A/N: Ahah! It starts here... be sure to leave a review at the end and tell me what you think! Oh, and Trinity, good to know you're still reading- ff.net is so annoyingly fickle, no? Anyway, please enjoy and please review peeps!
Chapter Eight: The Unexpected
"Ah, here comes our star player now!"
The Gryffindor team was standing just outside the Quidditch pitch, waiting for Timothy and Darian to arrive. Seamore Walters stood slightly in front of the rest of the team, his eyes beaming down at Timothy as they approached.
"Remind me again why I tried out for the team?" Darian grumbled sarcastically under his breath.
"Because you're just as good a player as anyone else here and you're smart enough not to take Walters personally." Timothy mumbled back.
"Ermm… right."
Walters brought down his hand on Timothy's shoulder when they reached them with a broad smile. He only glanced politely at Darian before ordering the team to warm up.
"There's nothing I need to teach you," Walters laughed as they walked out onto the field while the other players mounted their brooms and took off for practice runs. "You're just as good as anyone else, maybe even better, so don't expect special treatment just 'cause you're starting out."
Timothy merely nodded and walked off to prepare his broom, looking back at Darian to beckon him to follow, but Walters grabbed Darian's arm before he could move.
"You however, keep clear of the posts, 'eh? Hah hah!"
Darian scowled and roughly pulled himself free of Walter's grasp, quickly catching up to Timothy.
"That good for nothing piece of s…-!"
"Darian."
"I'm just a big joke to him!"
"Just ignore him. Prove him wrong! Show him that you're just as good as I am… then he'll lay off both of us!" Timothy hissed severely as they mounted their brooms and took to the air.
"He loves you! What do you have to worry about?" Darian said hotly.
"I don't like him any more than you do. Stop fretting about this and keep an eye out for Tuvok, I haven't seen her." With a wave, Timothy shot up above the other players on the team to scout out the Snitch. It was a technique his father had used and taught him, and it served Timothy a duel purpose at that moment: looking for the Snitch, and Ms. Tuvok.
"Be careful." Darian pulled out his beater's stick and flew off to tackle the Bludgers, which were already closing in on Dole and Jane, two of the chasers.
Timothy tried to inconspicuously search the commentator's box and the stands for Tuvok, while making it look like he was just searching for the Snitch. Sure enough, just walking onto the sidelines, Ms. Tuvok came onto the field alongside Professor Mali. He made sure to keep as far away from them as possible, and when he moved to the far side of the pitch, Timothy spotted the Snitch.
It was hovering close to Darian, as a matter of fact, and he was frantically blowing off a Bludger that kept going after Pena Nole. If he kept backing up on his broom, the Snitch would be moved away and lost again.
Checking his path of decent, Timothy flattened himself against his broom and dove toward the Snitch. Darian, out of the corner of his eye, spotted him and gave a powerful blow to the Bludger he was fighting. He cleared the way for Timothy, and the Snitch fell into Timothy's outstretched hand as he zoomed past.
Mali's whistle blew and the team began to land their brooms for a break. Timothy happily jumped to the grass field and handed the Snitch over to Albus Moran, the Keeper, who gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. Darian landed alongside him, smiling for the first time since they walked onto the pitch.
"Make a good team, don't we?" he grinned.
"Told you." Timothy smiled back.
"Bravo, bravo! I knew I had made a wise decision!"
Tuvok came striding toward them, wearing ridiculously high red pumps and a knee length red sun dress. Her long fingernails were painted to match, and she grabbed Timothy before he could so much as react to her sudden appearance.
Timothy sent a warning look to Darian not to give off anything as he wanly smiled in her grip.
"Er… hello, Ms. Tuvok."
Her Russian accent was thick as she got close to his ear to say:
"I expect nothing less from you, Mister Potter."
Timothy couldn't help but let out a gulp.
She stood up straight and regarded Darian with a wiry smile.
"And you too, Mister Hall. Why, I believe you'll match up to Mister Potter here in time."
Darian had a hard time containing his scowl.
"Yes, perhaps I should match you too up, to improve your skills. I shall consult with Mister Walters about this. Mister Hall can learn a lot from you, Mister Potter."
With a seductive wink, Tuvok strode back to Mali, who had her eyes furrowed at her in distaste. Tuvok ignore her and pulled Walters aside. Timothy looked back at Darian, who looked about ready to implode.
"Improve my skills! Improve my skills?! I'll show her improvement on my skills! I don't need help!"
"Now, Darian, take it easy…" Timothy tried to calm him.
"I don't care what she is, who she is, or what she's doing, Timothy. I'm going to show everyone that I'm better than they think I am! You just wait, sister! I'll show you! I'll show you all!" Darian growled, and before Timothy could stop him, he shot back up into the air and began to beat the Bludgers roughly.
Timothy sighed and looked back at Tuvok, who had finished talking with Walters and was now watching Darian indifferently. Walters himself was busy scribbling on a roll of parchment, most likely issuing the assignments Tuvok had "suggested".
Yeah, right. More like ordered. Why are they letting her run everything? She's not the head of Gryffindor, she's not associated with the Quidditch department. Why hasn't anyone realized she's not just an ordinary talent scout? Why haven't they realized she isn't one at all?
He suddenly realized he was staring, and quickly got back on his broom to continue the exercise. It was clear that Tuvok was manipulating everyone connected with Quidditch that she needed to stay, and give authority. Walters gave into her every whim without a blink of any eye, is it possible she has him under some sort of spell? And what about Professor Mali? She obviously detests Tuvok, but says nothing when the woman acts on unprecedented power.
Something is very wrong.
Before Mali blew the whistle to signal practice over, Timothy and Darian spent another three hours on the pitch with the rest of the team. Darian didn't seem directly angry at him, but didn't say anything when Walters did order them to try some flying maneuvers with each other. Timothy acted as if nothing was wrong, but kept trying to convey a look to his friend to tell him that it was not his fault. Darian only grunted.
"First game is in two weeks, folks! Versus Slytherin! Next practice is on Thursday, don't you forget it! We better shape ourselves up if we hope to flatten those slimy worms!" Walters called out to them as they filed out of the pitch.
"You're not mad at me, are you Darian?" Timothy whispered to him as they walked to the castle.
"No." he mumbled.
"Well? Why are you so cold towards me all of a sudden? You know I didn't cause Tuvok to do what she did and said, nor can I control Walters."
"I know."
"So what's your problem?"
"Take a wild guess." And with that he broke into a hasty walk and went into the castle before Timothy.
Flabbergasted and slightly put off, Timothy ran into the castle after him, slamming into Luna Dine.
"Watch it!"
"Well, excuse me!" Luna barked uncharacteristically.
Timothy was too caught up with Darian to wonder, and went up the staircase two steps at a time before he stopped short again.
"Timothy Potter! Here, got a moment? I need you to do something for us."
It was Dan and Zan, the only two ghosts of Hogwarts. Timothy hadn't seen them at all that school year; rumor had it that the two partnered auror ghosts were quarreling so much that Dumbledore ordered them to stay below the dungeons until they settled- which obviously wasn't until recently.
"I'm busy." Timothy panted impatiently, moving aside to go on, but Dan flew in front of his face to stop him. Timothy did not care to walk through his icy vaporous body.
"Oh, please! We need another opinion!"
"You're parents are aurors, perhaps you'll know!" Zan crossed her arms, floating off to the side.
"They don't tell me much," Timothy said quickly, darting around Dan. "I'm not one to ask."
"You're sure to know something! C'mon!"
"We just need to know who's stronger in the anti-dark arts, men or women?" Zan asked quickly.
Timothy stopped struggling to get past and blinked at them.
"You're asking me? How am I to know?"
Dan and Zan looked at each other.
"Maybe your father has said something? He is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Order of Merlin, First Class."
"You're mother, surely! Harry's not the only one with the Order of Merlin, First Class!"
"My parents are both great and talented at what they do. How else did they defeat the dark lord if they didn't work together? The individual doesn't matter, it's the team. My dad told me that, and my mum agrees. Maybe if you two started listening to each other instead of bickering senselessly, you'll find your answer." Timothy said, and he left the two awestruck ghosts to themselves to continue looking for Darian.
He didn't find him until he reached their dorm room, where he half-expected him to be in the first place. John was sitting by Darian's side, and gave Timothy a warning look not to pursue any questions just yet. Confused and upset, Timothy decided to go for a walk.
Most of the school was in their common rooms and in their dorms when Timothy walked back out of the castle and into the cool air of evening. He walked out to the lake and leaned against the oak tree, watching the water.
"Darian's stupid if he thinks that it's my fault that Walters and Tuvok favors me. I mean, Tuvok has an obvious plot out against me! This is all just part of her plan, most likely." Timothy grumbled.
"So that's what's wrong, 'eh wild one?"
Timothy looked up into the oak's branches and saw Jeff perched on one of the lower limbs, watching him closely with his large owl eyes.
"Yeah, so?" he shrugged up at him.
Jeff lifted off the branch and came to land tentatively on Timothy's shoulder, giving him a piercing stare.
"Let Darian blow off his steam. He's smart enough to realize eventually that he was wrong. Just give him some space to think it out."
"But I didn't do anything!" Timothy shouted.
"Hey, I'm three inches from you, can you yell any louder?!" Jeff shouted back, shaking his head vigorously.
"Sorry," Timothy colored slightly. "It's just that he's my friend and having him being mad at me for no reason gets on my nerves."
"Darian has enough maturity right now to fill a shot glass," Jeff mumbled. "Like I said, give him time and he'll come around."
"Maybe you're right." Timothy sighed, looking back out at the lake.
"Of course I am! I'm only the wisest talking owl there is!"
"OK, but I'll remember your wisdom if it doesn't work out, and get back to you." Timothy pointed a finger at him.
"The great Jeff is never wrong!" Jeff grinned as best he could with a beak.
"Oh yeah? What about that one time when I was little that you told me that human babies hatched from eggs?"
"In a sense they are."
"Or the time you told me that eating carrots would turn me orange?"
"Eat enough of them and you would have."
"How about the time you told me that my socks would come alive and eat my feet if I didn't change them every day?"
"OK, you got me there."
"I rest my case." Timothy smiled and began to walk back to the castle.
"I know what I'm saying this time, though!" Jeff insisted as they walked off.
"Sure."
