A/N: Hey! Now, if this chapter isn't interesting, I don't know what is. Mundo juicy info and goings-on that surprised even myself as I came up with it! Please, let me know how you're liking this, I know you're reading! Review! There will be info in an A/N at the end regarding some things in this chapter, but right now, READ and ENJOY!
Chapter Nine: Future Meets Past
"Timothy, Timothy wake up!"
His head felt as if it was split in two. Everything was still black and his body ached while being rocked violently from side to side.
"C'mon, wake up!"
Timothy groaned and lifted his hand to feel his head. He felt something wet around his bangs and when he opened his eyes just enough to see his fingers, they were covered in blood.
"What happened?" he struggled to sit up, but the rocking motion kept making him sprawl flat on his stomach.
"That knight popped you a good one back there," Luna's voice whispered in his ear. "An unprovoked attack if you ask me. As for where we are, we're on the back of a cart."
He strained to keep his eyes open. Daylight burned through his eyelids only confusing him more. It had been nighttime at Hogwarts, how come they were suddenly outside and in daylight? And what about the knight? There weren't any knights at Hogwarts except for the suits of armor littered around the corridors.
"Luna, we've got to get out of here." Timothy muttered, straining his arms to keep him still as the cart rumbled over some stones.
"Kinda hard to do that with the walking tin cans around us." She whispered hoarsely.
"There's more of them?"
"About five, and they all think we're thieves. I tried to ask them what it was we have supposed to have stolen, but they don't say a word." Luna explained desperately.
"Do you know where they're taking us?" Timothy whispered back.
"No."
"You still have your wand?" Timothy asked with a sudden idea.
After a moment's pause, Luna nodded.
"Yes… but… we can't use magic! We're not on school property and we'll get in trouble with the Ministry for using unsupervised magic!"
Timothy rolled his eyes, feeling around in his robes for his own wand.
"Think about it, Luna. Don't you think there's an exception to the rule in this situation?"
"If we get in trouble it's all your fault." Luna grumbled reluctantly, readying her wand for Timothy's instructions.
"By all means be my guest," Timothy flipped on his back. "Just yell out the first spell that comes to mind on my mark, got it?"
She nodded and set her eyes in determination.
"NOW!"
With shots of red sparks, Timothy shouted the jelly-legs spell and Luna cried out the spell for levitation. The knight walking to the side of the cart was suddenly shot a full fifty feet straight up into the air, and the knight walking behind them began to wobble and fell face flat into the dirt road.
"Run! Run for the trees! Run!" Timothy scooted off the cart and bolted back up the path. Luna wasn't far behind, but couldn't catch up because she was simply too short. The three remaining knights who were in front of the cart began to draw their swords and cry out to them to stop.
"WITCH!"
"DEMONS!"
"STOP!"
Because of their armor, they did not give chase, but that didn't stop Timothy and Luna from running as fast as they could toward the forest they had landed beside before the knights apprehended them.
"Hurry up!" Timothy called over his shoulder to Luna. "C'mon!"
"I'm… running… as fast… as I can… you git!" she panted.
After ten minutes of running, however, the forest was only starting to become visible on the horizon. Timothy's muscles ached, but he was determined not to stop until he found refuge from the knights should they show up again. There was a soft thud behind him and he slowed down just enough to look over his shoulder. Luna had collapsed to her knees, gasping for air.
"Can't… can't… too tired. Stop here… please?"
Timothy stopped and ran back to her, running his hands through his hair and wincing at the pain on his forehead from the gash the knight had left when he had hit him.
"It's only a little ways ahead, you can make it. C'mon, you can do it." He gently pulled up on her arm to help her to her feet. With a little resistance, she tried to keep up at a brisk walk in his wake. All the while he encouraged her on. "That's it… just a little further."
Finally, they reached the edge of the forest, and nearly collapsed under the first tree they came to. Luna leaned against the trunk, doubled over on her knees, trying to calm her breathing. Timothy himself closed his eyes to try to make sense of everything. What had happened? Tuvok- no… Murtov cursed them both with a spell he had never heard before. What did she do? Did she banish them to some sort of tourist attraction in the country gone horribly wrong? Maybe there weren't even in England anymore, perhaps France. Did France still have medieval knights walking around accusing people of being thieves and whacking them across the face without question? No, that was a stupid thought, the knights spoke English. No… no, it wasn't a matter of where… it was when.
