry found herself in the library, hidden away in the History section with James. She was working on Professor Binns' three foot-long essay on "The Influence of Wizards in Muggle Wars" when Ron Weasley's frustrated voice reached her ears.
"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short!"
Harry raised her head, trying to not move too much. Her Great-Uncle was using her lap as a pillow and she didn't was to disturb him.
Peeking through the bookshelf across her, she saw Ron sitting with Seamus Finnegan, Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas. They seemed to be working on their Potions essay if all the books around them was any indication.
Unconsciously running a hand through James' hair, Harry observed the group in thoughtful silence, waiting.
"Shhhh," Madam Pince hissed from somewhere in the library.
Seamus, Dean and Parvati rolled their eyes, sharing identical looks of annoyance.
Ron ignored her as he continued complaining, "Hermione already finished her own essay and her writing's tiny!"
"She's Hermione," Dean reminded him dryly.
There was nothing else to be said. That was the only explanation they needed to understand how the older witch had already been able to write so much.
"Where is she anyway?" Seamus asked without much care as he checked his essay, trying to see how much he still needed to write to finish it. By the look on his face, it was a lot.
Ron pointed in direction of the Defense Against the Dark Arts section, "Somewhere over there."
"Professor Lupin didn't give us any homework," Parvati said, confused.
The red haired wizard shrugged, "She is looking for books about werewolves."
"Uh," Harry blinked.
Ever since she found out about Hogwarts' resident werewolf, the small green-eyed girl had wondered how long it would take before someone else found out about Professor Lupin's condition. It wasn't all that surprising that Hermione was the one to figure it out.
What surprised her was that the older girl hadn't ran to the Headmaster or Professor McGonagall with this information and was instead trying to find more information about werewolves for some unexplainable reason.
"Why?" Parvati asked, arching her eyebrows, "We already handed over that essay Snape gave us and he already graded it."
"I don't know," Ron grumbled. "She has been acting crazier than usual. Mental that one."
The other shared another look. They seemed to be thinking the same thing but hesitated to speak up. After a moment or two, however, Parvati ended turning her attention back to Ron.
"Look, Ron," She waited until he focused on her before continuing, "Speaking of her acting a little – Er, strange… You're her friend, aren't you worried about her?"
The emerald-eyed girl leaned back against her chair, happy to know that she wasn't the only one who had noticed how tired and sick Hermione had been acting lately. Maybe one of them could convince Ron to take Hermione to the Hospital Wing.
Despite not being Hermione's friend, Harry was still her roommate and fellow Gryffindor. So, the small raven haired girl tried to talk to Professor McGonagall a few days after she found out about Professor Lupin's furry little problem. She informed the woman of how stressed Hermione was and how the girl hadn't been sleeping or even eating.
But nothing happened.
The Gryffindor's Head of House dismissed her concerns. The Transfiguration teacher informed her that Hermione was a responsible girl and that if there was truly something wrong with her, then the bushy haired witch would gone to the Hospital Wong herself.
So, Harry truly hoped that someone would talk to Hermione before it was too late and the other girl had a breaking down.
"Why?" Ron scrunched his nose.
Parvati looked at him with disbelief, "She has been working herself to death!"
"She's starting to get paranoid," Dean added. "She snapped at me the other day for day dreaming, screaming that I should leave her alone and stop staring."
"She's losing weight," Seamus pointed out, "That can't be a good sign."
There was a moment of silence as Ron let go of his quill and seemed to think about their words, knitting their eyebrows together. At the same time, Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked furious, hair bushier than usual as if she had been electrocuted.
"All books about werewolves were taken out," she growled, sitting down next to Ron who stared at her in silence. "The Slytherins and Ravenclaws took them all! I'll have to wait until Monday to be able get one of the books and –" The brown-eyed witch paused, snapping at the boy beside her who hasn't stopped staring at her, "What?!"
"You look pale," Ron said, squinting his eyes. "Did you eat today?"
Hermione was taken aback. It took her a while to recover, turning her head away.
"Of course!"
That was a lie, Harry thought, eying the way the other witch's hands were trembling. She couldn't remember seeing Hermione in breakfast that day.
"Are you lying?" Ron asked, now sounding concerned.
Any other day, Hermione would have been flustered and pleased that the boy was actually worried about her. But, instead, she straightened her back and bared her teeth, as if she was a cornered wild animal.
"What're you trying to say, Ronald?" She asked.