"No, really! Listen to me I-… hey, you hear that?" Jeff squeezed his talons on Timothy's shoulder, making him wince in slight pain.
"Hear what? Ouch, Jeff, you're hurting me!"
"Something else moving in the grass. Listen!" Jeff focused his eyes behind them in the grass, and Timothy turned to look where he was looking. The only movement was the wind moving over the grass, and Timothy rolled his eyes and began to move on again.
"I don't see anything."
"But I heard something moving!"
"It was just us you were hearing. Geez, you've become even more paranoid as a bird!"
"I'm not paranoid!" Jeff cried defensively.
"Right."
"No really!"
****
"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Potter."
"I can't believe it's you!"
"Am I that unbelievable?"
"No, it's just… now I feel so old."
"I'm hardly as old as I look, I assure you."
Mary Peacecraft had finally managed to meet with Harry and Renee Potter after an auror's meeting they had in one of the offices at the Ministry. They sat themselves down in one of the smaller conference rooms, and while Peacecraft could feel a warm and pleasant vibe coming from Harry, she could sense that Renee knew that she was not meeting them on casual business. The look in the deep blue eyes of Timothy's mother seemed to look into her like another empath would, but Renee was not an empath.
"What brings you to us after all this time, Ms. Peacecraft?" Renee smiled calmly.
"Well, as you may know, I'm a professor at Hogwarts for divination." She explained. "I've had the pleasure of coming across your young son, Timothy."
"Really?" Harry smiled proudly. "He hasn't done anything wrong, has he?"
"Oh no," Peacecraft laughed. "Nothing of the sort, that I know of. Although, he's so much like you, Harry, that I wouldn't be surprised."
"If he does take after me, I doubt we'll ever know everything that he does at Hogwarts." He tried to hide a grin, while Renee gave him a sidelong glare.
"What is it that concerns you, though?" Renee addressed Peacecraft quietly. The direct question struck her by surprise; Renee had unprecedented powers.
Peacecraft did a quick mental check of anyone outside the room who might be nearby to listen, put a silencing spell around them, and cleared her throat.
"It has been brought to my attention by one of Timothy's closest friends, John Stanton, that there is something going on at the school that involves your son. John, like myself, is an empath, and over the summer experienced a reoccurring vision that somehow involves Timothy. Meanwhile, as you may already know by letters from him, there is a Quidditch talent scout on the grounds that has a particular fondness for Timothy. I'm am unsure if the two are connected."
"Who is the talent scout? Why would she have anything to do with a vision concerning Timothy?" Harry asked, all amusement gone.
"I have not met this talent scout, for she isn't one at all. John was able to sense that this woman is blocking her mental vibes to the outside, meaning that she is an empath like myself. The only reason to block your feelings from anyone is if you have something to hide- and she knows that there are empaths at the school. I believe that is why I have not come across her, she's making sure that any adult empaths can't come close enough to sense that she's up to something. As for her connected to Timothy, I am not sure what her motives are. Only that she chose him for the Quidditch position almost immediately, and also motioned for his friend Darian to be admitted as well. From what I know, Darian was not a prime candidate after an embarrassing incident involving one of the goal posts. She has singled the two out, and this is what concerns me."
The looks on Harry and Renee's faces were of total concentration and focus. Renee, apparently, instinctively reached out for Harry's hand and took it.
"This brings me to the main reason why I have come to see the two of you in person." Peacecraft took a deep breath and cleared her throat again. "Both of you are aware that your son has a destiny, much like you yourselves had."
They nodded. "Yes."
"As an empath, I have an oath to the unwritten law that it is forbidden to read into a person's mind without permission of that person. Let me assure you, that I have not invaded on Timothy's consciousness. However, as you know, he radiates a distinctive power that originates down deep through his blood. His destiny is far greater than anyone can imagine, but I would like to know if you know anything more than that."
"We knew from the moment he was born that he was very important. More important than us." Harry said quietly.
"It's up to him to destroy Malfoy." Renee whispered, her eyes downcast.
"Yes. That is part of his quest, which is part of his destiny." Peacecraft nodded.
"Quest?" Harry looked at her sharply. "What quest?"
Peacecraft sighed inside of herself, it was apparent that Timothy's parents did not know of anything that could be helpful.
"I do not know what it is he has to do, but the part that makes Timothy's destiny far greater is the fact that he has been sent on a quest."
"Who? Who sent him?" Renee pressed.
"I do not know. You must understand that there is nothing you can do to help him, except to be there for support. The final battle must be waged by him alone."
"We know." Harry sighed heavily, looking at Renee.
"Is there nothing more you can tell me that you think could be helpful?" Peacecraft looked at them both.
They shook their heads.
"No… why? What does this other empath want to do with our son?"
"That is exactly what I want to find out." Peacecraft got to her feet; Harry and Renee stood up to see her out.
"Thank you for telling us about this, Mary," Harry put his arm around Renee's shoulders. "I'm sure Timothy never would have."
"And it's important that he doesn't know I told you. You should act as you normally do- it would worry him that you both know. He's already greatly stressed with the knowledge of the task that has been befallen on him. Normalcy, as much as possible these days, is best for Timothy right now." She reached for the door and paused a moment.
"Oh, by the way, Gryffindor's first game is in two weeks. I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore would love to meet with you at that time, if you catch my meaning."
They both smiled and nodded.
"That's one meeting I don't want to miss." Harry beamed.
****
There were six practice sessions before the first game, and Timothy had never had more intense training in Quidditch before. Tuvok was still observing and giving Walters "pointers" on where to improve the players. As result, Timothy was paired with Darian and every day Timothy was praised and Darian was corrected. It made the practices almost unbearable as the growing competition between them grew. Timothy tried to talk with him, but it was no use. Darian seemed to blame Timothy for all of his mistakes. Timothy's impatience with him finally won him over and he gave up trying to make a mend. The game in which they both loved was tearing their friendship apart.
"This is ridiculous," John rolled his eyes in exasperation as he was put between them at dinner a few nights before the first match. "You know that the only reason this is happening to the two of you is because of that woman!"
"I don't care who or what she is," Darian grumbled, not looking up from his plate. "In order for me to keep up with the team I have to improve my skills! And if I have to be paired with a know-it-all hotshot, by all means am I going to improve! Just to prove that I'm really the better player!"
Timothy stabbed his meat angrily at hearing Darian's words, hitting the plate a little too hard and sending the piece of meat to go soaring into the air and land on Carla Haughton's head.
"WHO DID THAT? I DEMAND TO KNOW!" She stood up and shook the gravy-coated piece of meat from her blonde hair.
Normally, the situation would make the three of them burst out laughing. Timothy glanced over at Darian, who was making an effort not to look. John looked at them both expectantly, waiting for a reaction. But no one uttered a single giggle, and they continued to eat silently as Carla continued to berate her entire table for a confession.
The night before the first game, Timothy sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at the old key that was the first clue to his quest. There was no one to talk to about it; John was having a lesson with Peacecraft and Darian was anywhere but where Timothy was. He sighed loudly, thinking back to his parents and how much he missed them. What would they say to comfort him about this quest if he were to tell them? But he couldn't… they would never believe him.
He laid back on his bed, rolling the key around in his fingers, when a thought occurred to him. Perhaps his uncle's diary could bring him some piece of mind. He put away the key and reached under his pillow to pull out the worn book. Flipping a few pages, he landed on one that he hadn't read before:
What should I do? My friend Jason got mad at me today because I transfigured our coconut into a crab quicker than he did. Even though he could do it too, while a lot of other kids in our class didn't even get it to change red, Jason still got mad and now he won't talk to me. It's real weird, 'cause we always hang out and now he ignores me when he can. Mom says I should apologize, but dad argued that there was nothing for me to apologize for. 'He's just jealous' James told me. He's right, I guess. But how long do I have to wait alone until Jason realizes that himself?
~Timothy Springs
1979
The similarities were startling. Again, his uncle had faced some problems very much like he was having. While the entry didn't help him on what it was he could do, it was comforting to know that his uncle was in the same situation once before. Darian was jealous, and Timothy realized that he just had to wait for him to admit it. Perhaps after that, their friendship would be saved.
The door opened and Darian quietly walked in. Timothy quickly shut the diary and dropped it in his pocket along with the key. Darian didn't so much as glance at him as he got his pajamas on and pulled the curtains around his bed before climbing inside. When the only sounds were of Darian's regular breathing, Timothy sighed and pulled his covers over him without changing.
Perhaps things will change tomorrow, once we win. He thought as he fell asleep.
Everyone in Gryffindor was excited and energetic the following morning. Bran woke Timothy and Darian up early so that the team could discuss the upcoming game over breakfast before the crowd. However, they could hardly hear themselves think as they ate for the entire school had woken up early in the anticipation of the first match.
"Be sure and eat everything," Walters yawned, pushing his eggs around with a fork. "We all need to be at our best out there."
"I'm at my best every time I'm out there." Timothy heard Darian grumble from across the table. He had been hoping that the jitters before the game would allow him and Darian to reconcile their differences, but Darian continued his ignorance. Bran noticed Timothy staring at him and leaned over to whisper:
"So, what's up with you two, 'eh? You don't speak anymore outside the pitch."
Timothy shrugged and munched on a piece of toast.
"He ain't jealous of you, is he?" Bran whispered while looking over at Darian, who was hunched over his plate.
"I 'spose." Timothy said with relief to be talking to someone about the problem.
"Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Once we win and he realizes how much of a difference he makes, he'll come crawling back and beg forgiveness. You just wait." Bran went back to his eggs.
Timothy considered that thought a moment, thinking that that just might happen, when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Professor Peacecraft, and she looked very grim.
"Yes, Professor?" he asked slowly. Darian looked up momentarily from his plate.
"I need to speak with you, do you have a moment?"
"Er…" he looked over at Walters, who had a vague curious expression on his face. "Yeah, sure."
He got up and followed her to the door while Darian went back to his food. Once outside the Great Hall, Peacecraft immediately put a silencing spell around them so that no one would overhear.
"Something has happened." She said grimly.
"Is my family Ok?" Timothy immediately felt scared, afraid that Malfoy had found his family and something dreadful had happened.
To his relief, she gave him a faint smile.
"No, you're family is perfectly alright. But I'm afraid the same does not apply for John's." Peacecraft frowned as she finished her sentence.
