TITLE: Beforewards
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: Don't forget to leave a review.
SUMMARY: At Kings Cross, Harry meets someone other than Dumbledore. That someone sends Harry back in time to change things. Can Harry, with his future knowledge and new mentor, change his future for good? Or will this time travel not have the desired effects?
CLARIFICATIONS:
'Merlin talking to Harry in his head'
'Harry talking to Merlin in his head'
§Parseltongue§
CHAPTER: 23
"Harry."
"G'way."
"Harry, you have to wake up."
He pushed his face further into his pillow to emphasise his point and heard Hermione sigh.
Today was Saturday, it had been a full week since he had met with Death, been announced the Master of Death and accepted the Elder Wand off of Dumbledore. It had been an extremely busy week; on Tuesday when he had gone back to classes, convincing Madam Pomfrey that he was fine, he had been given the notes he had missed the day before and had been watched over by his friends like hawks, until he had snapped at them and telling them he was fine. He hadn't told them what had happened, letting them assume it was something to do with Voldemort, which was in effect a bad idea he knew. At some point he would come clean about the whole 'Master of Death' thing, but for the moment, both he and Merlin were convinced it was right to let them assume what they wanted. It wasn't quite safe for them yet and he didnt want them to go through what they had to the first time around.
Wednesday had been a full day of classes, Snape breathing down his neck in Potions and becoming more and more irritated as time flew by when Harry got potion after potion perfect (Merlin's influence, obviously), and then he had scheduled Quidditch training on the pitch, which meant two hours of fighting the cold and wind. Thursday he had Charms and Transfiguration, which meant that he was fighting Merlin's scolding voice in his mind when he got a spell or wand movement incorrect and then he had had a HA meeting. Or, not a meeting because not many people could show up as most Ravenclaw's had Quidditch training and the seventh years were holding a study session for all Houses (even if only a few of the Slytherin's showed). But it had been a get together all the same, with Harry, Hermione and surprisingly Daphne Greengrass going around and teaching everyone who was there the Banishing Charm.
It had surprised him, how well the Slytherin's had taken to the HA meetings and how well some of the students in the rest of the Houses were taking to their joining. Daphne and Tracy Davis had quickly fallen into a group of Hufflepuff's mixed with Ravenclaw's (Su Li, Padma Patil, Vivian Drew, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot and Sadie Wilkes). Draco, Blaise and Theodore had stayed by themselves, perhaps judging the room correctly with their fellow Slytherins and Harry being the only ones who really trusted them enough to be able to turn their backs to them and bow in a mock duel. Seventh Year Slytherin Louis Gage made friends easily with other Seventh Years (such as Gryffindor and Head Boy Trent Ryder - something that had shocked Ron to his core), Joshua Watts and Charles Elliot from Ravenclaw, and Joan Raquel and Lois Biggam from Hufflepuff. Harry had been pleased to see, after a bit of pushing and glaring from Harry, the other third year's had enveloped Nathaniel Grey into their group, making the nervous boy smile brightly whenever they cheered him on for getting a spell correct. In fact, the Slytherins had even began to congregate with other Houses outside of the HA, Harry regularly spotting the intermix of Green ties on the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, something that he hadn't seen before, especially not on the Gryffindor table.
The Professors had noticed; McGonagall awarding ten points to every mingling group she saw and Harry caught the smiles and raised brows she sent his way when he conversed in hallways with the Slytherin seventh year (the one who came to HA anyway) and other students in different Houses. Dumbledore had beamed brightly at the sight of the unity, humming loudly to himself in corridors in a way he hadn't done since the start of Fourth Year, before Harry had been selected for the Tournament. Sprout and Flitwick were beyond pleased, if their smiles and extra awarding-of-points was anything to go by. But Snape, well, Snape was Snape; disliking anything Harry or his friends were involved in, either directly or indirectly and had taken to taking points for "lollygagging" in hallways and on stairs whenever he saw intermingling of Houses. He was always careful to not take points from his Slytherins though, Harry had noticed. Not that that was any different than usual.
