Chapter 15: Mortal Peril
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."
—Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling
Arthur and I both sprang to our feet. "Molly, dear," he said, grasping both of her hands in his as she began to hyperventilate. "Don't panic. We don't know anything for sure yet."
Tears were streaming down Molly's cheeks, and I turned back to stare at Fabian's hand on the clock, my mind working frantically as I debated the best course of action. Mortal peril—so was he injured during work for the Ministry or for the Order? If it was a mission for the Order gone awry, contacting the Ministry might result in awkward questions and possible repercussions. The last thing the Order needed was an official inquiry. So that only leaves—
Dumbledore.
Dumbledore would be able to help, either way.
"Stay here," I said firmly to Molly and Arthur. "Don't go anywhere or contact anyone yet. I'll be right back."
Before they could object, I sprinted from the sitting room and through the kitchen to the back door of the Burrow. I took a deep, calming breath as I opened it and pointed my wand into the dark garden, summoning the happiest memory I could muster. Although my kiss with Sirius was happy on the surface, the memory was muddled by far too many complicated emotions to be strong enough. My mind landed on this afternoon with Aberforth—"How would you feel about taking the name Ariana?"
"Expecto patronum!" I whispered forcefully. The familiar silver otter erupted from the tip of my wand and did a quick somersault in midair before landing expectantly in front of me. I then muttered "Expecto nuntium," the incantation to morph the guardian into a messenger, and brandished my wand from the otter to the night sky above us. "Go to Albus Dumbledore," I told my Patronus quietly. "Tell him: 'Fabian Prewett is in mortal danger and must be located immediately. I am currently at the home of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Please respond as quickly as possible with Fabian's status.'"
The otter rose up and nuzzled my cheek before zooming off into the night. I prayed it had worked. I ran back to the sitting room to find Molly and Arthur arguing heatedly.
"We need to contact the Auror Office, Arthur! They'll know where he is!"
"Molly—" Arthur began, but I cut him off.
"No, we can't go to the Ministry just yet. He may have been hurt during an Auror mission, or he…" I broke off, searching the faces of both Weasleys for any sign of understanding.
Arthur gave me a significant, knowing look before finishing my sentence. "Or he might have been injured on assignment for the Order of the Phoenix," he said quietly.
"What?" said Molly in a strangled whisper. "He's working with Dumbledore? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"They both are," Arthur replied. "They didn't want to worry you—"
"Didn't want to worry me?" Molly interrupted shrilly. "I'm worried about them either way! I can't believe you would keep something like this from me!"
Arthur looked ashamed, knowing his wife had a point.
"I've contacted Uncle Albus," I said, breaking the tension. "I informed him that Fabian is in danger and asked him to let us know what's going on as soon as possible. We can't do anything else until he responds."
Molly collapsed onto the sofa, crying into her hands. Arthur sat beside her, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Maybe we should contact Gideon?" he asked me quietly.
I shook my head. "No, there's no way of knowing where he is. His hand only reads 'work.' He may be at Hogwarts, but if he's on the same mission as Fabian, and my message gave away his position..." I trailed away, and he nodded gravely before turning back to console his wife.
"I'll go make some tea," I murmured before departing to the kitchen. I fetched the kettle from the hob and refilled it beneath the tap; performing tasks without the help of magic felt therapeutic, calming even. It reminded me of my own mother. Like the proper Englishwoman she was, Helen Granger's response to any news, whether good or bad, was a scalding hot cup of tea. I tapped my wand to the kettle and leaned against the counter, thinking as I waited for the water to boil.
Fabian wasn't supposed to die yet.
On the original Strand of Time, Dolohov had murdered Fabian and Gideon sometime in 1980 or 1981. Had this situation occurred the first go-round or had my presence here somehow altered the timeline of events?
But how was that even possible?
This was just another point to add to my list of things to discuss with Dumbledore. The magic of the Sands of Time was immensely complex and scarcely understood. This was something I couldn't work out on my own. I sighed as I gathered my hair into a ponytail and began to search for a tea tray.
We were halfway through our cups of tea, Molly thankfully no longer in hysterics, when Dumbledore's reply finally arrived. A blinding burst of fire erupted midair in the center of the Burrow's sitting room and a scroll of parchment fell to the coffee table between us, accompanied by a single phoenix feather.