"What happened? Where is John, anyway?"
"Death Eaters attacked his parents' home last night. John's parents were hit several times with the Cruciatus curse. Fortunately, they weren't killed. By the time some aurors from the Circle showed up, the Death Eaters were gone. John has gone to be with them at St. Mungo's."
Timothy took a deep breath of relief.
"Timothy, I have a feeling this may have something to do with that Tuvok woman. I'm not sure how or why, but please stay very clear of her today. This incident may not be just coincidence that it should take John away at this time." Peacecraft warned him.
"What does an attack on John's parents have to do with Tuvok?"
"To get John away. He's the only other empath here at Hogwarts. There is no reason for me to be anywhere close to her, and only John gets close because of you. Without John close to you, you won't be able to sense if she's going to do something. However, I can go down to the pitch today with the excuse to watch the match. Perhaps I can find out more about her. Just keep out of her way, understand?"
"Yes, Professor." Timothy replied.
"Now, good luck on the game. Try not to worry."
"I will." He turned to go back into the Great Hall.
"Oh, and Timothy?"
He looked back at her.
"Darian doesn't realize how he's acting. Just be there for him as a friend, and he'll eventually come around."
Timothy nodded, furrowing his brow, and walked back inside.
He tried his best to warm up to Darian throughout the day, but he merely shrugged him off. Eventually Timothy gave up and left him alone, trying hard to concentrate on his lessons but without avail. When it finally came time to get ready for the match, Timothy quickly gathered his uniform and his broom to get out onto the pitch.
In the locker room, Walters gave the team a last pep talk before the din of voices from the crowd out in the stands became too distracting and he dismissed them to file outside. Darian remained silent the whole time, clutching his broom and his Beater's stick, in line right behind Walters. They walked out first, closely followed by the Chasers- Pena, Jane, and Dole. Albus Moran, the Keeper, walked out next, giving Timothy a small wink as he fell into place behind him.
"And here comes the GRYFFINDOR TEAM!" shouted Will Parry, the commentator.
The applause startled Timothy, walking out onto the pitch and seeing the normally empty stands brimming with nearly every student in the school. He had been too upset about last year's try-outs to come to a game, so this was a new experience.
Albus noticed Timothy's awe and laughed.
"Going to catch the Snitch with your mouth, 'eh?"
Timothy snapped out of his stare and laughed nervously.
"Oh, er… no, hah hah."
He tried to casually look around for Tuvok, but she was no where in sight. There were several people in the commentator's box, but only Will could be seen.
"Players to your marks!"
Both teams walked onto the field. Timothy took a nervous swallow, glancing at Darian who was wearing an expression mixed of nerves and determination.
"Hey, Potter!"
Timothy looked over to the Slytherin team, and nearly felt nauseous as he spotted Carla Haughton sneering at him.
"Not so tough now, huh?" she crowed.
"Shut your trap, Haughton! Just play the game." Timothy growled back.
"I'll be sure to save a Bludger just for you, Potter." She mocked, just as Professor Mali walked onto the field.
"Mount your brooms!" she bellowed.
Timothy did so with ease, feeling better at the thought of doing the sport he loved.
The whistle blew and they shot into the air. As Timothy flew higher than everyone, he saw Darian already attacking a Bludger and sending it straight to one of Slytherin's chasers. The chaser blocked it, but Darian was throwing them back at an impressive speed. Timothy forced himself to go back to looking for the Snitch. After several minutes into the game, Slytherin was winning by ten points. The crowd cried and called, encouraging all the players to give it they're all. It wasn't until Pena scored twice in a row, bringing the score to favor Gryffindor by ten, that Timothy spotted it. The Snitch was hovering close to where Haughton was beating a Bludger at Pena. If he was careful, he could move up on it without the Slytherin seeker realizing.
Gripping his Dragonsfire tightly, Timothy picked up speed and maneuvered around the other players, gaining on Haughton and the Snitch. Just when he thought he was going to make it without a problem, she spotted him. The look on her face was that of triumph, and she swung an oncoming Bludger straight at him.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Timothy cried, too stunned to move out of the way.
"Timothy!"
Out of nowhere, just as the Bludger came close to hitting Timothy straight on, Darian rammed him out of the way at his side and swung the Bludger away just in time. Timothy spiraled on his broom for a moment, his arm swinging out and his hand caught something. When he stopped and looked at his hand, the golden Snitch was struggling in his grasp.
"GRYFFINDOR HAS THE SNITCH! POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! GAME OVER! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Will shouted.
More than half the students in the stands got to their feet and cheered. Timothy was still trying to recover when his team swarmed around him, slapping his back in triumph. They landed in a heap on the field, and only then did Timothy start to laugh in realization. They won! His first game and they won!
After several more good-hearted pats on the back, the team began to file back to the locker room. Only Darian stood off to the side, shuffling his feet and looking coolly at Timothy. Uncertainly, Timothy walked over to him, not looking him in the eyes.
"Er… thanks. Thanks for… you know…" he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, well… it's my job." Darian muttered.
"The look on Haughton's face was classic though, right?" Timothy looked up at him, grinning slightly.
Darian couldn't help but let a grin loose.
"Yeah, never heard her curse so much."
The tension began to loosen.
"If it weren't for you, my face would be permanently smashed in." Timothy smiled.
"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have caught the Snitch either." Darian smiled back.
"We won, Darian, we won."
"Yeah, we did."
They stared at each other and then burst out laughing.
"I sure showed everyone!" Darian cried.
"It didn't take the game to prove to me that you were a good player." Timothy said.
Darian quieted and turned red.
"Hey, er… I'm sorry. I was a jerk, it really wasn't you. It was Walters and Tuvok."
"Apology accepted." Timothy grinned, relieved to have his friend back.
They laughed again until Timothy saw Will Parry walking up to them.
"Hey Timothy! Timothy! You're wanted up in the box!"
Darian snorted.
"What? They going to give you a trophy already?"
Timothy glared at him and rolled his eyes.
"Don't start that up again, you big git."
"Why?" Timothy called to Will.
"Just go on up there, and hurry up!"
He looked to Darian, who shrugged, and made his way up to the commentator's box. At first glance, there was no one inside. However, when he opened the door-
"CONGRATULATIONS!"
Timothy jumped. His parents, his sister, his godparents, their children, Great Uncle Us, and Lupin appeared right before his eyes. Before he could so much as blink, his father had him in his arms.
"I'm so proud of you! Fantastic!"
Timothy flushed. Kalina knocked into both of them, laughing.
"You almost fell! Hah hah!"
"Ah, but he has his father's reflexes!" his great uncle exclaimed proudly.
"Only a Potter could move like that!" Lupin beamed.
"Thank God you're alright!" his mother pried him from his father and fussed over him.
"Mum, I'm Ok, really!" Timothy fought to get loose.
"He'll be sure to play for the Cannons, eh Harry?" his godfather laughed, coming over to ruffle Timothy's hair. He was holding one of their new twins, a boy with a wisp of red hair.
"Is that…?" Timothy began to ask.
"Oh, that's right! You haven't met the twins yet, have you? Well, this is Talon." His godfather smiled.
"Hello, Talon." Timothy grinned, amused at such an odd name.
"Aunt Hermione has Nayru."
His godmother came up and gave him a careful hug, holding a baby girl with an equal set of red hair.
"You flew wonderfully, Timothy. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was your dad up their flying today!"
Timothy flushed once more as his father put his arms around him again.
"That's my boy!"
"Can you teach me how to play good, Timothy?" Joseph Weasley tugged at his uniform.
"Er, sure… next time school's out." Timothy smiled.
"Sorry to head out real quick," his great uncle said solemnly. "My watch is flashing that I'm needed back at the Circle."
"We better go too, the twins have to be fed soon and I'm sure no one wants to watch that." His godfather grinned.
"Ron!" his godmother exclaimed playfully.
"I have a few detentions to take care of," Lupin said, patting Timothy on the back. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
They left after a round of hugs and good byes, until only his parents and Kalina were left.
"Do you have to go now too?" Timothy asked, not wanting his family to leave just yet.
"We can hang out until after dinner, if that's alright with you?" his father smiled.
"Yes!" Timothy shouted, and they made their way out of the pitch and toward the castle.
"I didn't expect you to come at all, least of all Great Uncle Us and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione." Timothy said as they walked across the grounds.
"We all wouldn't have missed it for the world." His father grinned proudly.
"Your grandparents would have come, only Granddad accidentally blew up the fireplace trying to hex some opossums that made a home in there since last summer." His mother retorted.
Timothy laughed at the thought until Kalina yelped.
"Daddy! Daddy, a snake!"
She leapt into his arms as they all stopped dead in their tracks. Timothy's heart skipped a beat as he began to dread that it just wasn't any ordinary snake, but the one that belonged to John's vision. He backed up into his mother instinctively and she put his arms around him protectively.
"Where is it, Harry?" she asked his father.
"Where's the snake, Kalina? Where is it, honey?" he tried to console her.
Kalina pointed at the grass in front of them.
"Make it go away, daddy, make it go away!"
They all peered carefully in the grass, and, sure enough, there it was. A long, black snake coiled and glaring up at them all. Timothy shuddered.
"Tell it to go away, dad." His voice was dry.
"Now, now… it's only just a harmless black snake." His father said soothingly to them all. He concentrated on it and began to hiss, moving into the language of parseltounge. After a few chilling moments, his father stopped and looked back at them, puzzled.
"That's odd," he said, turning to look back at the snake, which was slowly starting to slither off. "It didn't say anything back. The slimy things are usually very talkative."
That's 'cause it's not an ordinary snake. Timothy shuddered again. His mother squeezed his shoulders gently.
"No need to be afraid, it's gone now, right Harry?" she said brightly.
"Is it, daddy? Is it gone?" Kalina clutched his throat.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's gone. No worries." He pried her off of him and set her back on the ground.
They continued on to the castle, the snake long gone, but it was a long time before the blood returned to Timothy's cheeks.
Timothy finally forgot about the snake after laughing and eating with his family at dinner. Not only was the entire Gryffindor house on a high about winning the match, nearly every eye in the school was on his parents as they ate at the Gryffindor table. His parents were used to the attention, but it was funny to Timothy for he had never seen so many people stare with their mouths gaping open with food halfway to their mouths. Kalina was beside herself with glee, begging their parents to let her stay. They merely laughed and told her that she would be a student soon enough.
