Whoever asked whether the Hermione subplot was for my own sadistic pleasure (*cackles*), then 1) You know me far too well, and

Whoever asked whether the Hermione subplot was for my own sadistic pleasure *cackles*, then 1) You know me far too well, and 2) No, it is sort of relevant. Sort of. Hermione's confused at the moment. Oh, and by the way. All you HP fans should definitely get hold of (If you haven't already) Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and Quidditch Through The Ages, the two books JKR has written for Comic Relief. I wear my red nose as I type…

Back to the Future (5): Retribution

Peter looked up. A tall, shadowy figure had just entered the room. He could hear muffled shouting in the background. James whipped the Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over Harry, hissing to him to be quiet. He himself muttered a few careful words, and he slowly dematerialised. Peter hadn't noticed this, however, because he was staring at the person who had just come in.

He stepped closer, and Peter could smell the alcohol on his breath. He walked into a patch of moonlight, and his face was partially illuminated. He was tall, and quite handsome. He looked no older than Peter himself, and he had a curious scar across one side of his face. Peter let out a relieved sigh.

Under the Cloak, Harry nearly fainted. This was the second dead person he'd seen in mere hours. Lucius Malfoy was standing inside the room, staring at Peter. Harry didn't trust himself not to speak. As quietly as he could, he placed a silencing charm upon himself. Fortunately, neither Peter nor Malfoy had noticed.

    'Wormtail,' Malfoy said coldly. 'Our Master sends his regards. Lumos!'

    'Lucius?' said Peter, in awe, as the room lit up. 'I thought you were meant to stay undercover. Even your son thinks you're dead.'

    'I had to speak with you. The Master has new plans. Faking my death was clever, but he has a better scheme. The Potter boy will never suspect.' Not wanting Lucius to blurt out Voldemort's plans in front of James and Harry, Peter interrupted.

    'Wouldn't you like to talk about this another time, Malfoy? I'm rather tired.' Peter was almost sure he heard faint laughter.

    'Don't be ridiculous, Wormtail. You must be informed, now.'

    'I really don't think that's necessary,' said a cold voice from the door.

*

Hermione couldn't sleep. She had crept down into the common room and was quietly sifting through some of her Transfiguration notes. But she couldn't concentrate. She was anxious: anxious about Harry and James, and wondering why they weren't back yet. She was infuriated at the both of them. Why can't you get yourselves out of my thoughts? she thought angrily.

    'Hermione?' came a soft voice from the door. It was Seamus.

    'Oh, hi, Seamus,' she said, patting the sofa next to her in an indication that he should sit down.

    'What's wrong, Hermione?' he asked softly, the dying embers of the fire illuminating his concerned face.

    'I was just thinking,' she said quietly. 'About Harry, and Ja – Neville.' Seamus looked unsurprised.

    'Where are they, by the way?' he asked. 'Their beds were empty.'

    'I don't know – it's just – they might – they might be in – in danger.' She could feel silent tears running down her cheek.

    'Come on,' said Seamus kindly, putting his arms around Hermione's neck. 'Don't cry –' Hermione didn't mind Seamus hugging her. In fact, he was usually very good at calming her down. Especially if she had been fighting with Ron. She laughed.

    'Ironic, isn't it?' she said, tears still flowing. 'Harry's always the one who looks out for me; protects me. But it's me who does all the worrying.' Seamus smiled.

    'Harry cares a lot for you,' he said kindly. 'As does Ron. They're both great friends. We're all lucky to have them.' Hermione nodded her head, and smiled.

    'So,' she asked. 'When was it you became the number one Philosophical-Psychiatrist-Calming-Down-Distressed-Teenagers doctor?' Seamus laughed.

    'My dad could always do this,' he said. 'My mum never got angry with him; he always calmed her down.' They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Hermione asked something she'd been wanting to ever since Seamus came in.

    'Seamus?' He jerked awake – he had been napping on her shoulder.

    'Yeah?'

    'You know that time when – when – Harry, he –'

    'Saved your life?' Seamus finished. Hermione nodded.

    'Yes. Do you know – do you know how he did it?' Seamus sighed.