"Fawkes!" I cried, jumping from my seat and hastily snatching up the parchment. "It's Dumbledore's reply," I said aloud, recognizing the Headmaster's narrow, slanted writing from his many letters to Harry. "He says to meet him at St. Mungo's."
Both Weasleys rose immediately. "There's Floo Powder in the kitchen," Arthur said, taking his wife's hand. I followed them both to the kitchen fireplace. "I'm going to stay back with the children," he continued.
"Wait, no!" I said immediately. "I can stay here. You should—"
"No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "You were the one to contact your uncle. You're our only hope of getting more information."
Molly looked torn, but quickly conceded. She then grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and tossed it into the flames, which turned emerald-green instantly. She stepped into the fire and said "St. Mungo's Hospital!" before vanishing from sight.
"Hermione," Arthur said, gesturing to the fireplace.
I hesitated. "Arthur, are you sure?"
He looked worried, but resolute. "Positive. Just please take care of my wife. Now go on."
I nodded and stepped into the flames. "St. Mungo's Hospital!" I cried, and the Burrow's kitchen disappeared in rush of green.
I stumbled out of the fireplace into the brightly lit reception area of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was far less crowded than the last time I'd visited, likely due to the lateness of the hour. I glanced around, looking for Molly or Dumbledore, and found Molly arguing with the witch behind the Inquiries desk.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't have any information on a Fabian Prewett at this time. Now, if you'll take a seat, I'm sure someone will—"
"But you must! He's supposed to be here!" Molly interjected frantically.
I rushed forward and placed a hand on her arm. "Molly, let's just sit," I told her quietly.
Molly shot the witch behind the desk a scathing look before shrugging her arm from my grasp and turning around abruptly. She stalked away and collapsed into a rickety wooden chair with her head in her hands.
"Are you sure you don't know anything?" I asked the Welcome Witch. She shook her head and apologized once more. I sighed heavily and turned to join Molly, but the portrait over the Inquiries desk suddenly caught my eye. The occupant, an elderly witch with long silver curls, had just returned to her portrait and was staring at me pointedly. She raised her thin eyebrows and gave me a curt nod, and I glanced down at the golden plaque at the bottom of her frame: Dilys Derwent, once a Healer here at St. Mungo's and a previous Headmistress of Hogwarts.
A whoosh from the fireplace caused me to spin around. Albus Dumbledore was emerging from the emerald-green flames, brushing soot from his midnight-blue robes.
"Uncle Albus!" I exclaimed without thinking. Molly jumped up and we both hurried over to him.
"Good evening, Molly, Hermione" he said with a grim smile, nodding to each of us in turn. "I apologize for keeping you waiting."
"Where is he, Headmaster?" Molly asked desperately.
"He should be here any moment. Alastor Moody has informed me that Auror Prewett was stabilized in the field, but I have no further news at this time."
"He was with Mad-Eye..." I murmured under my breath. Molly seemed not to hear me, but Dumbledore gave me a strange look. "So was he on a mission with the Aurors or…?" I trailed away questioningly.
"No, he was not working with the Auror Office when he sustained his injuries," Dumbledore said quietly. I heard a sharp intake of breath from Molly. "We hope to keep his exact whereabouts this evening quiet for the time being. Molly, I suggest you take a seat while we wait." He then turned to me. "Hermione, may I have a quick word?"
Before waiting for my response, he led me to a small, vacant room off of the reception area and closed the door behind us. The walls were painted in a soothing sky blue, and I had a feeling that this room was designating for delivering bad news.
"If you don't mind, I think it would be wise use the brilliant little charm you performed the morning we met in the Hospital Wing," he said in a hushed tone. "You never know who might be listening."
I nodded and cast the Muffliato charm nonverbally. He sat in one of the wooden chairs and gestured for me to do the same.
"I must say, I was quite surprised to receive your Patronus," he said as I took my seat. "And not only because the incantation for that particular usage is one of my own creations and not widely known. Would you mind telling me why you did not return to the castle this evening?"
"Er—Sorry about that, Professor. It was a rash decision on my part. I was feeling…" I bit my lip, trying to decide how to explain. "Very overwhelmed. The Burrow had been very important to me in my future, so it was just the first place I thought of."
"Understandable," Dumbledore said with a nod. He didn't look angry, but instead rather concerned. He was silent, waiting for me to continue.
"I didn't intend to stay long or even speak to the Weasleys, but Charlie saw me outside the gate, and once I told Molly my surname, she invited me in for dinner. I couldn't refuse. She and Arthur…" I broke off, voice wrought with emotion. "Their son Ron was my best friend. They treated me as one of their own children for years… I just had to see them, even if they didn't know me yet."