"But that's years away!" she complained.
Much to his dismay, their visit had to end. He bade them goodbye as they stepped into a large fireplace set up with Floo powder in the Great Hall, consoled only with the knowledge that he'd see them in a few months for Christmas. As much as he loved Hogwarts, he missed being away from his family for so long.
John still had not returned from seeing his parents, so Darian and Timothy took some seats alone in the common room to talk about the game before bed that evening.
"Looks like all those practice matches Walters made us do against each other helped after all." Darian said, twirling his wand between his fingers.
"Yeah." Timothy smiled.
"Hey, I'm sorry again, man. For… for, you know, what I did." Darian flushed slightly.
"Don't worry about it. We all act stupid once in a while." Timothy threw a pillow at him.
They laughed while Ben came up suddenly with a bemused expression.
"Hey, er… Timothy? Or Darian? Whichever of you owns that silly yellow owl, you have a letter from it back up in the room."
Timothy and Darian exchanged curious looks before shrugging and moving to go upstairs.
"Bit quick for your parents to be sending letters, eh?" Darian said as they went up the spiral staircase.
Timothy shrugged and they entered their dorm room. Jeff was sitting on Timothy's bed with a letter by his talons.
"Hey Jeff," Timothy patted him on the head and took the letter. "Note from home already?"
Much to his surprise, Jeff didn't say a word and took off through the window silently. Timothy looked at Darian in shock, both of them exchanging dumbfounded expressions.
"What's his problem?"
"Got me," Timothy frowned, looking down at the letter. "Maybe mum yelled at him or something and he's upset. Although, he usually mouths it off to me when that happens."
"Maybe the note will give light to the problem." Darian suggested, pointing to the letter in his hand. Nodding, Timothy opened the envelope and took out a small piece of parchment. It read:
Timothy-
I've discovered something. Please meet me in the library tonight at 12 o'clock. Come alone, this does not concern Darian.
John
"Well," Darian pressed. "What does it say?"
Timothy read the note over a few times before looking up at him.
"It's from John,"
"John? Isn't he still at St. Mungo's?" he tried to take the note from him, but Timothy kept it from his reach.
"He wants me to meet him in the library tonight at midnight."
"Why?" Darian stopped pursuing him.
"Don't know, he wants me to go alone."
"Now why wouldn't he want me to come?" Darian asked hotly.
Timothy could only shrug. He suddenly felt cold and shivered. Something wasn't right.
"Something's fishy," Darian narrowed his eyes. "You sure it's from John?"
He handed the note to Darian and he read it carefully.
"Well, it looks like his handwriting. But it doesn't sound like him. Maybe I should follow you."
"No," Timothy thought a moment, looking at his watch. "When I go, you go and get Professor Peacecraft. Whatever it is, she'll need to know."
"You sure? Timothy, I have… and I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I have a funny feeling about this." Darian cracked a nervous grin.
"Well then, it must be bad if you admit to that." Timothy grinned back at him.
Five minutes before midnight, Timothy and Darian slipped out with Timothy's inherited invisibility cloak. Hagrid only snorted in his slumber as his portrait swung closed seemingly by itself. When they reached the main staircase, Timothy pulled the cloak off of them and they split up.
"Careful, man." Darian whispered, moving off toward Peacecraft's office.
Timothy gave him a thumb up and headed toward the library. Everything was eerily silent as he moved on his way. There was an ominous still to the air as the library got closer. When he got to the large oak door labeled LIBRARY, he pulled on the large knob and went inside. The door wasn't even entirely closed when he walked clear into something small and soft.
"Ahhhh!"
"Ahhhh!"
"Lumos!"
"Lumos!"
Light sparked up on the spot from two wands, and Timothy found himself looking down at Luna Dine. She was white as a sheet from being startled, holding a large leather-bound book close to her body with her free hand as she panted to catch her breath.
"What are you doing here?" they both hissed at the same time.
"You tell me."
"You tell me!"
"None of your business!" they growled at each other in union.
An awkward pause followed as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to make their move. When neither of them so much as twitched, steadying their breaths, Timothy scowled.
"Can you leave now?"
"I'll leave when I want to." Luna muttered stiffly.
"How 'bout now?" Timothy grumbled.
"No, I have every right to be here as you do." She countered.
"You're not supposed to be here at this time of night." Timothy pointed a finger at her.
"Neither are you." Luna stared up at him defiantly. She was no longer the meek little girl from the previous year. Now, Timothy stared back into a pair of green eyes that were hardened by pain and anger.
He opened his mouth to argue, but found no words. His mouth hung open and Luna nodded with satisfaction. However, they still didn't move.
"Can you move?" Timothy miffed.
"No problem." Luna took one step to the side, glaring at him.
"Thanks." He mocked. Luna snorted at him.
Timothy ignored her and glanced at his watch. 12:10- John should have been there already. He wandered around the library, feeling an occasional gaze from Luna. Finally, when his watch read 12:45, Timothy threw up his hands in exasperation.
"This must be his idea of a joke," he laughed. "Well, keeping me up this late after a game sure isn't funny to me."
Luna suddenly let out a loud gasp, and Timothy whirled around to see her backing up quickly against a wall. He walked briskly over to her to see what was wrong, and then he saw her.
"Sorry I'm late," said a cool Russian-accented voice. "I had some things to take care of so that we wouldn't be interrupted."
"Tuvok." Timothy's voice squeaked. It didn't take an empath to feel the sudden malice coming from this beautiful woman. She walked toward him, making Timothy back up into Luna. Both of them were shaking as she stepped into a ray of moonlight from a nearby window.
"Oh, please, don't call me that. I'm so tired of that name. Let me properly introduce myself as Veronica. Veronica Murtov." Her voice droned lazily.
"I knew you weren't a talent scout." Timothy tried to sound brave, but it wasn't working.
"Ah, and aren't you the smart one? Yes, well, you've certainly have made a mess of things. I was supposed to take care of you a lot sooner, but that infernal empath friend of yours got in the way. Yet I worked around him. That idiot boy named Hall was also a tool… tear your friendship apart and you would be alone- without allies. The first game was supposed to finalize my plan, but your retched parents had to be there! I couldn't do anything in front of them, not to mention having that other empath teacher on the field! Then you had to go and make up with that stupid boy and my work was ruined! The next leader of the Dark Age has entrusted me, there's no way on Earth I will fail. I get rid of you, he gets rid of your parents. Then I become his partner, and together we'll rid the world of the impurities as one!"
Timothy felt sick. There was nothing he could do. He was totally at the mercy of this deranged power-hungry woman and his destiny had failed. This woman was going to kill him. Dread filled him from head to toe. His parents would be killed. His sister, everyone he loved, would soon be destroyed too. All because he had to doubt and dawdle and deny what he had to do. Without any control, he felt a tear roll down his cheek.
"Not so tough after all, huh? I can't see why Malfoy couldn't destroy you. You aren't half of what your parents are. You're nothing but an empty celebrity for no reason other than name." Murtov leaned close to him.
Timothy lost control.
"You just wait! My parents will get you! Once Peacecraft gets here the whole school will be awake and notified, and my parents will be here faster than you can say 'not-guilty'!"
Murtov only laughed.
"Oh really? Rest assured, little one, I've made sure our little get together here goes undisturbed. Besides, how can anyone save you if you're not even here to be saved?"
Timothy bit his lip, confused and frightened, as Murtov drew out her wand. Luna grabbed his arm and he made no move to dislodge her, too concentrated on Murtov to care.
"Time to put you where you couldn't possibly come back to ruin my plans! A friend of mine is very eager to meet you. Consider yourself lucky you get a traveling companion, Potter, Malfoy will be most pleased to know that I took care of that fool behind you as well."
Before Timothy could pull out his wand in a feeble attempt to protect them, Murtov arched her wand over her head, building power from the beginnings of a spell-
"Historicatim Bandiosa!"
Timothy was hit square in the stomach by a force that felt as if a building was rammed into him. Wind began to scream past his ears, as well as his own yells and Luna's own screams. He felt himself falling backward, backward and backward for what seemed like an eternity. The library disappeared in a flash of white light and a swirling vertex of black and white filled his vision. His stomach dropped down to his feet it seemed, and the pressure pushing him back did not ease. Then suddenly, after it felt like he was going to loose consciousness, the pressure ceased and he free-felled to land in a heap on hard ground. The wind was knocked out of him, made worse when Luna suddenly appeared above him and landed flat on his stomach. She panted laboriously, her short hair falling into Timothy's gasping mouth and making it even more difficult for him to breath. He began to hit her roughly in the side to push her off.
"Ow, hey!" Luna rolled to land beside him. Timothy quickly sat up, hitting his chest until finally he managed to suck in air into his lungs.
"Idiot!" He cried, gasping. "I couldn't breathe!"
"Well you didn't have to beat me up!" Luna retorted angrily.
They glared at each other while Timothy caught his breath, then finally took notice that they were no longer in the library.
"Where are we?" Luna asked, fear edging in her voice.
They were lying across a dirt path at the edge of a forest and a large expanse of meadow.
"Doesn't look like Hogwarts, that's for sure." Timothy whispered, looking around.
"Uhmm, Timothy?" Luna squeaked suddenly, looking behind him.
"What?" he turned, only to be looking dead on at the blade of a sword.
"Thieves!" cried the owner of the sword, a knight dressed in full armor.
"I believe we're definitely not at Hogwarts." Luna whispered fearfully.
"Really? What makes you say that?" Timothy asked sarcastically.
"Thieves!" the knight accused again, pressing the blade closer to Timothy's neck.
"Not thieves," Timothy said to him carefully. "Students."
He didn't even see the iron-gloved hand come at him when the world went black.
A/N: Whoa, cliffhanger! Well? Surprising, huh? Ever expect this to happen? The good thing to know is, that I did! I have the whole story planned, unlike my others. So, where are they? Or... should I ask, when are they? Muhahahahah! Don't worry, it'll be good, I promise. Just be sure to tell me what you think in a nice little review below, only take ya a sec. Peachies? Alrighty! I'll try very hard to get 9 up before spring break ends :-(... school is evil, especially when there is an evil little report card waiting for me there. OK, gotta go!
http://www.theworldofreneepotter.disneyfansites.com
Lot's of new stuff, updated often, go check it out!