"Luna," he muttered hoarsely. "Luna, I don't think it's the year 2020 anymore."
She looked up at him, red in the eyes.
"That woman sent us back in time, then. That explains the knights. But, how far back in time?"
Timothy swallowed hard, wanting Luna to had argued with him. If they were in fact back in time… who knew what would happen? Malfoy would take over the wizarding world, eventually eliminating all the half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and eventually all the Muggles themselves. His family would be killed. And himself and Luna? What were they to do? Murtov had said there was a friend of hers who wanted to meet them… they had to get out of the area, and fast.
"Let's find out, we can't stay here. No doubt Murtov's friend will be by soon to 'meet' us." Timothy struggled to his feet.
Luna didn't move.
"Where're we gonna go, huh? If we are back in time, there's no place to go! Everyone we know hasn't been born yet… we haven't even been born yet."
Timothy tried hard to keep his patience, his head aching from being knocked out and his entire body sore from running.
"Look, you want to meet up with whoever comes walking over here to kill us, that's fine with me. I'm going to go look for a town or something where I can get some answers." He stared at her a moment, then began to walk onto the path.
"How come you're so rude?!" Luna cried, on all fours on the grass and glaring at him.
"How come you're so nasty all of a sudden?" he countered, hands on his hips.
Their eyes met for a moment, then Luna suddenly burst into tears. Timothy blanched, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to come up with something to say that would calm her. Luna curled up into a ball on the grass, body shaking as she sobbed.
"I… I didn't mean…" he ran his hands through his hair.
She continued to cry, shaking her head and mumbling words that made no sense. Timothy was beside himself, feeling ashamed for being so cold to her and indifferent from how she must have felt. It wasn't like him at all to act that way toward someone, but the dramatic change in Luna's behavior made him loose his patience amongst his own fears. He stood there, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he awkwardly watched Luna pour every tear. Finally, guilt overtook him and he got on his knees, rubbing her back gently like his parents would do when he was upset.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, hanging his head. "I'm just scared too."
"Oh Timothy!" she suddenly got up and flung her arms around his neck, now sobbing into his shoulder. "Timothy, I'm so scared! I'm all alone! Everything's my fault!"
Timothy grimaced, feeling his uniform sleeve become damp with her tears and gasping as she clung to his neck.
"It's not your fault! It was Murtov who did this. And you're not alone, we're here together and we're going to get back together."
After a few moments, Luna's cry became a whimper, until finally she stopped and pulled away from Timothy. She avoided his eyes, most likely feeling embarrassed.
"Well, let's… let's go find… let's go…"
"It'll be alright, c'mon." Timothy smiled shyly and got up. After a moment, Luna followed suit, and the two of them began to walk down the path in the other direction. By the look of the sun, Timothy observed, it was past mid-day. They kept a weary eye out for anyone pursuing them and ducked away at one point when a very large old red headed man rushed up the path on horseback. He was dressed, sure enough, in medieval attire. By the looks of him, he must have been some sort of lord. Timothy got a bad feeling from him as he went past, and breathed easier once the rider was out of sight in the other direction. Heading back down the path as the light outside began to dwindle, Timothy could just make out firelight on the horizon.
"Look! I think I see something!" he tugged on Luna's arm.
She shaded her eyes from the setting sun and looked where he was pointing. Picking up their pace, the sight of a village came into view. Straw-roofed huts and wood-shingled houses with lighted windows were clustered around the path road. The strong smell of hay, dirt, and other smells that were too disgusting to think about filled their noses as they reached the first hut. People, or peasants Timothy figured, were busily going about their business.
"Excuse me, sir," Timothy walked up to a man about his father's age, all muddy and smelling strongly of manure. "Can you tell me what town this is?"
The man took one look at him and Luna and wrinkled his nose as if it were them that smelled bad.
"Eh, go back where yeh came from! This town don't need the likes of you." And he walked off.
"So much for medieval courtesy." Timothy mumbled, watching the man go.