"I suppose I cannot fault you," Dumbledore replied. "But in the future, I advise you to keep in mind that although your situation is unique, you are technically still a student of Hogwarts. If you find reason to extend your leave from the castle, a professor must be informed."
I shifted guiltily in my seat and nodded mutely.
"Now, onto more important matters," said Dumbledore, eyeing me over his half-moon spectacles. "I am curious as to how you knew of Auror Prewett's predicament before any members of the Order of the Phoenix."
"The Weasley clock," I answered simply. He raised his eyebrows. "Or perhaps it's more accurate to call it the Prewett clock, seeing as Molly's father created it. It's a magical clock showing the location of each member of the family. I was in the sitting room with Molly and Arthur when Fabian's hand switched to 'mortal peril.' I knew we shouldn't go to the Ministry first, so I decided to contact you."
"A wise decision," he commended. "Fabian was on duty for the Order this evening, keeping watch on Lestrange Manor." I gasped at the news—it felt like ages since my run in with Rodolphus, but in reality it was only hours ago. "I take it you understand the gravity of the matter. It seems he was found by Rabastan Lestrange, inciting a duel. Thanks to your message, Alastor Moody was able to extract Fabian before the situation escalated further."
"Thank Merlin for Mad-Eye…" I muttered.
"Mad-Eye?" inquired Dumbledore curiously.
I grimaced at my blunder. Moody must still have both normal eyeballs at this point.
"Er, I guess he won't be Mad-Eye for a few more years, then," I replied. "But why was Fabian on duty alone? I was under the impression that the Order always operated in pairs, at the very least."
"Fabian and Gideon have been partners since joining the Order two years ago. However, after accepting the teaching post, Gideon has had more pressing obligations at Hogwarts. Our numbers have grown alarmingly small and no other members could be spared this evening."
"Well I sure hope this has shown the importance of having backup. Fabian could have died!"
"I am very aware, Hermione," Dumbledore said sharply. I shrank back in my chair, and his expression softened. "In the future, I will personally ensure no one is left without support."
"Uncle Albus," I said quietly. He looked surprised, but also rather pleased to hear me call him this in private. "You said the Order needs more members. I would like to join."
He sighed. "It would have been foolish of me to not expect this. However, you are not yet a fully qualified witch, and—"
"I don't care," I interrupted, "and neither should you. I've seen more than most members, and I know information that can help. You won't have to tell anyone my real story, but I can't imagine not joining the organization that's fighting for the very cause that brought me here."
He closed his eyes momentarily as if mulling over my words. "Continuing to deny your request would ignite a battle neither of us wish to fight. You may join." I beamed at him. "However," he continued, looking stern. "You and I have been tasked with a mission that supersedes all others. You are far too valuable to lose, so I will allow you join on the condition that you not participate in any situations I deem too dangerous."
"Fair enough," I conceded grudgingly.
Who was he to decide what is 'too dangerous' for me? Doesn't he know all I've done?
No, he doesn't, the nasty little Tom Riddle-like voice in my head reminded me. He has no idea. He'll never understand what you've endured.
"Now that everything is settled, I suggest we join Molly," he said with finality.
It didn't take long for Fabian to arrive.
Mad-Eye—no, Moody, I amended—entered through the main entrance of the hospital, levitating a Disillusioned Fabian on a stretcher. Molly rushed to his side immediately.
"Give him space, Molly," growled Moody, tapping his wand to the top of Fabian's head and removing the Disillusionment Charm. "He's stable, but we need to get him to a Healer."
Molly backed away, wringing her hands, but her eyes never strayed from her unconscious brother. Fabian Prewett looked dreadful. His robes were torn to shreds and his torso was covered in ghastly half-healed gashes. Blood seeped from his wounds, and I could sense the dark magic radiating from them. Were they caused by Sectumsempra? If they were, I could only conclude that Severus was far more involved with Voldemort than I had originally thought. Fabian's wrists were burnt and bruised from the ropes I assumed had bound him. His nose also appeared to be broken, judging by his bloodstained face and the large purples bruises blossoming around his eyes.
A group of Healers in lime-green robes rushed from the double doors beside the Inquiries desk and quickly transferred him to a hospital stretcher.
"We've got it from here, Auror Moody. We'll send someone out as soon as we can," a Healer said before whisking their new patient away.