~OrcaPotter
Chapter Eight: The Unexpected
"Ah, here comes our star player now!"
The Gryffindor team was standing just outside the Quidditch pitch, waiting for Timothy and Darian to arrive. Seamore Walters stood slightly in front of the rest of the team, his eyes beaming down at Timothy as they approached.
"Remind me again why I tried out for the team?" Darian grumbled sarcastically under his breath.
"Because you're just as good a player as anyone else here and you're smart enough not to take Walters personally." Timothy mumbled back.
"Ermm… right."
Walters brought down his hand on Timothy's shoulder when they reached them with a broad smile. He only glanced politely at Darian before ordering the team to warm up.
"There's nothing I need to teach you," Walters laughed as they walked out onto the field while the other players mounted their brooms and took off for practice runs. "You're just as good as anyone else, maybe even better, so don't expect special treatment just 'cause you're starting out."
Timothy merely nodded and walked off to prepare his broom, looking back at Darian to beckon him to follow, but Walters grabbed Darian's arm before he could move.
"You however, keep clear of the posts, 'eh? Hah hah!"
Darian scowled and roughly pulled himself free of Walter's grasp, quickly catching up to Timothy.
"That good for nothing piece of s…-!"
"Darian."
"I'm just a big joke to him!"
"Just ignore him. Prove him wrong! Show him that you're just as good as I am… then he'll lay off both of us!" Timothy hissed severely as they mounted their brooms and took to the air.
"He loves you! What do you have to worry about?" Darian said hotly.
"I don't like him any more than you do. Stop fretting about this and keep an eye out for Tuvok, I haven't seen her." With a wave, Timothy shot up above the other players on the team to scout out the Snitch. It was a technique his father had used and taught him, and it served Timothy a duel purpose at that moment: looking for the Snitch, and Ms. Tuvok.
"Be careful." Darian pulled out his beater's stick and flew off to tackle the Bludgers, which were already closing in on Dole and Jane, two of the chasers.
Timothy tried to inconspicuously search the commentator's box and the stands for Tuvok, while making it look like he was just searching for the Snitch. Sure enough, just walking onto the sidelines, Ms. Tuvok came onto the field alongside Professor Mali. He made sure to keep as far away from them as possible, and when he moved to the far side of the pitch, Timothy spotted the Snitch.
It was hovering close to Darian, as a matter of fact, and he was frantically blowing off a Bludger that kept going after Pena Nole. If he kept backing up on his broom, the Snitch would be moved away and lost again.
Checking his path of decent, Timothy flattened himself against his broom and dove toward the Snitch. Darian, out of the corner of his eye, spotted him and gave a powerful blow to the Bludger he was fighting. He cleared the way for Timothy, and the Snitch fell into Timothy's outstretched hand as he zoomed past.
Mali's whistle blew and the team began to land their brooms for a break. Timothy happily jumped to the grass field and handed the Snitch over to Albus Moran, the Keeper, who gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. Darian landed alongside him, smiling for the first time since they walked onto the pitch.
"Make a good team, don't we?" he grinned.
"Told you." Timothy smiled back.
"Bravo, bravo! I knew I had made a wise decision!"
Tuvok came striding toward them, wearing ridiculously high red pumps and a knee length red sun dress. Her long fingernails were painted to match, and she grabbed Timothy before he could so much as react to her sudden appearance.
Timothy sent a warning look to Darian not to give off anything as he wanly smiled in her grip.
"Er… hello, Ms. Tuvok."
Her Russian accent was thick as she got close to his ear to say:
"I expect nothing less from you, Mister Potter."
Timothy couldn't help but let out a gulp.
She stood up straight and regarded Darian with a wiry smile.
"And you too, Mister Hall. Why, I believe you'll match up to Mister Potter here in time."
Darian had a hard time containing his scowl.
"Yes, perhaps I should match you too up, to improve your skills. I shall consult with Mister Walters about this. Mister Hall can learn a lot from you, Mister Potter."
With a seductive wink, Tuvok strode back to Mali, who had her eyes furrowed at her in distaste. Tuvok ignore her and pulled Walters aside. Timothy looked back at Darian, who looked about ready to implode.
"Improve my skills! Improve my skills?! I'll show her improvement on my skills! I don't need help!"
"Now, Darian, take it easy…" Timothy tried to calm him.
"I don't care what she is, who she is, or what she's doing, Timothy. I'm going to show everyone that I'm better than they think I am! You just wait, sister! I'll show you! I'll show you all!" Darian growled, and before Timothy could stop him, he shot back up into the air and began to beat the Bludgers roughly.
Timothy sighed and looked back at Tuvok, who had finished talking with Walters and was now watching Darian indifferently. Walters himself was busy scribbling on a roll of parchment, most likely issuing the assignments Tuvok had "suggested".
Yeah, right. More like ordered. Why are they letting her run everything? She's not the head of Gryffindor, she's not associated with the Quidditch department. Why hasn't anyone realized she's not just an ordinary talent scout? Why haven't they realized she isn't one at all?
He suddenly realized he was staring, and quickly got back on his broom to continue the exercise. It was clear that Tuvok was manipulating everyone connected with Quidditch that she needed to stay, and give authority. Walters gave into her every whim without a blink of any eye, is it possible she has him under some sort of spell? And what about Professor Mali? She obviously detests Tuvok, but says nothing when the woman acts on unprecedented power.
Something is very wrong.
Before Mali blew the whistle to signal practice over, Timothy and Darian spent another three hours on the pitch with the rest of the team. Darian didn't seem directly angry at him, but didn't say anything when Walters did order them to try some flying maneuvers with each other. Timothy acted as if nothing was wrong, but kept trying to convey a look to his friend to tell him that it was not his fault. Darian only grunted.
"First game is in two weeks, folks! Versus Slytherin! Next practice is on Thursday, don't you forget it! We better shape ourselves up if we hope to flatten those slimy worms!" Walters called out to them as they filed out of the pitch.
"You're not mad at me, are you Darian?" Timothy whispered to him as they walked to the castle.
"No." he mumbled.
"Well? Why are you so cold towards me all of a sudden? You know I didn't cause Tuvok to do what she did and said, nor can I control Walters."
"I know."
"So what's your problem?"
"Take a wild guess." And with that he broke into a hasty walk and went into the castle before Timothy.
Flabbergasted and slightly put off, Timothy ran into the castle after him, slamming into Luna Dine.
"Watch it!"
"Well, excuse me!" Luna barked uncharacteristically.
Timothy was too caught up with Darian to wonder, and went up the staircase two steps at a time before he stopped short again.
"Timothy Potter! Here, got a moment? I need you to do something for us."
It was Dan and Zan, the only two ghosts of Hogwarts. Timothy hadn't seen them at all that school year; rumor had it that the two partnered auror ghosts were quarreling so much that Dumbledore ordered them to stay below the dungeons until they settled- which obviously wasn't until recently.
"I'm busy." Timothy panted impatiently, moving aside to go on, but Dan flew in front of his face to stop him. Timothy did not care to walk through his icy vaporous body.
"Oh, please! We need another opinion!"
"You're parents are aurors, perhaps you'll know!" Zan crossed her arms, floating off to the side.
"They don't tell me much," Timothy said quickly, darting around Dan. "I'm not one to ask."
"You're sure to know something! C'mon!"
"We just need to know who's stronger in the anti-dark arts, men or women?" Zan asked quickly.
Timothy stopped struggling to get past and blinked at them.
"You're asking me? How am I to know?"
Dan and Zan looked at each other.
"Maybe your father has said something? He is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Order of Merlin, First Class."
"You're mother, surely! Harry's not the only one with the Order of Merlin, First Class!"
"My parents are both great and talented at what they do. How else did they defeat the dark lord if they didn't work together? The individual doesn't matter, it's the team. My dad told me that, and my mum agrees. Maybe if you two started listening to each other instead of bickering senselessly, you'll find your answer." Timothy said, and he left the two awestruck ghosts to themselves to continue looking for Darian.
He didn't find him until he reached their dorm room, where he half-expected him to be in the first place. John was sitting by Darian's side, and gave Timothy a warning look not to pursue any questions just yet. Confused and upset, Timothy decided to go for a walk.
Most of the school was in their common rooms and in their dorms when Timothy walked back out of the castle and into the cool air of evening. He walked out to the lake and leaned against the oak tree, watching the water.
"Darian's stupid if he thinks that it's my fault that Walters and Tuvok favors me. I mean, Tuvok has an obvious plot out against me! This is all just part of her plan, most likely." Timothy grumbled.
"So that's what's wrong, 'eh wild one?"
Timothy looked up into the oak's branches and saw Jeff perched on one of the lower limbs, watching him closely with his large owl eyes.
"Yeah, so?" he shrugged up at him.
Jeff lifted off the branch and came to land tentatively on Timothy's shoulder, giving him a piercing stare.
"Let Darian blow off his steam. He's smart enough to realize eventually that he was wrong. Just give him some space to think it out."
"But I didn't do anything!" Timothy shouted.
"Hey, I'm three inches from you, can you yell any louder?!" Jeff shouted back, shaking his head vigorously.
"Sorry," Timothy colored slightly. "It's just that he's my friend and having him being mad at me for no reason gets on my nerves."
"Darian has enough maturity right now to fill a shot glass," Jeff mumbled. "Like I said, give him time and he'll come around."
"Maybe you're right." Timothy sighed, looking back out at the lake.
"Of course I am! I'm only the wisest talking owl there is!"
"OK, but I'll remember your wisdom if it doesn't work out, and get back to you." Timothy pointed a finger at him.
"The great Jeff is never wrong!" Jeff grinned as best he could with a beak.
"Oh yeah? What about that one time when I was little that you told me that human babies hatched from eggs?"
"In a sense they are."
"Or the time you told me that eating carrots would turn me orange?"
"Eat enough of them and you would have."
"How about the time you told me that my socks would come alive and eat my feet if I didn't change them every day?"
"OK, you got me there."
"I rest my case." Timothy smiled and began to walk back to the castle.
"I know what I'm saying this time, though!" Jeff insisted as they walked off.
"Sure."