Sensing the danger, Harry tensed and scanned the library in search of Madam Pince only to find the woman missing.
Ron gave her a look, "Nothing! You just look sick!"
"I'm not sick." Hermione growled, "I'm fine!"
There was a flash of gold as she reached out to grab the chain around her neck and Harry paused, narrowing her eyes. James seemed to notice the way she tensed because got up and sat beside her, leaning closer.
"What's wrong, doll?" He whispered.
The small thirteen years old didn't answer, trying to get a better look of Hermione's necklace. She didn't know why, but something told her that it was involved in the girl's foul mood and horrible health. And Harry had long ago learned to trust her instincts with things like that.
"Look," Ron was saying, raising his hands a little, "maybe we should visit Madam Pomfrey? I think you studied a little too much today and –"
"I'm not going to the Hospital Wing!" Hermione practically screamed, pulling the chain of her necklace unconsciously.
Emerald green eyes glimmered with recognition when she finally saw the necklace. Harry couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"Merlin," Harry whispered in disbelief. "Is that – McGonagall won't have…"
She could feel her Great-Uncle's eyes on her, but didn't say anything. Harry was so focused on the necklace that she didn't even notice when James moved away from her.
"Leave me alone, Ronald! I know what I'm doing! Professor McGonagall won't have trusted me with it if I couldn't!" Hermione hissed, grabbing her thing and stomping away from the table.
Frustrated and confused, Ron stood up as well, "What're you talking about?! Hermione!"
Before he reached her, the girl tripped on nothing as she tried to leave. Hermione tried to hold onto the nearest bookshelf but it inexplicably fell over her and Ron, causing several people to scream and run to help, including Madam Pince that had finally decided to show up.
Harry stood up and would have ran to help as well when a familiar gloved hand grabbed her wrist.
Immediately, she knew.
"Uncle James," Harry hissed, "Did you do that?"
"They're fine," The invisible man replied.
Taking a deep breath, Harry looked back to see that he was right; both Ron and Hermione were fine. The bookshelf hadn't been as close to them as she had thought, having fallen just a few centimeters away from the shocked duo.
She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when something was placed in her hand.
Harry froze.
Slowly, the small witch looked down and opened her hand to see the golden, sparkling hourglass hanging from the chain that had Hermione had been using around her neck.
No wonder Hermione had been able to go to all those classes as well why she was getting so paranoid…
"What's that?" James asked as he sneaked his arms around her and rested his chin against her shoulder. "Charis?"
Harry licked her lips, still in a state of disbelief. She couldn't believe that Professor McGonagall (and it had to be her) had actually given Hermione access to a magical artifact like this one.
"It's a Time-Turner," She blinked a few times. "I just –"
Harry shook her head and turned her attention back to the necklace.
She won't give it back to Hermione, especially not after the way the bushy haired girl had been using it.
So, what was she going to do with it?
"Since when do you wear necklaces, Harry?" Fred asked as he sat across her, reaching out of a toast.
At this, Neville looked up from the Herbology book he was reading and gave her a curious look.
The girl touched the golden chain around her neck and shrugged, "I use jewelry everyday." Harry showed off her bracelet to demonstrate her point.
"Not necklaces," George said, sitting on his brother's left and stealing a sausage from his plate.
"Uncle James gave it to me, why won't I use it?" Harry huffed.
It wasn't even a lie, not really. James had taken the Time-Turner from Hermione and he had given the artefact to her. He had also convinced her to keep it but her friends didn't know that.
Not yet at least.
She would tell them about it later. But Harry wanted to wait until they were far from the castle before doing so.
A little distracted, she scanned the Great Hall. She lookedover the students' heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall and immediately noticed that not only was Headmaster Dumbledore missing but so was Snape and Professor Lupin.
For a moment, she wondered if something had happened and if it had anything to do with the Defense Against the Arts' teacher's condition. Had Snape, who had clearly been trying to get rid of Process Lupin, finally got what he wanted?
"Hey, uh," Harry turned to look at Neville as the boy hesitated, "Where's Hermione?"
George took a bite of his oatmeal, "Last I heard from dear little brother," He casually pointed at Ron who was eating from a plate filled with bacon, "they both had to go to the Hospital Wing after an incident in the library," Harry looked down slightly, trying to not wince as she took a bite of her pancakes, "but while Ron was fine, Madam Pomfrey told Granger to stay. Apparently, the woman was furious for some reason."