    'I remember that night,' he said pensively. 'I don't know what he did, but I remember how strangely he acted. He came in here, completely silent. You were in the hospital wing of course, and Ron was with you.' He smiled. 'Harry came in, and went straight up to the dorm. Didn't say a word. But his eyes – I've never seen them brighter. And you know Harry – he's got the best poker face of anyone we know. I don't know what it was, Hermione, but to him, it was something important.' They lapsed into silence again.

    'Come on,' said Seamus, after a few minutes. 'Let me escort you back to your dormitory.' He stood up, and lifted Hermione under her legs. She giggled, but Seamus seemed not to notice.

    'I know what you're thinking,' he said slyly, as he opened the door to the stairs. '"He's madly in love with me, and now he wants to take me to my dorm. Gasp. Oh no!"' He grinned. 'You're all right, Hermione. I'm not going to do anything.

    'You know me far too well, Seamus Finnigan,' said Hermione, laughing. 'There I was, thinking I was attractive …'

    'You don't need me to tell you that's not true. It's unanimous, from what I've heard that you aren't.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'Harry. Ron. Neither of them ever stop talking about how beautiful you are.' There was no bitterness or sarcasm in his voice. 'They're right, you know.' Hermione blushed.

    'Do they really say that?'

    ''Course,' said Seamus, opening the door to the girls' dorm. 'But I expect you hear tales from Lavender and Parvati …'

    'Don't even remind me,' she said, putting on a high voice and raising her eyes. '"Don't you think Harry's hot, Hermione?" "I don't know how you can have stayed his friend for all these years" "Do you love him, Hermione?" "When are you getting married?" "What will your kids be called? I think Parvati's a nice name …" I tell you, Seamus, it's the nearest thing to the Spanish Inquisition.' Seamus laughed.

    'What?' he said gently, laying her down on her bed. 'Don't you agree with them?'

    'Well,' said Hermione. 'I just – I don't see Harry in that way, that's all.'

    'Fair enough,' said Seamus, smiling. He bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. ''Night, Hermione.'

    'Good night, Seamus,' she said, as he drew the curtains around the bed and left the room quietly. Of course I don't see Harry in that way, thought Hermione, before resting her head on her pillow and falling back into a deep sleep. Of course I don't …

*

   

    'Sirius?' said Peter weakly, staring at the figure behind Malfoy.

    'Expelliarmus!' Sirius replied, pointing his wand at Malfoy. 'Hmm. I'm sure the Ministry will be very interested to hear that you're still with us, Malfoy,' he said coolly, pocketing Malfoy's wand. 'Very interested …' Malfoy looked furious.

    'You didn't tell us you had an audience, Wormtail,' he snapped.

    'Evidently not,' said a voice from behind him. James had materialised.

    'Well well well. Even Harry Potter has come to join in the fun,' said Lucius coldly. Under the Cloak, Harry had to stifle a laugh.

    'Shut up Malfoy,' said James simply. He hasn't seen my eyes, he thought happily, that's good. Malfoy looked highly affronted.

    'Don't tell me to shut up, you –'

    'Silencio!' said James, cutting him off. Malfoy looked livid.

    'Right,' said James. 'Peter. Malfoy. You're coming with us.' He bound Lucius and Peter, and turned to Sirius and Remus.

    'What made you two show up?' he asked.

    'Screaming, Harry,' said Remus simply. 'Came from over here.' James moved closer, so that they could see his eyes. Sirius and Remus started.

    'Oh, hello, er ... Harry,' Sirius said, smirking. 'Shall we go back to the castle now?'

    'Of course,' James replied simply. 'Lead the way.' Remus bound Peter, looking, in James' opinion, as though he'd rather put the Cruciatus curse on him.

    'Well, hello Peter,' said Sirius acidly. 'Keeping busy, are you?' Peter flinched. Sirius laughed coldly.

    'No transforming this time,' said James evenly. 'Or I'll kill you. Remember the Mark, Peter. And remember Davies,' he spat, glaring at Peter. Peter himself suddenly realised that it was James, and not Harry, that was speaking.

    'Malfoy,' he said suddenly. 'You have to tell the Dark Lord. That's not H –'

    'Silencio!' said James suddenly. 'Thank you Peter. Now, follow me, all of you!'

*

   

    'Harry?' said Ron dazedly, having been woken by someone entering the dormitory.