Harry had been trying to treat Snape nicer than he had done before, knowing what he knew about the man. He wasn't a brave, Harry knew that, even if the man had given his life in aid of the cause. He had been saving his own skin, and he knew that if Voldemort's side had won the war last time, Snape would have been more than happy in his position as trusted Death Eater. But Harry also acknowledged what strength and determination it took to be a spy, how sneaky and how much the eptomine of a true Slytherin Snape would've had to of been, and was still now. He acknowledged that the man gave details that could have potentially killed him over to Dumbledore and the Order, but he could never like the man. Not after going back in time and reminding himelf of what ti was like to have him stand right beside you and belittle you every chance he got. Not when he knew that Neville Longbottom's, a boy who had seen his parents be tortured in front of him, worst fear was Severus Snape, a Professor. Someone who was supposed to protect the students, not make them fearful of their every move. So yes, he had tried to be nicer, but in the end he had fallen back into a neutral state, something that seemed to rile Snape up more than when it was mutual bitter hatred.
So Harry was getting something out of it all.
And now, it was Saturday. The one day he had been hoping for a lie-in. The one day he had been desperate for.
But he had forgotten about Hermione and her incessant need to talk and terrifying hours of the morning. It was nine o'clock on a Saturday! At Hogwarts!
Harry felt the mattress dip next to him and groaned deep into his pillow, ignoring Hermione's small chuckle at his expense.
'You'd best just ask her what she wants, Harry. No doubt it's something important if she's in your dorm room.'
Conceding to the point, Harry nodded to himself (more to Merlin) and lifted is face off of his pillow for a millisecond, neck aching quickly as he did so. He managed to get out a small, raspy, "'Mione. What is it," before letting his head fall straight back down again. Hermione snorted and patted him like she was petting a dog twice on the top of his head.
"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute."
The nonchalance in her voice made him frown and immediately become suspicious. He sighed, admitted defeat, and rolled onto his back, looking at her for the first time this morning. She was still in her pyjamas which surprised him, she usually changed as soon as she was awake, but smiled fondly at the sight of one of his old t-shirts that she had borrowed in fourth year and never given back. It was one of Dudley's, which had then been given to Harry when Dudley had decided that he didn't like Mickey Mouse anymore and was massively oversized on her. She had paired it with tartan bottoms that reminded him of Professor McGonagall in a strange way. He didn't think he would ever be able to look at tartan again without thinking about his Head of House and her delicious ginger biscuits that she seemed to give out to every student who insulted Umbridge somehow.
He moved his hands to behind his head and locked his fingers there, being extra grateful to himself for wearing pj's last night (a dark green Tutshill Tornadoes t-shirt that Fred/George had given him for Christmas a few years back to annoy Ron and way-too-big discoloured trousers that had been passed down to him by Dudley, somewhat reluctantly given and accepted). Hermione tucked her feet under her and Harry waited with raised eyebrows for her to speak.
There was silence for a few moments, before Hermione sighed and tucked a vicious coil of hair behind her ear, "You know.." she winced and Harry frowned, "...Ron."
He waited for her to continue and when she didn't he said, "Yes. I know Ron."
Hermione rolled her eyes and nudged him with her foot. He moved away with a grimace that made the corners of her mouth pull up slightly before dropping back down. "Do you..well, do you think that he...I don't-"
"If you're asking me if I think that he likes you," her eyes went wide and Harry smiled at the blush grazing over her cheeks, "then I'm going to have to say something vague and stupid like 'I dunno, ask him yourself.'"
"Why do you 'have to say'-"
Harry shrugged as best he could in his position, "Its just what I, as best friend to both of you, have to do. I am only obligated to say those words."
Hermione arched a brow, managing to look regal and flustered at the same time, "And who said you were my best friend?"
"Well I think the fact that you're wearing my shirt announces that loud and clear."
Instead of sniping back, like Harry had expected her to, her light pink cheeks turned dark red and she looked away. He was about to ask her what was wrong, when she turned quickly and kicked him in the shin, smirking when he yelped in pain and reached down to grab his ankle. "Thats what you get."
"That's what I get for what?!"