"Is Hermione sick?" Neville asked, surprised. Hermione had never gotten sick before and she was always pretty smug about it.
George shrugged while Fred replied, "I don't know if she's sick, but with how exhausted she looked the last time I saw her, I won't be surprised if Madam Pomfrey forced her to stay in bed so she would sleep a little."
Neville leaned back a little and nodded slowly, "She did look tired lately."
The boys changed the subject after that, talking about the next prank the twins were planning while Harry finished her pancakes and reached out for a cup of tea.
Just then, the mail arrived. Abouta hundred owls streamed into the Great Hall, circling the tables until they saw their targets, dropping letters and packages onto the students' laps or stopping for some food.
Hedwig fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a Muggle newspaper onto Harry's empty plate and waited for the small girl to give her bacon before starting to eat.
"I thought you didn't like reading the Daily Prophet?" Neville asked as she placed the newspaper aside.
Scanning their surroundings, Harry spoke very quietly, so that the other Gryffindors could not hear, "It's Uncle James'," She showed the front of the newspaper so they could see the unmoving pictures, "He likes to read it in the morning."
The boys leaned closer.
"Where's he anyway?" Fred asked as he eyed the newspaper with interest. He, much like George and Neville, seemed to be fascinated with the fact that nothing in that newspaper moved.
"He's either running around the Quidditch Pitch or the Black Lake. He does that whenever he can," The raven-haired witch replied, shuddering.
She couldn't imagine anyone voluntarily running around the Quidditch Pitch or the Black Lake. But then, her Great-Uncle wasn't just anyone.
As if he was summoned by his name, she felt her invisible Great-Uncle sit beside her. He patted her head and Harry smiled happily as she discretely gave him the newspaper.
She started talking to the boys about Gryffindor's next Quidditch match, giggling as the twins joked about what Oliver Wood would do if they lost the game. It took her more than she would like to admit to notice that while the Muggle newspaper was laying forgotten beside her, James wasn't there anymore. The green-eyed girl nipped her bottom lip for a moment, trying to understand why he would have left without warning her; he had never done that before.
Ignoring her friends questioning looks, Harry took the newspaper, noticing that it was a little wrinkled, as if James had gripped it too tightly, and that a picture had been ripped from it.
The headline under the hole which the picture had previously occupied read: WHAT'S TONY STARK'S VISION OF A BETTER FUTURE?.
She ignored the whole interview, frowning.
Who was Tony Stark and why he seemed to be important to James?
T.S
It was May and not even an hour ago, he had finished his presentation of the Jericho missile in middle of the Afghan desert to a large of soldiers who looked like they were children in a candy store as they looked at the missile.
Nothing unusual there.
Everything had gone as planned. The presentation had been perfect and followed the script to a T. But then, it was over and here he was… Inside a Humvee and surrounded by blank faced G.I. Joes.
Even with Back in Black by AC/DC playing on the old and ancient CD player one of the soldiers had brought with them, Tony Stark couldn't keep himself from pursuing his lips slightly, feeling unhappy.
If there was one thing that he hated, it was the heavy and uncomfortable silence hovering over all those sitting inside the convoy.
None of the soldiers tried to talk, be it between themselves or to him. For a moment, Tony wondered if he, in his expensive and clearly out of place three piece suit and tie, was that intimidating.
No, the brunette mentally scoffed, that wasn't it.
The baby soldier sitting beside him (And he was a baby. The kid couldn't be older than eighteen or nineteen) shifted in his seat. He was sending a few not so discreet glances in Tony's direction and, by the looks the other G.I. Joes were sharing, the billionaire wasn't the only one who noticed.
Observing them all, it finally clicked.
As much as he didn't like the silence, Tony finally understood a little why they were all so tense and unsure. He knew that soldiers in Hot-Zones, anywhere really, were pretty a tight-knit, and the sudden inclusion of an outsider – a civilian! – wasn't something that they were used to or even knew how to deal with.
None of that meant that he would start to like the accursed silence, but he understood.
With this in mind, he kept himself relaxed. Enjoying his drink under the harsh and unforgiving sun of Afghanistan and trying to give them time to get used to his presence.
"Dude," One of the soldiers, Kelsey if the name tag was to be believed, finally – finally – broke the silence, "He isn't sweating. Not even a drop. How does he do that?"
"I'm more interested in the ice," His friend, Jackson, replied dryly, squinting at the drink tumbler of vodka Tony was holding. "Why didn't it melt already?"