    'It's me, Ron,' said Seamus softly.

    'Seamus?' said Ron, blinking. 'What are you doing up at this hour?'

    'Hmm … you remind me strongly of my parents when you say that.' He smiled. 'I was just putting Hermione to bed.'

    'Now that makes you sound like a parent,' said Ron, sitting up on his bed, his knees drawn up between his arms. 'Why was she up?'

    'Why else?' said Seamus, motioning to Harry's bed. Ron sighed.

    'When will she work it out?' he muttered softly.

    'What?' said Seamus, interested.

    'Hermione. Harry – he – it's just obvious …'

    'Do you like Hermione?' Seamus asked, completely missing the point. Ron sighed again.

    'I love Hermione as one of my friends, Seamus.' Seamus looked disbelieving. 'Shame someone else doesn't,' Ron added quietly under his breath, glancing to Harry's bed. Seamus looked lost.

    'I don't even want to get caught up in the little love triangle you have going on,' he said, sincerely sounding as though he would like to get caught up in it.

    'Let me put it this way. There's an old expression for the way Harry feels about Hermione.'

    'Platonic?' Seamus suggested.

    'Head over heels,' said Ron simply.

*

  

'We're here,' said James, turning to Harry, Sirius and Peter. The large oak door to the Entrance Hall that stood at the front of Hogwarts was just behind him. Peter and Malfoy, having been silenced and stunned, were now floating along behind Remus, whilst he guided them with his wand. Again, he looked to Harry (who had removed the Cloak after stunning Malfoy) as though he'd rather be performing Unforgivable curses on the two of them.

    'Where shall we take them?' Sirius asked.

    'Dumbledore,' Harry replied, 'he'll know what to do.' He was about to answer, when a patch of moonlight fell across the party.

    'Full moon tonight,' said Sirius lazily. 'Isn't it Remus?' He turned. 'Oh no,' he said softly, his face paling. 'Oh God! Run! He didn't take the potion that I made. Run!!' Harry stepped back, and stared at Remus. He remembered back to his third year, when this had happened. Remus had started to shake, and fur was sprouting all over his body. His teeth were becoming longer, sharper, and his limbs were stretching. Harry stepped back, falling over a tree root. He looked around for Sirius and James, but they were gone. In their places were Padfoot and Prongs. Harry watched as the bronze stag that formed his Patronus raised its head and charged at the werewolf, which recoiled.

The werewolf sniffed the air. He could smell a human, and nearby. He had to get to it … but he could also smell other things. Smells that seemed to have been wiped from his memory in time, but had now returned in full force. It couldn't be – but it was. The dog … and the stag. He remembered them. His friends … they would help him. It had been so long, so long since he had seen them.

He glanced up and noticed the stag blinking at him. The human smell had dissipated, but he hardly noticed. He was back with his friends … his old friends. He noticed the dog approach him. He softly nuzzled the dog's neck, not a sign of affection but of respect, and trust. The dog pawed the ground softly, and returned the gesture.  

Slowly, the three figures began to move across the grounds, away from the castle. This was another adventure; the werewolf remembered happily, this was another adventure with his friends. He padded up slowly towards the stag, which raised its magnificent head. It made a whining sound, and bowed at the werewolf, its personal gesture of respect. The wolf reacted by throwing back his head and letting out a long, low howl. The howl carried in the wind, across the tops of the trees, and echoed in the surrounding mountains.

*

Harry heard a howl from behind him. Remembering what Remus had said in the Shrieking Shack four years ago, he felt more confident that Sirius and James would be able to lessen his dangerous nature. The unconscious bodies of Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew glided slowly along behind him. Harry needed to tell Dumbledore.

After a few minutes, he reached the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. He remembered the last time he had been here, with Hermione. He had had to fight back tears, for seeing his friend so distraught had not been easy. Her parents had not even been killed by Death Eaters. It was Muggles – armed Muggles with (in Harry's own opinion) no souls. He understood some things; why, he understood a lot of things. But why people would kill for no reason was beyond him. He remembered Dumbledore showing him the Muggle newspaper containing the report. He felt that people of that nature could truly have no existing soul – they were feats beyond reason. He sighed, and muttered the password.