"Alastor, what happened?" Molly asked as Moody sank tiredly into one of the chairs in the waiting area.
Alastor Moody looked much younger and much less scarred than the Mad-Eye I had known. Besides the obvious absence of his magical eye, his nose was still fully intact and he hadn't yet lost this leg. He seemed to have sustained only a few minor cuts and scrapes during his rescue mission.
Moody looked to Dumbledore as if asking whether he was permitted to answer. Dumbledore nodded and said, "Hermione, the charm again, if you please."
I cast the Muffliato charm again under Moody's curious stare. His gaze was much less intimidating without the violently blue magical eye X-raying me.
"I don't know much," Moody said gruffly. "Just that his surveillance went sideways when he was spotted by the youngest Lestrange brother. Bloody bastard Disapparated on the spot when I showed up, so I've got no evidence against him. If I hadn't Apparated smack on top of a thorn bush, I might've gotten him." He grimaced his disappointment. "Fabian was still awake when I got there, but I didn't get much out of him before he lost consciousness. Rabastan had him bound to a tree, the sadistic son of a—"
His voice was drowned out by a low wail from Molly. I put an arm around her comfortingly, and she sobbed into my shoulder.
"Molly, he'll be alright," Moody said. "I managed to stop the bleeding for the most part, and the Healers'll do the rest."
She sat up and mopped her cheeks with her sleeve before nodding silently. Dumbledore conjured a lilac handkerchief and handed it to her. She thanked him softly.
"My question, Albus," Moody continued. "Is how you knew to go after him? He wasn't scheduled with a partner, was he?"
"Ah, from what Hermione has told me, Molly and her brilliant clock are to thank."
Moody raised his thick, dark eyebrows in surprise, and Molly explained.
"But really, all thanks should go to Hermione," she finished, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief again. "She knew what do immediately. I don't know what we would have done if you weren't there to contact Professor Dumbledore."
I shrugged and ducked my head shyly.
"Molly, you are no longer my student, so I must ask you to address me as Albus. Yes, it was very fortunate indeed that my niece stumbled upon your home this evening, and even luckier that you opened your doors to her."
"Niece, eh?" Moody asked. "So I finally get to meet old Ab's daughter. Call me Alastor." He extended a hand to me in greeting.
"Pleased to meet you, Alastor," I replied as I shook his scarred, calloused hand.
"Well, I must return to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, standing suddenly. "Hermione, you may return as soon as you see fit. You are excused from lessons tomorrow." I gave him a small smile, relieved that I wouldn't have to rush back to the castle. "Alastor, I would be grateful for a status update later on tonight." Moody grunted in acknowledgement. Dumbledore turned to Molly and gave her a small bow. "Molly, please do not hesitate to contact me if you require any assistance whatsoever." Molly thanked him profusely before Dumbledore bid us goodnight and swept away, exiting through the front of the hospital rather than using the Floo.
"I guess all we can do now is wait?" I said, disrupting the silence Dumbledore left behind.
Not even thirty minutes later, someone familiar stumbled out of the fireplace.
"Where is he?" Gideon Prewett shouted, looking around the reception area frantically. His eyes were terrified, panicked. "Where's my brother?"
Molly quickly stood and rushed to tackle him in a hug. "Oh, Gideon! I'm so glad you're here!" she said, voice tearful again.
"Where is he?" he repeated, hugging her back tightly.
Moody stood before answering. "The Healers are patching him up now. We're waiting for an update, but he'll be okay."
Gideon slumped against his sister in relief. "He'll be okay," he repeated, eyes slightly out of focus. Molly led him to join our vigil, and he sat, rubbing a hand across his face. "He'll be okay. He'll be okay. But... what happened?"
Moody briefed him quietly, nodding to me when he reached the end. "Your sister saw he was in danger on that clock of hers, and Hermione sent a Patronus to Albus. Bloody lucky she was there."
"I wasn't in the castle tonight or I might have noticed his hand change too…" Gideon muttered, but then he looked up suddenly, seeming to notice me for the first time. "Hermione?" he asked, eyes wide. "But, what—why aren't you at school? Why were you at the Burrow, of all places?"
"I had some matters to attend to this evening," I replied vaguely, ignoring his last question. He opened his mouth, likely to repeat the question again, but Molly cut him off.
"She was lost, so I invited her to stay for dinner. And I'm so grateful I did." She smiled warmly at me.