"That is medieval courtesy," Luna said, tugging on his arm to keep moving. "We're lucky he didn't stone us to death in welcome."
As they walked further into the village, the various peasants that were walking about stopped and stared as they went past. The looks on their faces made Timothy nervous, it was as if they expected him and Luna to suddenly explode.
"Timothy," Luna whispered up to his ear as they kept walking. "You don't think that they think that we're thieves too, do you?"
He shrugged, letting out a slow unsteady breath as Luna walked closer against him. They both tried to act casual, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stares from the townsfolk, when Timothy noticed something.
"Our uniforms. Our Hogwarts uniforms, they make us stand out. Maybe that's why they're staring, they're Muggles after all."
"Should we take them off and hide them somewhere?" Luna asked.
Before he could answer, there was a shrill scream ahead of them and a lot of gasps. They ran up to the commotion to see a small boy trapped under a cart in a muddy part of the path road. His mother was wailing and crying, pacing around the cart and yelling for help. But none of the onlookers made any move to assist the boy, who was turning blue from lack of air.
"Help! Please, someone help my little boy, please! Please, someone do something!" the mother begged.
"Why isn't anyone helping her?" Luna asked, shocked.
Timothy looked around quickly to see if anyone was coming to help, but not a soul made a move. When the mother began to sob loudly, the boy no longer moving, Timothy pulled his wand out.
"Timothy! We can't…!" Luna cried, pulling back on his robes.
"We just can't stand here and watch the boy die!" he pulled himself free and fought his way to the front of the crowd. Half of his mind was screaming to stop, but the sight of the dying boy made him ready his wand anyway and shout "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The cart instantly began to rumble and rose ten feet into the air. Everyone watching was shell shocked, staring with gaping mouths up at the cart. The mother, too, was frozen in place, looking up at the cart with all color lost. When still no one moved, Timothy pocketed his wand quickly and pulled the boy from his spot. The boy began to gasp and sputter, normal color rushing back to his cheeks. Timothy was relieved, for he didn't know CPR if the boy needed it. After a moment, the cart crashed back down into place. Everyone was dead silent.
"Well, er… ma'am?" Timothy dragged the boy over to her as she blinked doubtfully at him. "Your little boy will be OK now."
She suddenly grabbed the boy with one movement and recoiled away from him in utter horror. Timothy started and Luna came to stand beside him, shaking her head.
"Er… Timothy? I think we need to get out of here, like… right now!"
Timothy looked around them as the other onlookers wore the same expression as the mother. He swallowed quickly and got to his feet.
"DEMONS!"
"WITCHES!"
"SORCERORS!"
"Kill them! Kill them!"
"Burn them! Burn them!"
"Get them! Don't let them get away!"
"RUN!" Timothy yelled, grabbing Luna's hand and taking off at full speed through the crowd before they could organize. They zigzagged past carts full of dirt and hay, stands selling produce, knocking down other people as they ran past. All the while, the crowd of onlookers-turned-angry mob grabbed pitchforks and large wooden poles as they ran after them.
"What are we going to do?!" Luna cried helplessly, looking back over her shoulder. "They're gonna kill us!"
"Just keep running! We'll find a place to hide!" Timothy began to pant.
They came to a three-way intersection in the path road, slowing down as they hesitated on which way to go. The uproar from the mob behind them got the attention of the other villagers, and men began to rush out of huts and houses toward them. Hesitating proved to be a mistake, for the momentary pause before they started running again was just enough for them to become surrounded. Timothy let go of Luna and whirled around on his heels, frantically searching for a place to hide. But there was none, and soon they were both encircled by the angry mob.
"Timothy!" Luna cried, clutching on to him.
"Quick! What spell do you think will make them go away?" he pulled out his wand again.
"I don't know! And using magic only makes things worse, if you haven't noticed!" Luna muttered impatiently.
"WITCHES!"
"SORCERORS!"
"Die! Die! Die!"
"Burn the evil doers! Evil! Evil!"
Timothy was too frightened to get his mind to think clearly enough to come up with a spell that would help. Magic or not, these people clearly didn't want him and Luna around. Their uniforms weren't helping either; there was no way to prove now that they weren't a witch and wizard.