He climbed up the familiar circular stone staircase in silence. How many times have I been up here? he thought. There had been happy times, sad times, and times that had infuriated Harry. There had even been times when Harry had not really been needed. Dumbledore's office had provided Harry with more useful information than the rest of the school put together.

There was a possibility that Dumbledore would be asleep now – it was the middle of the night – but this couldn't wait. However, to Harry's surprise, he opened the door to find Dumbledore sitting at his desk, looking preoccupied, and softly stroking the top of Fawkes' head. He looked unsurprised to see Harry there.

    'Good evening Harry,' he said, s though Harry visiting him in the small hours of the morning was not uncommon. 'Ah, I see you have brought some friends.' The two unconscious men floated in after Harry.

    'Found Peter in Hogsmeade,' said Harry quickly. 'Malfoy turned up, so I stunned him too.' Dumbledore looked interestedly at the bodies for a few minutes.

    'May I ask,' he said slowly after a few minutes. 'How exactly you managed to locate Mr Pettigrew?' Harry bit his lip. He didn't want Dumbledore to know about James.

    'I used the map,' he said, figuring that he was not lying, just withholding certain truths. Then again, he reminded himself, that was a fairly good description of the process. Dumbledore fixed his with his piercing stare.

    'I see,' he said, although his eyes twinkled, and Harry could tell he wasn't fooled. 'Well, I will escort these gentlemen to the hospital wing in due course. 'Let me show you something first.' He pulled from his robes a worn piece of parchment, that Harry could see was covered in ancient runes. He laid it out flat on his desk.

    'You may remember me saying some time ago, Harry, that Sybill Trelawney has made only two correct predictions in her life that have been of importance. You undoubtedly witnessed the second – her prediction of Lord Voldemort's rebirth.' He sighed, and ruffled Fawkes' feathers. Fawkes stirred slightly, but remained still.

    'The first prediction was made by Professor Trelawney long ago. She made this prediction in a similar sort of trance to the one you described. That time, however, she recounted the details in the ancient language of Predactile. You may not have heard of this.

    'Now, most fortunately, this prediction was made in the presence of Atticus Davies, a former Minister of Magic. Davies was a very successful and popular Minister, and along his travels he had come into contact with Ancient Predactile. It took his years, but through his intelligence, integrity and determination, he was able to learn Predactile, the first wizard to do so for many centuries.

    'Davies was a contemporary and therefore good friend of mine. We studied periodically together at Hogwarts. Once, then, Davies was in the castle checking up on its state. This was in the days of Lord Voldemort, and I had recently hired Professor Trelawney, a recommendation of my old friend Nicholas Flamel, who I am sure you remember.' His eyes twinkled and he dwindled down to silence for a few minutes. Harry sat in memories, mainly of his first year, when he had been deeply involved in the plot concerning Flamel's prized possession.

    'On this day then, Davies was checking the Divination department when he heard Professor Trelawney talking to herself in her room. He climbed the ladder, and actually heard the whole of her prediction. As a man with a tendency to forget things, he hastily wrote down what he heard. Now, Professor Trelawney swears to this day that she does not remember this incident, and certainly never learned Predactile. But Davies only wrote what he heard. Therefore, he had written out the whole of the prediction in Predactile – it was an instinct.' Dumbledore cleared his throat, and looked sombre for a few minutes.

    'However,' he continued. 'Davies died shortly after that incident. Very shortly, in fact. I had heard of the prediction he had written, but I could only find one half of the parchment he used.

    'I set about translating it. I, of course, had no idea as to what the Predactile meant. As I have said, Davies was the first wizard in centuries to speak it fluently. Not that he did, of course, as no one would have understood him. Therefore, I began to learn the language. Now, although you may think I have done a lot, you must consider that it has taken me over twenty years just to translate this small segment of text. I could go into gratuitous detail, but that is not required. I will show you the first part of the prediction. It is said that Davies, being a man who defied convention, actually translated the second part of the prediction before he died. If it was ever located, the key to the mystery would be solved.' He turned and sat down behind his desk. He motioned for Harry to sit down, and laid out the piece of parchment.

    'Now,' he said. 'I know this is not one hundred per cent accurate, but it has most of the facts. Here.' He passed the parchment to Harry, who scanned it carefully:

For now and in this present age, evil

Pervades the land.