"No, really! Listen to me I-… hey, you hear that?" Jeff squeezed his talons on Timothy's shoulder, making him wince in slight pain.
"Hear what? Ouch, Jeff, you're hurting me!"
"Something else moving in the grass. Listen!" Jeff focused his eyes behind them in the grass, and Timothy turned to look where he was looking. The only movement was the wind moving over the grass, and Timothy rolled his eyes and began to move on again.
"I don't see anything."
"But I heard something moving!"
"It was just us you were hearing. Geez, you've become even more paranoid as a bird!"
"I'm not paranoid!" Jeff cried defensively.
"Right."
"No really!"
****
"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Potter."
"I can't believe it's you!"
"Am I that unbelievable?"
"No, it's just… now I feel so old."
"I'm hardly as old as I look, I assure you."
Mary Peacecraft had finally managed to meet with Harry and Renee Potter after an auror's meeting they had in one of the offices at the Ministry. They sat themselves down in one of the smaller conference rooms, and while Peacecraft could feel a warm and pleasant vibe coming from Harry, she could sense that Renee knew that she was not meeting them on casual business. The look in the deep blue eyes of Timothy's mother seemed to look into her like another empath would, but Renee was not an empath.
"What brings you to us after all this time, Ms. Peacecraft?" Renee smiled calmly.
"Well, as you may know, I'm a professor at Hogwarts for divination." She explained. "I've had the pleasure of coming across your young son, Timothy."
"Really?" Harry smiled proudly. "He hasn't done anything wrong, has he?"
"Oh no," Peacecraft laughed. "Nothing of the sort, that I know of. Although, he's so much like you, Harry, that I wouldn't be surprised."
"If he does take after me, I doubt we'll ever know everything that he does at Hogwarts." He tried to hide a grin, while Renee gave him a sidelong glare.
"What is it that concerns you, though?" Renee addressed Peacecraft quietly. The direct question struck her by surprise; Renee had unprecedented powers.
Peacecraft did a quick mental check of anyone outside the room who might be nearby to listen, put a silencing spell around them, and cleared her throat.
"It has been brought to my attention by one of Timothy's closest friends, John Stanton, that there is something going on at the school that involves your son. John, like myself, is an empath, and over the summer experienced a reoccurring vision that somehow involves Timothy. Meanwhile, as you may already know by letters from him, there is a Quidditch talent scout on the grounds that has a particular fondness for Timothy. I'm am unsure if the two are connected."
"Who is the talent scout? Why would she have anything to do with a vision concerning Timothy?" Harry asked, all amusement gone.
"I have not met this talent scout, for she isn't one at all. John was able to sense that this woman is blocking her mental vibes to the outside, meaning that she is an empath like myself. The only reason to block your feelings from anyone is if you have something to hide- and she knows that there are empaths at the school. I believe that is why I have not come across her, she's making sure that any adult empaths can't come close enough to sense that she's up to something. As for her connected to Timothy, I am not sure what her motives are. Only that she chose him for the Quidditch position almost immediately, and also motioned for his friend Darian to be admitted as well. From what I know, Darian was not a prime candidate after an embarrassing incident involving one of the goal posts. She has singled the two out, and this is what concerns me."
The looks on Harry and Renee's faces were of total concentration and focus. Renee, apparently, instinctively reached out for Harry's hand and took it.
"This brings me to the main reason why I have come to see the two of you in person." Peacecraft took a deep breath and cleared her throat again. "Both of you are aware that your son has a destiny, much like you yourselves had."
They nodded. "Yes."
"As an empath, I have an oath to the unwritten law that it is forbidden to read into a person's mind without permission of that person. Let me assure you, that I have not invaded on Timothy's consciousness. However, as you know, he radiates a distinctive power that originates down deep through his blood. His destiny is far greater than anyone can imagine, but I would like to know if you know anything more than that."
"We knew from the moment he was born that he was very important. More important than us." Harry said quietly.
"It's up to him to destroy Malfoy." Renee whispered, her eyes downcast.
"Yes. That is part of his quest, which is part of his destiny." Peacecraft nodded.
"Quest?" Harry looked at her sharply. "What quest?"
Peacecraft sighed inside of herself, it was apparent that Timothy's parents did not know of anything that could be helpful.
"I do not know what it is he has to do, but the part that makes Timothy's destiny far greater is the fact that he has been sent on a quest."
"Who? Who sent him?" Renee pressed.
"I do not know. You must understand that there is nothing you can do to help him, except to be there for support. The final battle must be waged by him alone."
"We know." Harry sighed heavily, looking at Renee.
"Is there nothing more you can tell me that you think could be helpful?" Peacecraft looked at them both.
They shook their heads.
"No… why? What does this other empath want to do with our son?"
"That is exactly what I want to find out." Peacecraft got to her feet; Harry and Renee stood up to see her out.
"Thank you for telling us about this, Mary," Harry put his arm around Renee's shoulders. "I'm sure Timothy never would have."
"And it's important that he doesn't know I told you. You should act as you normally do- it would worry him that you both know. He's already greatly stressed with the knowledge of the task that has been befallen on him. Normalcy, as much as possible these days, is best for Timothy right now." She reached for the door and paused a moment.
"Oh, by the way, Gryffindor's first game is in two weeks. I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore would love to meet with you at that time, if you catch my meaning."
They both smiled and nodded.
"That's one meeting I don't want to miss." Harry beamed.
****
There were six practice sessions before the first game, and Timothy had never had more intense training in Quidditch before. Tuvok was still observing and giving Walters "pointers" on where to improve the players. As result, Timothy was paired with Darian and every day Timothy was praised and Darian was corrected. It made the practices almost unbearable as the growing competition between them grew. Timothy tried to talk with him, but it was no use. Darian seemed to blame Timothy for all of his mistakes. Timothy's impatience with him finally won him over and he gave up trying to make a mend. The game in which they both loved was tearing their friendship apart.
"This is ridiculous," John rolled his eyes in exasperation as he was put between them at dinner a few nights before the first match. "You know that the only reason this is happening to the two of you is because of that woman!"
"I don't care who or what she is," Darian grumbled, not looking up from his plate. "In order for me to keep up with the team I have to improve my skills! And if I have to be paired with a know-it-all hotshot, by all means am I going to improve! Just to prove that I'm really the better player!"
Timothy stabbed his meat angrily at hearing Darian's words, hitting the plate a little too hard and sending the piece of meat to go soaring into the air and land on Carla Haughton's head.
"WHO DID THAT? I DEMAND TO KNOW!" She stood up and shook the gravy-coated piece of meat from her blonde hair.
Normally, the situation would make the three of them burst out laughing. Timothy glanced over at Darian, who was making an effort not to look. John looked at them both expectantly, waiting for a reaction. But no one uttered a single giggle, and they continued to eat silently as Carla continued to berate her entire table for a confession.
The night before the first game, Timothy sat on the edge of his bed and stared down at the old key that was the first clue to his quest. There was no one to talk to about it; John was having a lesson with Peacecraft and Darian was anywhere but where Timothy was. He sighed loudly, thinking back to his parents and how much he missed them. What would they say to comfort him about this quest if he were to tell them? But he couldn't… they would never believe him.
He laid back on his bed, rolling the key around in his fingers, when a thought occurred to him. Perhaps his uncle's diary could bring him some piece of mind. He put away the key and reached under his pillow to pull out the worn book. Flipping a few pages, he landed on one that he hadn't read before:
What should I do? My friend Jason got mad at me today because I transfigured our coconut into a crab quicker than he did. Even though he could do it too, while a lot of other kids in our class didn't even get it to change red, Jason still got mad and now he won't talk to me. It's real weird, 'cause we always hang out and now he ignores me when he can. Mom says I should apologize, but dad argued that there was nothing for me to apologize for. 'He's just jealous' James told me. He's right, I guess. But how long do I have to wait alone until Jason realizes that himself?
~Timothy Springs
1979
The similarities were startling. Again, his uncle had faced some problems very much like he was having. While the entry didn't help him on what it was he could do, it was comforting to know that his uncle was in the same situation once before. Darian was jealous, and Timothy realized that he just had to wait for him to admit it. Perhaps after that, their friendship would be saved.
The door opened and Darian quietly walked in. Timothy quickly shut the diary and dropped it in his pocket along with the key. Darian didn't so much as glance at him as he got his pajamas on and pulled the curtains around his bed before climbing inside. When the only sounds were of Darian's regular breathing, Timothy sighed and pulled his covers over him without changing.
Perhaps things will change tomorrow, once we win. He thought as he fell asleep.
Everyone in Gryffindor was excited and energetic the following morning. Bran woke Timothy and Darian up early so that the team could discuss the upcoming game over breakfast before the crowd. However, they could hardly hear themselves think as they ate for the entire school had woken up early in the anticipation of the first match.
"Be sure and eat everything," Walters yawned, pushing his eggs around with a fork. "We all need to be at our best out there."
"I'm at my best every time I'm out there." Timothy heard Darian grumble from across the table. He had been hoping that the jitters before the game would allow him and Darian to reconcile their differences, but Darian continued his ignorance. Bran noticed Timothy staring at him and leaned over to whisper:
"So, what's up with you two, 'eh? You don't speak anymore outside the pitch."
Timothy shrugged and munched on a piece of toast.
"He ain't jealous of you, is he?" Bran whispered while looking over at Darian, who was hunched over his plate.
"I 'spose." Timothy said with relief to be talking to someone about the problem.
"Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Once we win and he realizes how much of a difference he makes, he'll come crawling back and beg forgiveness. You just wait." Bran went back to his eggs.
Timothy considered that thought a moment, thinking that that just might happen, when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Professor Peacecraft, and she looked very grim.
"Yes, Professor?" he asked slowly. Darian looked up momentarily from his plate.
"I need to speak with you, do you have a moment?"
"Er…" he looked over at Walters, who had a vague curious expression on his face. "Yeah, sure."
He got up and followed her to the door while Darian went back to his food. Once outside the Great Hall, Peacecraft immediately put a silencing spell around them so that no one would overhear.
"Something has happened." She said grimly.
"Is my family Ok?" Timothy immediately felt scared, afraid that Malfoy had found his family and something dreadful had happened.
To his relief, she gave him a faint smile.
"No, you're family is perfectly alright. But I'm afraid the same does not apply for John's." Peacecraft frowned as she finished her sentence.