"For...being vague. Yes, that is what you get for being vague." She sighed, brushed off her shirt and stood from Harry's bed. Just before turning and walking out, she looked down at him as he clung onto his foot for dear life and glared at her exaggeratedly. She stifled a smile before grinning evilly, "And by the way, Ginny is my best friend."
Harry gasped, his hand not holding his ankle latching onto his chest in mock heartbreak, "What does that make me?"
She smiled fondly down at him, "Harry. It makes you Harry."
He frowned again, "I'm not sure if I need to be insulted or not."
Her laughter echoed in the silence of his empty dorm room and followed her out of the door and down the stairs.
'She's being weird.'
'Nice of you to notice.'
Harry sighed and threw his duvet cover to the other side of the bed, pulling himself off of the mattress and moving towards the bathroom. 'Well, she was being weird. We didn't have that conversation or anything like it last time. I wonder what set it off?'
'Perhaps last time she felt as thought she had to keep it to herself, more focussed on you and your wellbeing than her own.'
'That makes me feel great, thanks Merlin.'
'Always happy to help.'
By the time Harry had showered, dressed in some old jeans and a hoodie, and gotten downstairs ready for breakfast, Hermione was changed and leaning against the deep red squishy sofa next to the fireplace and talking rapidly away to Ginny about something that was making the redhead frown. He walked over to them, using a leather strap to tie his hair up onto the top of his head messily. He really needed a haircut but did not trust himself, nor Merlin, to guide his hands through it.
He strolled up to them, smiling at Ginny who returned it, before narrowing his eyes playfully at Hermione, who rolled her eyes and pushed him lightly in the shoulder. He clutched his arm and groaned as though in pain, "What is it with you and being aggressive?"
"Its her way of expressing her feelings." Ginny managed to get out as they walked towards the portrait hole, before tripping from Hermione catching her ankle with the end of her foot.
"Expressing her feelings my arse," Harry said, grinning but trying to hold back his laughter as Ginny glared at Hermione, a look which promised vengeance. "She just wants to hurt us."
Hermione rolled her eyes, accepting Harry holding the portrait open for her with a nod, "Yes, because its my lifelong goal to see you injured Harry. How many times have I patched you up after an injury?"
Harry pretended to mull it over, feeling Hermione's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. Just when she reached up, he suspected to hit him again, he answered quickly, "At least a thousand. Maybe more."
Ginny snorted as they walked down the stairs, getting closer to the Great Hall and hearing the chatter of Saturday morning breakfast/brunch wash over them, "'Maybe more', as though you don't know it's been at the very least a million times."
Harry frowned, "I'm not enjoying the assumption that I am clumsy, Ginevra."
"And I, am not enjoying the use of my first name, Harrison."
"Tough luck, Ginevra."
He laughed, his voice echoing through the Great Hall causing some people to glance their way as he dodged her aimed kick at his behind. He turned his back on the Hall and walked backwards, trusting Hermione, who was walking side-by-side with him and rolling her eyes fondly, to make sure he didn't fall into anyone. He smirked at Ginny as she moved to join her fourth year friends at where they were sat, "Wow, for a reserve Chaser I was expecting better aim."
He chuckled at her when she gave him the finger, hearing Ron squawk from down the table slightly as they got closer at her swearing, but then hearing Dean mention something about how "Ron couldn't talk about swearing", with that fact being proven by Ron's immediate use of swear words. As he and Hermione swung their legs over the bench and sat down opposite Ron, Dean and Seamus, he sneakily watched Hermione's reaction to Ron out of the corner of his eyes and was surprised to find that she didn't even seem bothered by the boy's presence, leaning over the table to grab herself and Harry a roll each.
She did have a crush on Ron, didn't she? They had gotten together last time, in the Battle of Hogwarts. Why would this time be any different?
Merlin cleared his throat as Harry buttered his roll, 'Well, that was last time, Harry. If you think about it, this Hermione and this Ron are two different people now than they were last time. They have more confidence in you and themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if her feelings have changed, nor if Ronald's feelings have also.'
'But what was that conversation about earlier then? If not Ron.'
He heard Merlin huff a short laugh followed by a condescending, 'Young men. Clueless.'
Well what the bloody hell did that mean?
A/N: what did you think?
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