Tony arched his eyebrow, "Well, well, you guys do speak."
The two soldiers jumped a little, looking embarrassed. Ramirez, the driver and only woman there, used the rear-view mirror to give them a look.
"I feel like you're driving me to court martial. This is crazy. What did I do?" There was only silence. Tony decided to try again, "I feel like you're gonna pull over and snuff me. What, you're not allowed to talk? Is that it?"
The kid sitting beside Tony grinned, fidgeting with his orange NY Mets watch. The brown eyed billionaire could remember one of the soldiers saying his name before they had stepped inside the convoy… But what was it again? John? Johnny? Ah, yes, Jimmy. His name was Jimmy.
"No." Jimmy the baby soldier said, "We're allowed to talk."
"Oh." Tony drawled, "I see. So it's personal."
Some of the soldiers smirked while others tried to contain their laugher.
"Nah," Ramirez sounded a little amused, "you intimidate them."
"Good god! You're a woman!" Tony exclaimed, eyes wide as if he was in shock.
This time, those who had been holding back their laugher lost the battle; snickering and snorting with amusement.
"I mean," Tony continued, "I, honestly, couldn't have called that."
By this point, even the stoic Ramirez's lips twitched up to resemble a smile.
It was really difficult for Tony to not show just how pleased he was with this outcome. Instead, he kept going;
"I would apologize, but isn't that what we're going for here?" He asked, "I saw you as a soldier first."
"I'm an airman," She informed him.
"Well you actually have excellent bone structure there," Tony let his sunglasses slid down his nose a little so they could see it as he batted his eyelashes, "I'm having a hard time not looking at you now. Is that weird?"
Victory, Tony thought with triumph as all the soldiers, including Ramirez, burst out laughing and the atmosphere inside the Humvee seemed get lighter.
Hopefully, there won't be more silence.
Pratt, who was sitting beside Ramirez, turned around, "Sir, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes!" Tony said, "Please."
"Is it true you're twelve for twelve with last years Maxim cover girls?" Pratt asked.
Ramirez rolled her eyes, still smiling.
"Excellent question." Tony took off his glasses and made a motion with his hands, "Yes and no. March and I had a schedule conflict but, thankfully, the Christmas cover was twins. Anyone else?"
Jimmy the baby soldier raised his hand nervously.
The billionaire turned to squint at him, "You're kidding with the hand up, right?"
Jimmy grinned sheepishly, "Is it cool if I take a picture with you?"
"Yes," Tony replied, not seeing a reason why he shouldn't indulge the kid, "It's very cool."
Grinning even wider than before, Jimmy excited took out a digital camera from one of the pockets of his pants and handed it to Pratt before sliding over closer to Tony.
"I don't want to see this on your MySpace page," Tony told the kid firmly.
The kid nodded quickly and put a Peace Sign. Tony held back the urge of smirking when he noticed this by the corner of his eyes.
"Please, no gang signs," Tony informed him, not all surprised when Jimmy very quickly dropped his hand, grin trembling a little. The engineer almost sighed.
Kids those days didn't know how to notice when people were being sarcastic.
"No, I'm kidding, put it up!" He said jokingly. "Peace. I love peace. I'd go out of business for peace."
Jimmy beamed and both grin and Peace sign were back at place.
At the same time, Pratt was trying and failing to understand how the digital camera in his hands worked. Tony immediately recognized it as one of the ones issued by Stark Industries but didn't say anything, not wanting to embarrass the poor soldier even more as Jimmy, with annoyance all over his face, informed his friend which button he had to press to take the picture.
"No, not that one! Are you trying to change the settings?"
"You told me to click it!"
"I said to click the button on the right."
"What button?"
"The one on my right, you idiot, not yours!"
Ramirez, Kelsey and Jackson snickered as the duo argued. Tony's lips twitched and he opened his mouth, taking pity on Pratt when, suddenly, the convoy that has been driving in front of theirs exploded.
Ramirez buried her foot against the break and as his body was thrown forward, drink falling from his hand, Tony took a deep breath and looked around them with alarm.
"What's going on?!" He asked, trying to process what had just happened.
The soldiers were far too stunned and didn't answer. In a blink of the eye, however, all of them snapped out of it and immediately leaped in action.
Ramirez opened her door, rifle in hand, but she had barely stepped out of the Humvee before she was shot down.