"Let's hang 'em and set 'em on fire!" shouted a woman who had stepped forward with her pitchfork, glaring at Timothy menacingly.
Oh, God no… Timothy moaned in his mind.
"I say we tie them to rocks and throw them in the lake!" an old man with wobbly knees cried.
"Let's just eat them!" yelled an elderly lady. To Timothy's horror, the crowd murmured in agreement.
"We're gonna die!" Luna began to cry, fingernails digging into Timothy's arm.
Just as the circle of human-hungry peasants began to pounce on them, Luna now clinging to Timothy like a third arm and both of them shaking as they cringed in utter fear, someone jumped out in front of them.
"Get back! Leave 'em be! I'm warning you!"
Timothy opened one eye carefully to see a young man, about several years older than him, putting himself between Timothy and Luna and the mob.
"He's one of 'em!" the mob shouted, advancing faster.
Instinctively, Timothy and Luna stumbled backward, but the young man stood his ground. He rose his hand high above his head, crouching to build power. His hand suddenly began to glow a blue color and emanate a loud humming sound. With a turbulent grunt, he swung his arm down in one swift movement, opening his hand to the throw the blue power onto the ground. Instantly, there was an explosion. The mob fell back with shrill screams of terror, running away like frightened deer. However, some of the braver mob members began to double back. Timothy and Luna merely stood shell-shocked, huddled together.
"Come on, before they come back!"
In a blur of movement, the young man took each of them in his amazingly strong hands, and ran flat-out down the path road. All Timothy could manage was keeping his pace up with him as they blurred past befuddled peasants and continued running out of the village and back up the path. Yells of protest followed them until the sun had nearly set, oranges and purples providing the only light in the sky. Only then did they stop running.
"I… thought… we… were done… for!" Timothy doubled over as they came to a halt. Luna could only shake her head, wheezing and on her knees.
Suddenly remembering the young man who had saved them, who was now panting with his arms crossed before them on the path, did Timothy remember to express his gratitude.
"Thank you… for saving us… back there."
It was now too dark to see the young man clearly, but he was definitely taller than Timothy was.
"You could have gotten killed! Have yeh parents taught yeh no brains? You don't go 'round doing magic in front of the Muggle folk! And what's with the fan fair you're wearing, eh? Do you want to be marked to die a gruesome death?"
The young man's voice was deep, although clearly young and healthy, compared to those Timothy heard in the village. His voice had a touch of exasperation, anger, but mostly concern. The feeling Timothy got from this fellow was of someone they could trust.
"Er… sorry," Timothy said sheepishly. "We're… we're not from around here."
"We were just scared, that's all." Luna added, after catching her breath. Timothy tensed and mentally cursed her for admitting that they both were, as truthful a statement as it was.
Timothy could see the young man nod.
"Well, just be sure to stay clear of the villagers from now on, then. Where yeh from anyway?"
Timothy and Luna looked at each other, not sure how to answer.
"A long, long, long way away." Timothy replied quietly, dropping his head.
"Where're yeh parents?" his voice grew sympathetic.
"Where we came from… and they don't know where we are." Luna answered. Timothy glanced at her a moment, surprised that she made it seemed that both their parents were left behind… while hers were dead.
"Well, it's dark out and dangerous here. I'll take you two to my place and we'll continue talking there." And without hesitating, the young man turned on his heels and began walking down the path. After a moment, Timothy and Luna quickly sped up to follow close behind.
"Stay next to me, we're too close to the village for me to conjure a mage-light. Someone may see us." The young man said over his shoulder. Timothy and Luna did not protest.
As they walked for what seemed like an hour, Timothy couldn't help but to study the young man who had saved them. Whatever it was that he had used to ward off the mob, it was powerful magic, and done without the use of a wand. In fact, he didn't seem to have a wand. From what Timothy could make out in the darkness, the young man wore a waist-length tunic fastened with a thick belt. Under the tunic, he wore a light long-sleeved shirt. His shoes were simple hard leather boots, buckled over the hems of tight fitting leggings. There couldn't be any more proof that this was the Middle Ages.