"But—" he began, but he fell silent at the look I gave him. He narrowed his eyes, but didn't probe any further.
"The family of Fabian Prewett?" a voice called from the doors leading to the rest of the hospital. Gideon and Molly leapt to their feet and all but ran to the Healer. Moody and I stood as well, but we kept a respectful distance so the family could receive any news first.
The relief on their faces was evident even from across the room. Molly rushed back to us while Gideon continued to speak to the Healer. "He's awake! Alastor, he's asking for you." I made to return to my seat, but Molly quickly took my hand. "No, come with us. He'll want to meet the person responsible for saving his life."
Moody and I waited outside the door of Fabian's hospital room to allow Gideon and Molly the chance to see him first. The corridor of the fourth floor was deserted except for a lone Healer, muttering to himself as he scribbled out notes on a patient chart.
"So, you sent a Patronus, eh?" Moody asked as he leaned against the wall of the corridor. "Advanced magic, that is." I shrugged and he continued. "A messenger Patronus at that. Albus's own invention…"
"He taught me," I lied defensively.
"He did, did he?" he asked with an amused smirk. I opened my mouth to retort, but was interrupted by Gideon opening the door to the hospital room.
"Come on in."
Fabian was sitting up in bed, propped on pillows and looking much better than he had when he arrived. He was still alarmingly pale, causing his freckles and orange hair to stand out shockingly. His nose had been mended, though the bruises remained. His chest and abdomen were covered in bandages, so I could only assume that the Healers had been successful in closing his wounds. Molly was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand tightly, and I stood behind Moody as he, Gideon, and Fabian discussed the events of the evening.
"I have no fucking clue how Rabastan found me," he said, shaking his head, then wincing in pain. Molly opened her mouth to scold his foul language, but seemed to decide better of it. "Homenum Revelio, most likely, but beats me how he knew to do it. I was Disillusioned, but he cast some sort of counter-spell to cancel it out. I didn't know it was even possible to do it from such a distance. I got off a few good spells before he hit me with a Cruciatus." Molly let out a small sob, and Fabian patted her hand, which was still grasping his, soothingly. "As soon as he released the curse, he got me with a Full Body-Bind. Apparently he was in the mood for a little fun rather than a quick kill."
I shuddered and muttered under my breath, "Taking a leaf out of Bellatrix's book..."
"You got that right, missy," Moody growled. I guess I'd said it louder than intended. Everyone turned to me.
Fabian eyed me curiously. "Er—not to be rude or anything, but who the hell are you?" he asked.
I couldn't help but smile as Moody chuckled. "Lad, this is the witch that saved your life."
Fabian's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, so Moody explained.
"Shit," Fabian breathed when Moody finished. "Well, thank you. I wouldn't have lasted much longer if Moody hadn't shown up."
I smiled, but didn't really know how to respond. 'You're welcome' didn't seem quite appropriate.
"Well, I'm off," Moody said, clapping Gideon on the back and nodding to Fabian. "Got to get an update to Albus. Rest up, Prewett. I'd better not see you in the office for at least a week."
Fabian scowled as Moody said his goodbyes to Gideon and Molly. As he made to leave, Moody winked at me. "Reckon I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later, Miss Dumbledore."
What?
"I should let Arthur know everything is fine," Molly said, standing to leave as well. "He's at home with the boys. I'll be back first thing in the morning, okay?" She gave both her brothers a kiss on the cheek before turning to me. "Please write soon. I have a feeling we could be great friends." I agreed, smiling as she gave me a hug before leaving.
"I should probably get back to the castle…" I said, feeling distinctly out of place as I realized I was alone with the two brothers.
"Wait, I think I have a right to get to know my savior before she runs off!" Fabian said, grinning at me. His smile reminded me of Fred Weasley. "Take a seat, Hermione."
"Yeah, take a seat. I have a few questions myself," Gideon added with something like a glare.
"Er, alright." I pulled a chair closer to Fabian's bedside and sat. Gideon did the same on the opposite side.
Fabian opened his mouth to speak, but Gideon interrupted.
"Why the hell were you at Molly's tonight?"
I stiffened. "It's like she said," I said through gritted teeth, annoyed by his accusatory tone. "I got a little turned around and ended up near the Burrow. I helped Charlie name his new stuffed dragon and stuck around for dinner. For the record, the dragon's name is Norbert."
"Bullshit," scoffed Gideon. "No one just ends up in Ottery St. Catchpole."