"What happened? Where is John, anyway?"
"Death Eaters attacked his parents' home last night. John's parents were hit several times with the Cruciatus curse. Fortunately, they weren't killed. By the time some aurors from the Circle showed up, the Death Eaters were gone. John has gone to be with them at St. Mungo's."
Timothy took a deep breath of relief.
"Timothy, I have a feeling this may have something to do with that Tuvok woman. I'm not sure how or why, but please stay very clear of her today. This incident may not be just coincidence that it should take John away at this time." Peacecraft warned him.
"What does an attack on John's parents have to do with Tuvok?"
"To get John away. He's the only other empath here at Hogwarts. There is no reason for me to be anywhere close to her, and only John gets close because of you. Without John close to you, you won't be able to sense if she's going to do something. However, I can go down to the pitch today with the excuse to watch the match. Perhaps I can find out more about her. Just keep out of her way, understand?"
"Yes, Professor." Timothy replied.
"Now, good luck on the game. Try not to worry."
"I will." He turned to go back into the Great Hall.
"Oh, and Timothy?"
He looked back at her.
"Darian doesn't realize how he's acting. Just be there for him as a friend, and he'll eventually come around."
Timothy nodded, furrowing his brow, and walked back inside.
He tried his best to warm up to Darian throughout the day, but he merely shrugged him off. Eventually Timothy gave up and left him alone, trying hard to concentrate on his lessons but without avail. When it finally came time to get ready for the match, Timothy quickly gathered his uniform and his broom to get out onto the pitch.
In the locker room, Walters gave the team a last pep talk before the din of voices from the crowd out in the stands became too distracting and he dismissed them to file outside. Darian remained silent the whole time, clutching his broom and his Beater's stick, in line right behind Walters. They walked out first, closely followed by the Chasers- Pena, Jane, and Dole. Albus Moran, the Keeper, walked out next, giving Timothy a small wink as he fell into place behind him.
"And here comes the GRYFFINDOR TEAM!" shouted Will Parry, the commentator.
The applause startled Timothy, walking out onto the pitch and seeing the normally empty stands brimming with nearly every student in the school. He had been too upset about last year's try-outs to come to a game, so this was a new experience.
Albus noticed Timothy's awe and laughed.
"Going to catch the Snitch with your mouth, 'eh?"
Timothy snapped out of his stare and laughed nervously.
"Oh, er… no, hah hah."
He tried to casually look around for Tuvok, but she was no where in sight. There were several people in the commentator's box, but only Will could be seen.
"Players to your marks!"
Both teams walked onto the field. Timothy took a nervous swallow, glancing at Darian who was wearing an expression mixed of nerves and determination.
"Hey, Potter!"
Timothy looked over to the Slytherin team, and nearly felt nauseous as he spotted Carla Haughton sneering at him.
"Not so tough now, huh?" she crowed.
"Shut your trap, Haughton! Just play the game." Timothy growled back.
"I'll be sure to save a Bludger just for you, Potter." She mocked, just as Professor Mali walked onto the field.
"Mount your brooms!" she bellowed.
Timothy did so with ease, feeling better at the thought of doing the sport he loved.
The whistle blew and they shot into the air. As Timothy flew higher than everyone, he saw Darian already attacking a Bludger and sending it straight to one of Slytherin's chasers. The chaser blocked it, but Darian was throwing them back at an impressive speed. Timothy forced himself to go back to looking for the Snitch. After several minutes into the game, Slytherin was winning by ten points. The crowd cried and called, encouraging all the players to give it they're all. It wasn't until Pena scored twice in a row, bringing the score to favor Gryffindor by ten, that Timothy spotted it. The Snitch was hovering close to where Haughton was beating a Bludger at Pena. If he was careful, he could move up on it without the Slytherin seeker realizing.
Gripping his Dragonsfire tightly, Timothy picked up speed and maneuvered around the other players, gaining on Haughton and the Snitch. Just when he thought he was going to make it without a problem, she spotted him. The look on her face was that of triumph, and she swung an oncoming Bludger straight at him.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Timothy cried, too stunned to move out of the way.
"Timothy!"
Out of nowhere, just as the Bludger came close to hitting Timothy straight on, Darian rammed him out of the way at his side and swung the Bludger away just in time. Timothy spiraled on his broom for a moment, his arm swinging out and his hand caught something. When he stopped and looked at his hand, the golden Snitch was struggling in his grasp.
"GRYFFINDOR HAS THE SNITCH! POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! GAME OVER! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Will shouted.
More than half the students in the stands got to their feet and cheered. Timothy was still trying to recover when his team swarmed around him, slapping his back in triumph. They landed in a heap on the field, and only then did Timothy start to laugh in realization. They won! His first game and they won!
After several more good-hearted pats on the back, the team began to file back to the locker room. Only Darian stood off to the side, shuffling his feet and looking coolly at Timothy. Uncertainly, Timothy walked over to him, not looking him in the eyes.
"Er… thanks. Thanks for… you know…" he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, well… it's my job." Darian muttered.
"The look on Haughton's face was classic though, right?" Timothy looked up at him, grinning slightly.
Darian couldn't help but let a grin loose.
"Yeah, never heard her curse so much."
The tension began to loosen.
"If it weren't for you, my face would be permanently smashed in." Timothy smiled.
"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have caught the Snitch either." Darian smiled back.
"We won, Darian, we won."
"Yeah, we did."
They stared at each other and then burst out laughing.
"I sure showed everyone!" Darian cried.
"It didn't take the game to prove to me that you were a good player." Timothy said.
Darian quieted and turned red.
"Hey, er… I'm sorry. I was a jerk, it really wasn't you. It was Walters and Tuvok."
"Apology accepted." Timothy grinned, relieved to have his friend back.
They laughed again until Timothy saw Will Parry walking up to them.
"Hey Timothy! Timothy! You're wanted up in the box!"
Darian snorted.
"What? They going to give you a trophy already?"
Timothy glared at him and rolled his eyes.
"Don't start that up again, you big git."
"Why?" Timothy called to Will.
"Just go on up there, and hurry up!"
He looked to Darian, who shrugged, and made his way up to the commentator's box. At first glance, there was no one inside. However, when he opened the door-
"CONGRATULATIONS!"
Timothy jumped. His parents, his sister, his godparents, their children, Great Uncle Us, and Lupin appeared right before his eyes. Before he could so much as blink, his father had him in his arms.
"I'm so proud of you! Fantastic!"
Timothy flushed. Kalina knocked into both of them, laughing.
"You almost fell! Hah hah!"
"Ah, but he has his father's reflexes!" his great uncle exclaimed proudly.
"Only a Potter could move like that!" Lupin beamed.
"Thank God you're alright!" his mother pried him from his father and fussed over him.
"Mum, I'm Ok, really!" Timothy fought to get loose.
"He'll be sure to play for the Cannons, eh Harry?" his godfather laughed, coming over to ruffle Timothy's hair. He was holding one of their new twins, a boy with a wisp of red hair.
"Is that…?" Timothy began to ask.
"Oh, that's right! You haven't met the twins yet, have you? Well, this is Talon." His godfather smiled.
"Hello, Talon." Timothy grinned, amused at such an odd name.
"Aunt Hermione has Nayru."
His godmother came up and gave him a careful hug, holding a baby girl with an equal set of red hair.
"You flew wonderfully, Timothy. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was your dad up their flying today!"
Timothy flushed once more as his father put his arms around him again.
"That's my boy!"
"Can you teach me how to play good, Timothy?" Joseph Weasley tugged at his uniform.
"Er, sure… next time school's out." Timothy smiled.
"Sorry to head out real quick," his great uncle said solemnly. "My watch is flashing that I'm needed back at the Circle."
"We better go too, the twins have to be fed soon and I'm sure no one wants to watch that." His godfather grinned.
"Ron!" his godmother exclaimed playfully.
"I have a few detentions to take care of," Lupin said, patting Timothy on the back. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
They left after a round of hugs and good byes, until only his parents and Kalina were left.
"Do you have to go now too?" Timothy asked, not wanting his family to leave just yet.
"We can hang out until after dinner, if that's alright with you?" his father smiled.
"Yes!" Timothy shouted, and they made their way out of the pitch and toward the castle.
"I didn't expect you to come at all, least of all Great Uncle Us and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione." Timothy said as they walked across the grounds.
"We all wouldn't have missed it for the world." His father grinned proudly.
"Your grandparents would have come, only Granddad accidentally blew up the fireplace trying to hex some opossums that made a home in there since last summer." His mother retorted.
Timothy laughed at the thought until Kalina yelped.
"Daddy! Daddy, a snake!"
She leapt into his arms as they all stopped dead in their tracks. Timothy's heart skipped a beat as he began to dread that it just wasn't any ordinary snake, but the one that belonged to John's vision. He backed up into his mother instinctively and she put his arms around him protectively.
"Where is it, Harry?" she asked his father.
"Where's the snake, Kalina? Where is it, honey?" he tried to console her.
Kalina pointed at the grass in front of them.
"Make it go away, daddy, make it go away!"
They all peered carefully in the grass, and, sure enough, there it was. A long, black snake coiled and glaring up at them all. Timothy shuddered.
"Tell it to go away, dad." His voice was dry.
"Now, now… it's only just a harmless black snake." His father said soothingly to them all. He concentrated on it and began to hiss, moving into the language of parseltounge. After a few chilling moments, his father stopped and looked back at them, puzzled.
"That's odd," he said, turning to look back at the snake, which was slowly starting to slither off. "It didn't say anything back. The slimy things are usually very talkative."
That's 'cause it's not an ordinary snake. Timothy shuddered again. His mother squeezed his shoulders gently.
"No need to be afraid, it's gone now, right Harry?" she said brightly.
"Is it, daddy? Is it gone?" Kalina clutched his throat.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's gone. No worries." He pried her off of him and set her back on the ground.
They continued on to the castle, the snake long gone, but it was a long time before the blood returned to Timothy's cheeks.
Timothy finally forgot about the snake after laughing and eating with his family at dinner. Not only was the entire Gryffindor house on a high about winning the match, nearly every eye in the school was on his parents as they ate at the Gryffindor table. His parents were used to the attention, but it was funny to Timothy for he had never seen so many people stare with their mouths gaping open with food halfway to their mouths. Kalina was beside herself with glee, begging their parents to let her stay. They merely laughed and told her that she would be a student soon enough.