Both Timothy and Luna were thoroughly exhausted. Luna was now leaning on Timothy's arm, tripping over unseen rocks every once in a while. The young man glanced back at them often, either to see if they were still with him or if they were all right. It seemed like forever until the faint glow of torchlight caught Timothy's eyes. A small, barn-like structure with a single lit torch came into view.
"Good thing I lit the torch before I left, 'eh?" the young man said brightly, shepherding them into the building. It was a barn, really, with the floor covered in straw. When the young man lit a candle with just a flick of his wrist, Timothy could see that it was very small inside. A straw covered bed was in a corner. A pile of wood under a kettle hanging in midair without a visible support was in the center. Shelves lining the walls held miscellaneous old books and instruments Timothy didn't recognize.
The young man walked over to the wood under the kettle and waved his hand over it in a practiced fashion. Instantly, fire ignited and bloomed while he strode over to a bucket and began to pour water in the kettle.
"Have a seat, won't you?" he indicated the floor. Luna didn't have to be asked twice, and dropped to a heap on the spot. Timothy hesitated a moment before following suit. Now that there was enough light to see properly, he could make out the young man's features. His hair was jet-black and long, stopping almost at his shoulders. It was somewhat disheveled, as if he had run his hands through his hair too long. The young man's eyes momentarily came into the light revealing them to be brown in color. However, as he began to drop tealeaves into the kettle, Timothy could almost say that this man looked familiar. If it were modern day, this guy could pass as his father's brother, almost.
When the kettle began to whistle after several minutes of quiet, the only sounds coming from the night creatures outside, the young man upturned his palm to conjure up three small cups. Timothy stared, fascinated. He had never seen a wizard do that much magic without a wand or some other magical aid before. When he was passed his cup of steaming tea, Timothy fixed his eyes on the young man's hands.
"You both look downright awful," the young man said soothingly. "What are you too doing running through a Muggle town doing magic alone?"
"We were chased there," Timothy explained as he sipped the hot liquid in his cup. "Some knights thought we stole something. Before we could tell them we weren't, one of them knocked me out."
"Emm, yes… that's a nasty bruise on your head." The young man nodded. "Continue."
"Well, when I came to, both of us were on a cart heading for somewhere. So, we used our wands and used some spells to distract them so that we could get away,"
"Wands?!" The young man cried suddenly in surprise. "Goodness! Are yeh parents rich? Why, I wouldn't be able to afford one if I save my entire life! Makes it so much easier, yes? If only I had one, then ol' Master Crouch could lay off me with the lessons, he would."
"You don't have one?" Timothy asked uselessly. "No wonder you use your hands to do magic for everything. I could never do that, not even my parents, I think."
"Of course! You'd have to be the king himself to afford one. I've talked with the shopkeeper down in one of the last magic communities, Hogsmeade, I think it's called. Anyway, the keeper had to raise prices ages ago, when the taxes got too high. Ollivander, I think his name was."
Timothy swallowed his tea hard. At least Hogsmeade existed, and Mr. Ollivander's ancestor as well. No doubt he was just as creepy as the modern day one.
"So, you two ran into the village and decided to run amuck with your fancy wands, eh? No doubt your master'll be upset with you. Where is he, anyhow? And what about your partner there, where's her mistress?"
"Uhh…" Timothy looked over at Luna, who had put aside her cup and was now fast asleep against his shoulder. "We don't have a master or mistress, sir. We're not really from around here at all."
"Then who…?" the young man started, but shook his head. "Ah, well, you both have been through too much tonight. You just kip on my bed over there and I'll take the loft outside. We can sort things out in the morning."
"Thank you, mister… mister, er…" Timothy yawned.
"Oh, how stupid of me! The name's Patrick…. Patrick Potter."
Timothy felt his heart stop, eyes going wide as he looked at his ancestor.
"Pot… Pott… Pot-t-t-er?" he studdered.
"Yeah, and who might you be, young'n?" Patrick laughed.
"Timothy P-… I…" he thought quickly, would it be wise for him to know that he was his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson, more or less? "Springs. Timothy Springs."
"Nice to meet you, Timothy Springs. I take it that's your sister?" he pointed to the sleeping form of Luna.