But fear not, good-doer

The saviour is at hand.

He will be the first-born son,

Of the Stag and Flower,

He will reign above all others

In bravery and power.

The Dark Lord's reign of terror will,

Immediately desist,

Though the Dark Lord will not yet go –

His shadow will exist.

 

    'That, Harry, is the first part of the prediction. You can clearly see that it was accurate. You are indeed the first-born son of the Stag and the Flower. It is rumoured that the rest of the prediction describes how the Voldemort will be defeated, though that may just be speculation.'

    'Sir? Can I just ask? Why are you showing this to me now?'

    'Because it is time for you to realise something of your past. You know, of course, that you are directly descended from Godric Gryffindor?' Harry nodded. 'Slytherin feared Gryffindor and his descendents, as does Lord Voldemort now. He – somehow – procured a copy of this prediction. He eventually worked out that 'Flower' was Lily, your mother.' Harry tensed. 'And 'Stag' was your father. I believe Peter Pettigrew was responsible for divulging that piece of information.

    'Therefore, when Voldemort was able to get to you and your parents after Pettigrew was made their secret-keeper, he came for you. He felt confident enough that he could disprove the prediction. But the rest, as they say, is history, and brings us to where we are now.'

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. So that was why Voldemort had been so desperate to kill him – because of the prediction. A number of loose ends in Harry's mind tied themselves up.

    'If the second prediction were ever found, it would explain a great deal. Still, as its whereabouts remain undetermined, we must prepare for what is ahead – things that may be unpleasant.' Dumbledore lapsed into silence again, and once more attempted to awaken Fawkes, who still had his head under his wing. In Harry's mind, something painful was occurring. He remembered his eleventh birthday – all those years ago – when Hagrid had told him of his parents' demise. He remembered the vivid scene that flashed before his eyes – he saw it over and over again. The flash of light – the high, cold laugh – and then silence.

Dumbledore seemed to sense that Harry wanted to be alone.

    'I think,' he said quietly. 'I will return to bed. Maybe you should too, Harry. You must not dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.' He bade Harry goodnight, stroked Fawkes one last time, and left for the adjacent chamber.

Harry didn't really noticed how he got from Dumbledore's office back to Gryffindor Tower. His legs just seemed to walk him back on their own.

His mind was still spinning with a million separate thoughts. All the tied loose ends had just untied, and were now floating around Harry's mind, demanding answers. But one image particularly came floating back – the image of Hermione.

Harry remembered the death of his own mother whenever Dementors approached him, but now, as though it had been imprinted on his eyelids, all he could see was Hermione being struck down by Avada Kedavra. I won't let them get you, he thought, as he lay down to sleep. They won't get you Hermione; I'll protect you. He rested his head onto his pillow and thought of James, dead but allowed to return. He pondered this for a few minutes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud scream.

End. Rats! I failed in my attempts. Oh well, the streak is broken. Mainly because I've had to do bloody SC1 Coursework and English Coursework over the last few days. Oh well. Here are my thankyous:

Jody (Thanks a lot. Will do), Kelzery (This Kelzemort doesn't scare me nearly as much as the state of your mental health *cackles* I'm just kidding. Thanks for the support, K), Anika of Prague (Thank you so very much), Ravenclaw Filly {1) (Marvellous pseudonym. Yeah, irony rules. Cheers), Ravenclaw Filly {2} (Yes, Cliffies are evil, aren't they? Oh well. This was up as fast as I could manage), Virgo Ruben (Great pseudonym. Thanks very much. Read 'The Paradigm of Uncertainty' and 'Draco Dormiens', by Lori and Cassandra Claire respectively. Cheers), Nicole (Going AQAP. Thanks a lot), Good old Twilight and Silence (I love you, TS. Yes I do. Thanks. I know this isn't as good as W, but it is good fun. Thanks a lot, as usual), someone2 (Thanks for another positive review. Thanks a lot) Biz The Insane Who Has Nothing Better To Do Than Read Fanfiction And Eat French Fries (Marvellous pseudonym. Isn't it interesting to delve into the deep social standings of the youth of today? *Cackles* Thanks a lot.) illusions2525 (Would I joke about something as serious as bigheaditis? Oh yeah, I would. Cheers), The Frog (Oh, you made that astute little observation about Hermione. Well, I'd love to say sadistic amusement, but it wouldn't be strictly true. Thanks), gumdrop (I love you. I really do. Smiley faces work on here *cackles* JJJ. 'Wie geht's' means 'How are you?' in German. I know what you mean about the God forsaken dictionaries as well. Thanks a lot!), seraphim (One of my aims in writing this was to make someone feel sorry for Peter other than me. Woohoo! Hope you didn't have an anxiety attack. Cheers), MischiefMagnet (You know, it's incredibly satisfying when people say things like 'This fic made my day.' It's a stimulant for excessive typing, too. Thank you), Kate (Nice and original pseudonym. And don't be upset about Ron too much – he knows it. Well picked up on. You're not the first person who's said it's confusing), Very naughty Little Witch (Hmm. Next part of WHmL, please. I love that story. Ooh, and Matchmaker. You're an excellent author. You can use 'Back to the Future', if you want. I'm probably breaking several copyright laws as it is *Shrugs*. Cheers), Minerva (Wow! What an informative review. Thank you), Good ol' House (You are too much of a star. TOO MUCH! You're beating the ol' spiky git by loads in the reviews tally. Hmm, unless I'm mistaken, you're probably the first member of my own sex to review the story. Cheers, my man), Mayleesa (Thanks a lot. It took me a few reads to make sure it all made sense too. Thanks), patrick (No, Peter's not getting killed {yet}. I need not answer you in W12, because I can do it now), Jenn (I'm very glad to hear it. Thanks for the positive review.) jj (How could I refuse to keep 'em coming when you ask so nicely? Wow! That's a first. A non-sarcastic sentence from me that could so easily have been. Amazing. Thanks), Chinook {1} (Stop it – you're embarrassing me. *Cackles* Thanks, Chinook), Lavander (Let's say I have good affinity with cliffies. Wow. Another one here. They're such fun… Sorry this took so long; I know you're a patient, regular reviewer. Cheers), Mladybug3 (Has this chapter made Hermione's wondering more plain? Yes, I thought so. I love you too, obviously. You, gumdrop, T&S {I would say House, but he'll taunt me endlessly with insufferable homosexual jokes – not worth it) Good old reviewers. Thanks), Genya Black (No, Peter is usually portrayed as mean and evil, sometimes whilst still at Hogwarts {Which IMHO is a load of rubbish} Thank you very much), Dragonessa Smith {1} (Hey, you have the same surname as me! Good for you {Andrew Smith is my real name, for those of you who really care}. It didn't take me too long; I drafted it out before I wrote it. My friend inspired me. Cheers), Dragonessa Smith {2} (Hmm. I'm sure you haven't reviewed for ages. What a varied vocabulary. Going AQAP, which is pretty slow what with school, piano exams and all. Thanks), Emily (Glad to hear you love it. That means I must love you for being such a good reviewer. Ha! Like I say, I'm going as fast as possible. Thanks), Chinook {2} (You'll stalk me, will you? You'll have to jet from Canada to London, and then get a train to Birmingham. Hmm, that'll be a challenge. Still, if you really want to come after me, I'm not complaining. 'Cause I love you. Hmm, I seem to be expressing my love for a number of ladies this evening. *Shrugs* That's life. Thank you {x2}), Lilly Potter (Excellent! Another person who sympathises with Peter. Thanks), VIHPF5 (You reviewed just as I was going to upload this. Peter is not going to Azkaban … yet. I'm far too kind for that. Last but not least, you are. Thank you very, very much).

Wow! That took me a while (nearly quarter of an hour). I love you all, some more than others, others less than some. Nah, just kidding, I love you all the same

Big, fat, gargantuan apologies are required for the patient readers of The Werewolf. I don't know. My brain has switched off entirely in the 'Werewolf' section. I will finish it, but don't hold your breath. If you're REALLY annoyed, take it out on me in your reviews. I'll direct you to the nearest mental institution.

You all know full well I'm not JKR. But actually I am, disguised as a fourteen-year-old boy. Cunning is my name. Oh yes. Ignore all typos. Oh well, see you people around …

Ciao