"But that's years away!" she complained.
Much to his dismay, their visit had to end. He bade them goodbye as they stepped into a large fireplace set up with Floo powder in the Great Hall, consoled only with the knowledge that he'd see them in a few months for Christmas. As much as he loved Hogwarts, he missed being away from his family for so long.
John still had not returned from seeing his parents, so Darian and Timothy took some seats alone in the common room to talk about the game before bed that evening.
"Looks like all those practice matches Walters made us do against each other helped after all." Darian said, twirling his wand between his fingers.
"Yeah." Timothy smiled.
"Hey, I'm sorry again, man. For… for, you know, what I did." Darian flushed slightly.
"Don't worry about it. We all act stupid once in a while." Timothy threw a pillow at him.
They laughed while Ben came up suddenly with a bemused expression.
"Hey, er… Timothy? Or Darian? Whichever of you owns that silly yellow owl, you have a letter from it back up in the room."
Timothy and Darian exchanged curious looks before shrugging and moving to go upstairs.
"Bit quick for your parents to be sending letters, eh?" Darian said as they went up the spiral staircase.
Timothy shrugged and they entered their dorm room. Jeff was sitting on Timothy's bed with a letter by his talons.
"Hey Jeff," Timothy patted him on the head and took the letter. "Note from home already?"
Much to his surprise, Jeff didn't say a word and took off through the window silently. Timothy looked at Darian in shock, both of them exchanging dumbfounded expressions.
"What's his problem?"
"Got me," Timothy frowned, looking down at the letter. "Maybe mum yelled at him or something and he's upset. Although, he usually mouths it off to me when that happens."
"Maybe the note will give light to the problem." Darian suggested, pointing to the letter in his hand. Nodding, Timothy opened the envelope and took out a small piece of parchment. It read:
Timothy-
I've discovered something. Please meet me in the library tonight at 12 o'clock. Come alone, this does not concern Darian.
John
"Well," Darian pressed. "What does it say?"
Timothy read the note over a few times before looking up at him.
"It's from John,"
"John? Isn't he still at St. Mungo's?" he tried to take the note from him, but Timothy kept it from his reach.
"He wants me to meet him in the library tonight at midnight."
"Why?" Darian stopped pursuing him.
"Don't know, he wants me to go alone."
"Now why wouldn't he want me to come?" Darian asked hotly.
Timothy could only shrug. He suddenly felt cold and shivered. Something wasn't right.
"Something's fishy," Darian narrowed his eyes. "You sure it's from John?"
He handed the note to Darian and he read it carefully.
"Well, it looks like his handwriting. But it doesn't sound like him. Maybe I should follow you."
"No," Timothy thought a moment, looking at his watch. "When I go, you go and get Professor Peacecraft. Whatever it is, she'll need to know."
"You sure? Timothy, I have… and I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I have a funny feeling about this." Darian cracked a nervous grin.
"Well then, it must be bad if you admit to that." Timothy grinned back at him.
Five minutes before midnight, Timothy and Darian slipped out with Timothy's inherited invisibility cloak. Hagrid only snorted in his slumber as his portrait swung closed seemingly by itself. When they reached the main staircase, Timothy pulled the cloak off of them and they split up.
"Careful, man." Darian whispered, moving off toward Peacecraft's office.
Timothy gave him a thumb up and headed toward the library. Everything was eerily silent as he moved on his way. There was an ominous still to the air as the library got closer. When he got to the large oak door labeled LIBRARY, he pulled on the large knob and went inside. The door wasn't even entirely closed when he walked clear into something small and soft.
"Ahhhh!"
"Ahhhh!"
"Lumos!"
"Lumos!"
Light sparked up on the spot from two wands, and Timothy found himself looking down at Luna Dine. She was white as a sheet from being startled, holding a large leather-bound book close to her body with her free hand as she panted to catch her breath.
"What are you doing here?" they both hissed at the same time.
"You tell me."
"You tell me!"
"None of your business!" they growled at each other in union.
An awkward pause followed as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to make their move. When neither of them so much as twitched, steadying their breaths, Timothy scowled.
"Can you leave now?"
"I'll leave when I want to." Luna muttered stiffly.
"How 'bout now?" Timothy grumbled.
"No, I have every right to be here as you do." She countered.
"You're not supposed to be here at this time of night." Timothy pointed a finger at her.
"Neither are you." Luna stared up at him defiantly. She was no longer the meek little girl from the previous year. Now, Timothy stared back into a pair of green eyes that were hardened by pain and anger.
He opened his mouth to argue, but found no words. His mouth hung open and Luna nodded with satisfaction. However, they still didn't move.
"Can you move?" Timothy miffed.
"No problem." Luna took one step to the side, glaring at him.
"Thanks." He mocked. Luna snorted at him.
Timothy ignored her and glanced at his watch. 12:10- John should have been there already. He wandered around the library, feeling an occasional gaze from Luna. Finally, when his watch read 12:45, Timothy threw up his hands in exasperation.
"This must be his idea of a joke," he laughed. "Well, keeping me up this late after a game sure isn't funny to me."
Luna suddenly let out a loud gasp, and Timothy whirled around to see her backing up quickly against a wall. He walked briskly over to her to see what was wrong, and then he saw her.
"Sorry I'm late," said a cool Russian-accented voice. "I had some things to take care of so that we wouldn't be interrupted."
"Tuvok." Timothy's voice squeaked. It didn't take an empath to feel the sudden malice coming from this beautiful woman. She walked toward him, making Timothy back up into Luna. Both of them were shaking as she stepped into a ray of moonlight from a nearby window.
"Oh, please, don't call me that. I'm so tired of that name. Let me properly introduce myself as Veronica. Veronica Murtov." Her voice droned lazily.
"I knew you weren't a talent scout." Timothy tried to sound brave, but it wasn't working.
"Ah, and aren't you the smart one? Yes, well, you've certainly have made a mess of things. I was supposed to take care of you a lot sooner, but that infernal empath friend of yours got in the way. Yet I worked around him. That idiot boy named Hall was also a tool… tear your friendship apart and you would be alone- without allies. The first game was supposed to finalize my plan, but your retched parents had to be there! I couldn't do anything in front of them, not to mention having that other empath teacher on the field! Then you had to go and make up with that stupid boy and my work was ruined! The next leader of the Dark Age has entrusted me, there's no way on Earth I will fail. I get rid of you, he gets rid of your parents. Then I become his partner, and together we'll rid the world of the impurities as one!"
Timothy felt sick. There was nothing he could do. He was totally at the mercy of this deranged power-hungry woman and his destiny had failed. This woman was going to kill him. Dread filled him from head to toe. His parents would be killed. His sister, everyone he loved, would soon be destroyed too. All because he had to doubt and dawdle and deny what he had to do. Without any control, he felt a tear roll down his cheek.
"Not so tough after all, huh? I can't see why Malfoy couldn't destroy you. You aren't half of what your parents are. You're nothing but an empty celebrity for no reason other than name." Murtov leaned close to him.
Timothy lost control.
"You just wait! My parents will get you! Once Peacecraft gets here the whole school will be awake and notified, and my parents will be here faster than you can say 'not-guilty'!"
Murtov only laughed.
"Oh really? Rest assured, little one, I've made sure our little get together here goes undisturbed. Besides, how can anyone save you if you're not even here to be saved?"
Timothy bit his lip, confused and frightened, as Murtov drew out her wand. Luna grabbed his arm and he made no move to dislodge her, too concentrated on Murtov to care.
"Time to put you where you couldn't possibly come back to ruin my plans! A friend of mine is very eager to meet you. Consider yourself lucky you get a traveling companion, Potter, Malfoy will be most pleased to know that I took care of that fool behind you as well."
Before Timothy could pull out his wand in a feeble attempt to protect them, Murtov arched her wand over her head, building power from the beginnings of a spell-
"Historicatim Bandiosa!"
Timothy was hit square in the stomach by a force that felt as if a building was rammed into him. Wind began to scream past his ears, as well as his own yells and Luna's own screams. He felt himself falling backward, backward and backward for what seemed like an eternity. The library disappeared in a flash of white light and a swirling vertex of black and white filled his vision. His stomach dropped down to his feet it seemed, and the pressure pushing him back did not ease. Then suddenly, after it felt like he was going to loose consciousness, the pressure ceased and he free-felled to land in a heap on hard ground. The wind was knocked out of him, made worse when Luna suddenly appeared above him and landed flat on his stomach. She panted laboriously, her short hair falling into Timothy's gasping mouth and making it even more difficult for him to breath. He began to hit her roughly in the side to push her off.
"Ow, hey!" Luna rolled to land beside him. Timothy quickly sat up, hitting his chest until finally he managed to suck in air into his lungs.
"Idiot!" He cried, gasping. "I couldn't breathe!"
"Well you didn't have to beat me up!" Luna retorted angrily.
They glared at each other while Timothy caught his breath, then finally took notice that they were no longer in the library.
"Where are we?" Luna asked, fear edging in her voice.
They were lying across a dirt path at the edge of a forest and a large expanse of meadow.
"Doesn't look like Hogwarts, that's for sure." Timothy whispered, looking around.
"Uhmm, Timothy?" Luna squeaked suddenly, looking behind him.
"What?" he turned, only to be looking dead on at the blade of a sword.
"Thieves!" cried the owner of the sword, a knight dressed in full armor.
"I believe we're definitely not at Hogwarts." Luna whispered fearfully.
"Really? What makes you say that?" Timothy asked sarcastically.
"Thieves!" the knight accused again, pressing the blade closer to Timothy's neck.
"Not thieves," Timothy said to him carefully. "Students."
He didn't even see the iron-gloved hand come at him when the world went black.
A/N: Whoa, cliffhanger! Well? Surprising, huh? Ever expect this to happen? The good thing to know is, that I did! I have the whole story planned, unlike my others. So, where are they? Or... should I ask, when are they? Muhahahahah! Don't worry, it'll be good, I promise. Just be sure to tell me what you think in a nice little review below, only take ya a sec. Peachies? Alrighty! I'll try very hard to get 9 up before spring break ends :-(... school is evil, especially when there is an evil little report card waiting for me there. OK, gotta go!
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~OrcaPotter