"Look, I don't know what you want me to say. Are you mad that I was there? Angry that I was able to help get your brother to safety?"
"No, of course not, but—"
I needed to get out of there. Fast.
"It's late," I said, checking my watch. "I should really head back to Hog—"
But then I realized my mistake. I clamped my mouth shut tightly and shook down my sleeve to cover my watch, but not before both brothers had gotten a good look.
"Hang on a minute…" Fabian said slowly. "I have a watch just like that." He held up his bruised wrist, displaying the same heavy gold watch as the one on my own wrist.
"It belonged to a friend of mine," I said defensively. "I'm sure there's a lot of them out there—"
"There isn't," Gideon said, cutting me off. "It belonged to our grandfather. Let me see your watch, Hermione."
"No. Absolutely not. This is ridiculous..."
"Hermione, you know I could take it from you if it comes to it."
Fuck.
I unclasped the watch from my wrist. "Are you threatening a student with violence, Professor Prewett?" I asked sardonically as I passed it to him.
He shot me another glare before examining the watch face closely. Once satisfied, he turned it over in his hand and his eyes widened almost comically in shock. "Fabian…" he said slowly, holding it out for his brother to see.
Fabian's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Bugger me," he whispered. "It fell off during our final match against Ravenclaw…" He quickly removed his own watch and held them up together, side by side.
The two watches were identical in every way, right down to the damningly obvious dent on the back.
"Explain," Gideon demanded.
"I—I can't, you don't understand…" I stuttered, at a complete loss.
"Then explain it to us, because this is pretty fucking strange," said Fabian, still gazing awestruck at the two watches.
I scrubbed my burning face with both hands. I wasn't cut out for this. Harry should have been the one tossed back in time, not me. He would know what to say. What lie could I possibly concoct this time?
The truth, a little voice whispered in my head.
"Aurors are taught Occlumency during training, aren't they?" I asked them both.
They nodded.
"Fucking hell, Dumbledore isn't going to like this…" I muttered.
But I knew I had to do it.
"You aren't going to believe me," I warned.
"Try us," Gideon retorted.
I sighed heavily.
"I, well—this is going to sound insane, but I'm, er… from the future."
They both gaped, dumbstruck.
After a moment of thick silence, Fabian started laughing. "No really, what's going on?"
"I know, it sounds like the punch line of a bad joke, doesn't it? But it's true. For me, last week was 1998."
Fabian stopped laughing.
"Stop bullshitting us," he said, but he looked less sure now. Gideon was simply staring at me, blinking rapidly.
"I have no idea what I can say to make you trust me," I said, leaning back in my chair with a sigh. "And I can't believe I actually told you. I literally just met one of you and the other is my professor." I groaned exasperatedly and looked up to the ceiling. "How did this even happen? Constant-bloody-vigilance, Hermione. What a fucking joke…" I muttered to myself.
"What did you just say?" Gideon asked sharply.
"Er, what?" I asked, looking at him again and wondering if now was really the time to reprimand me for swearing, professor or not.
"You just met Alastor Moody tonight, right?" asked Gideon.
"Yes?"
"Then where did you hear that?"
I raised my eyebrows. "Alastor Moody."
He ran a hand through his bright red hair. "Where did you learn to duel?" he asked next.
"War," I replied simply.
"Tell me something else," he said quietly. "Anything else that might convince me."
"I didn't know you, but I knew Molly and Arthur well—they were like parents to me. They'll end up having seven children. Their sixth son, Ronald, was my best friend, ever since he saved me from a troll in our first year. And…" I trailed off, thinking. "I actually think she's pregnant now. With twins, but I don't think she knows that yet."
"She only just told us the news last week..." Fabian said softly. "She hasn't even told our parents yet. Twins? Really?"
"Twins," I confirmed. "Fred and George, possibly the best pair of pranksters Hogwarts will ever see."
Fabian laughed weakly, but Gideon hadn't stopped staring at me. It was becoming uncomfortable.
"How?" Gideon asked. "How in the name of Merlin did you travel back in time twenty years?"
"It's complicated. I don't know if I understand it enough to—"
"Try," he interrupted.
"I was fighting in a battle—a battle we were losing dismally. Someone cast the Killing Curse at me." I undid the top buttons of my shirt further to reveal the perfectly circular scar between my breasts left by the obliterated Time Turner. They both stared openly before I awkwardly folded my arms over my chest. "But instead of hitting me, the curse collided with the Time Turner around my neck. Next thing I know, I'm in the Great Hall, but it's empty. Well, except for Sirius."