Shit, Tony blinked, taking a deep breath. He could hear his heart beating against his chest as he stared at Ramirez's lifeless body.
Although Ramirez was dead, the others scramble out of the Humvee.
"Jimmy – Stay with Stark!" Pratt yelled as he locked Tony with the baby soldier.
At the same time, the Humvee behind them exploded.
Scanning his surroundings, Tony noticed that Pratt was crouched behind the hood of the Humvee, firing steadily, when suddenly – He was dead and the windshield shattered.
Unfortunately, the billionaire wasn't the only one who noticed this.
"Sonuvabitch!" Jimmy hissed angrily. He turned to look at Tony, "Stay down!"
Tony practically felt his heart stop when the baby soldier opened the door of the Humvee, ready to join the fight and avenge his friend.
"Jimmy!" The brown haired man called, not caring if he was sounding desperate, "Wait, wait, give me a gun!"
He was ignored.
"Stay here!" Jimmy ordered, slamming the Humvee's door shut.
The billionaire couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when, not even seconds later, both Jimmy and the wall of the jeep had been ventilated by a spray of bullet-holes that came right through the Humvee as if made from nothing but air.
Brown eyes blinked rapidly as he looked around him.
He – Tony needed to get out of there.
Taking a deep breath, Tony got out of the Humvee as fast as he could while trying his best to not be killed by a stray bullet. He had no idea of where he was going but he was leaving.
Alive, definitely alive.
He refused to die in the middle of the Afghan desert of all places.
His ears were ringing at the sounds of gunfire and explosions. And as he moved away from the jeep, Tony had already decided on a plan.
If he wanted to survive this whole thing, he would have to contact someone. At least give them a chance of tracking him down.
Throwing himself behind a rock, Tony pulled his Sat-Phone out his suit. Quickly, he dialed Obadiah Stane's number, praying that his godfather and business partner would pick up the call and that –
The brown haired man froze as a familiar sound reached his ears over all the explosions.
Slowly he turned in direction of the sound to find a mortar shell dug into the sand not too far from his rock. It was a smooth cylinder with two rounded ends and Tony – Tony recognized that design.
His eyes widened with disbelief as he stared at the Stark Industries logo etched on the side of the mortar. He wasn't stunned for long though, his whole body going alert as a low electronic whine came from the mortar.
That's Stark Industries anti-personnel mortar, Tony found himself thinking as he stood up, trying to move away. It has a timer, instead of exploding on impact. The timer depends of –
He was cut off as the mortar shell exploded. He had barely been able to move to safety and was immediately caught in the explosion which threw his body backwards.
Tony barely felt it as he landed on the ground, gritting his teeth aa he touched his chest and felt the blood there from the at least half a dozen tiny shrapnel that had hit him. Just he was clawing his shirt open to see the damage, Tony passed out.
The next time he woke up, he was tied to a chair and had bloody rags covering his chest. He was dirty and even breathing hurt, making it difficult to stay awake but Tony was conscious enough to understand what kind of situation he had been dragged into.
Staring at the armed hooded man reading something for the camera before them, the billionaire bit his tongue.
It looked like staying alive would be more difficult than he could have possibly thought.
But that's ok.
Fine.
This wasn't his first rodeo. The brown eyes man knew very well how this whole thing worked. Those guys wanted something from him and would keep him alive until they got it.
All he needed was a little of patience and before they knew it, he would find his way out.
He was Tony Stark – He didn't need to be saved.
You won't believe how relieved I'm to be free from this chapter. I rewrote it at least twenty times. It was so difficult to finish it that I already finished the next chapter before being over with this one… Although I'll wait one or two days before publishing it.
Anyway… Merry Christmas everyone and hope you liked this chapter. And please, don't forget to:
Review, Favorite or Follow and if you have questions/suggestions, just send me a PM.
-Cissnei.
TIMELINE
December 24, 2008 – Christmas Eve.
December 25, 2008 – Christmas Day.
December 27, 2008 – Trial of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.
January 4, 2009 – Hogwarts Express back to school (Sunday)
March 9, 2009 – Snape substitutes for Lupin again.
*Harry finds out that Lupin is a werewolf.
March 10, 2009 – Full Moon.
May 15, 2009 – Harry finds out about Hermione's Time Turner (Friday)
May 16, 2009 – James leaves breakfast abruptly after seeing an article about Tony Stark (Saturday)
May 20, 2009 – Tony Stark is kidnapped.