"Wait, there was a battle in the castle?" Fabian asked.
I nodded grimly as I re-buttoned my Oxford.
"Bloody hell…" he muttered. "Where did you get a Time Turner? Those are heavily monitored by the Ministry, you know."
"Of course I know that," I replied, rolling my eyes. "And er, I might've nicked it."
"Nicked it?" Fabian asked, sounding approving. I responded with a vague shrug.
"Who cast the Killing Curse?" asked Gideon.
I gave him a hard stare. "Voldemort."
Their eyes widened in horror.
"Voldemort himself tried to kill you?" Gideon asked, aghast.
I nodded again.
"This war lasts another twenty years?" asked Fabian.
"No. He was sort of defeated in 1981, but then reborn in 1995."
"How is he defeated?" asked Fabian.
"I can't tell you that, mostly because it's not going to happen. I'm going to change it."
"Change it? How?" asked Gideon.
"I can't tell you that either. Look, neither of you can tell anyone what I've shared tonight. And when I say anyone, I literally mean anyone. I'd ask you to make an Unbreakable Vow, but I think those are pretty barbaric…"
"We won't," Fabian said solemnly. "This is dangerous news. If anyone close to Voldemort finds out…"
"Exactly my point. Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore are the only ones that know the truth."
"I take it Aberforth isn't really your father?" Gideon asked.
"No, I'm Muggle-born, actually. Aberforth agreed to help with my cover story."
"Merlin's bollocks," Fabian said with a low whistle. "You were bloody right when you said we wouldn't believe it."
I laughed dryly. "I tried to warn you." I turned to Gideon. "Now, can I have my watch back?"
He looked down at the watch in his hand in surprise as if he'd forgotten he had it. "Oh, right." He handed it to me and I fastened back around my wrist. "So how did you end up with Fabian's watch, anyway?"
"Er, well, Molly gave it to my best friend for his seventeenth birthday. His parents were dead, so Molly and Arthur were the ones to give him the traditional coming-of-age gift."
They were both silent for a moment, eyes locked as if in silent conversation.
Gideon finally turned back to me. "We're dead, aren't we?"
My silence said it all.
"I thought so," he said, unsurprised. "I hope we went out fighting?"
"You took five Death Eaters down with you," I replied with a grim smile.
"Brilliant!" said Fabian, making light of the news.
"I plan for that not to happen, either," I told them resolutely.
Gideon grimaced. "As great as that sounds, don't fool yourself into thinking you can change it all. Some things are just inevitable."
I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."
His statement hit me harder than I let show.
Fabian looked at his watch, which he'd returned to wrist. "It's really fucking late. Hermione, why don't you just kip here? It's far too late to go back to the castle now."
"Here?" I asked, looking skeptically at the small sofa near the window.
"Yeah, here," Gideon said as he raised his wand and expanded the sofa slightly. "We can go back together in the morning. Pick a side." He then used the Gemino spell to create two duplicates of Fabian's pillow and blanket.
"Well, I suppose…" I said as he handed me mine. He shrugged out of his Auror robes, revealing trousers and a maroon jumper underneath. The maroon reminded me painfully of Ron, and guilt from my actions earlier in the evening prickled at the edges of my mind. Gideon and I kicked off our shoes, and I curled up on one side of the sofa while he took the other.
"Only an hour after meeting her, and the witch is already sleeping in my room," Fabian said through a yawn as he extinguished the lamps with his wand. "Except in my fantasies, I'm in a lot less pain and not covered in bandages."
"Nor is your brother there, I hope," Gideon added.
"And the witch is usually in my bed," Fabian finished.
I snorted in amusement. The familiarity I already felt with the two Prewett brothers was strange, to say the least.
The room was silent for a moment.
"You do know that this is really fucking weird, right?" I said into the darkness.
Gideon laughed good-naturedly. "Go to sleep, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Professor Prewett," I replied.
Fabian chuckled as Gideon nudged me with a blanket-covered foot.
Approximately a thousand kilometers away, Sirius Black paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Nothing but moonlight and embers lit the deserted room. He paused as a clock near the staircases chimed the hour.
Three o'clock in the morning.
He groaned and scrubbed a hand across his tired face.
Sleep would not be finding him that night.
(A/N): As always, please review and let me know what you think!