"No," Timothy shook his head sleepily, all surprise gone as exhaustion took him again. "No… that's… that's Luna Dine."
Whatever Patrick said afterwards, Timothy didn't hear. His eyes slid shut against his will and the darkness of sleep overtook him. He slumped against Luna as Patrick quickly took their cups. The crackling of the fire and the soft breathing of the two kids were the only sounds heard in the barn, as Patrick quietly conjured the cups away and stood up in a stretch. He looked down on them for a moment, staring particularly at Timothy. After hesitating and muttering disgruntled comments about his master, Patrick bent down and gingerly picked Timothy up in his surprising strong arms and put him in his bed. He went back to get Luna and set her beside him. Then, as he lightly brushed aside Timothy's bangs to look at the bruise left by the knight's blow, he pointed his other hand to his shelf. A bottle of healing herbs floated to him, and with a cloth, Patrick dabbed some of the potion on Timothy's forehead.
"There now," he whispered, sending the potion bottle back and tossing the cloth away. "Sleep well."
With a wide motion of his hand, the fire went out, bringing darkness around them. Patrick got up and left, checking to see that things were well before shutting the door behind him.
"'Night… dad." Timothy turned over.
The sounds of falling logs and chirping of birds stirred Timothy from his sleep. He turned on his other side, groping for his pillow. His father must be putting fresh wood in the fireplace, he thought. He had had the strangest dream… an evil woman at Hogwarts had banished both him and Luna Dine back in time, only to meet his ancestor and be chased by knights. However, as the sounds did not cease, waking him further, Timothy noticed that his bed sheets were very uncomfortable and opened his eyes.
His heart skipped a beat as he sat bolt upright. He was in a straw-covered bed, next to Luna, who was still asleep. It hadn't been a dream. They were in his ancestor's barn.
Timothy carefully climbed off the bed and slowly walked to the flimsy wooden door to the outside. He opened it a bit and saw Patrick stacking wood against the barn wall. The sawdust and hay was very thick, and Timothy let out a controlled sneeze.
"Ah, you're awake!" Patrick turned to see him, rubbing off sawdust on his dark green tunic. "Thought you never would. You both been asleep for nearly two days!"
"Two days?" Timothy asked incredulously. He did feel a lot better now that he was rested. Even his head didn't hurt anymore from where the knight had knocked him out.
"Did you good, I see." Patrick came closer to look him over. Timothy felt strange being scrutinized by his ancestor. "You're head fell better?"
"Like new," Timothy smiled. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Patrick smiled back, suddenly looking behind him. "'Morning, m'lady."
Luna had walked out following Timothy, squinting in the bright morning sun.
"What time is it?" she asked groggily.
"I'd say it'd be about close to noon, I guess." Patrick glanced up at the sky a moment. "You two hungry?"
"Yes." They both said in union. Timothy hadn't realized how hungry he was, the last time he had eaten anything was dinner with this family. That had been nearly three days prior, but it felt like forever.
Patrick smiled and walked around them to go back inside. They followed eagerly, watching as Patrick conjured another fire and summoned a frying pan from a shelf on the wall. Then, seemingly out of his pocket, he pulled out some bacon slices and tossed it on the pan to sizzle. Next, out of a pocket in front of his tunic, he took out three eggs.
"How you like your eggs?" he asked as he cracked them open on the edge of the pan and poured the contents in with the cooking bacon. The barn quickly filled with the aroma of breakfast, making Timothy's mouth water.
"Scrambled." Luna replied.
"Same here." Timothy added.
"Now," Patrick began as he conjured some plates with a flick of his wrist and began to serve them. "You told me the other night that you're not from around here, correct?"
"Yes." Timothy answered, taking his plate and pausing as he waited for a fork.
"Something wrong?" Patrick asked, seeing Timothy sitting there expectantly.
"I need a fork." Timothy answered him obviously.
"Fork? Goodness, boy! You really must be a prince or something! Sorry, chap, but that's what fingers are for." Patrick laughed, handing Luna her plate.
Luna nudged Timothy in the shoulder and began to down her food hungrily. Timothy silently cursed himself for not paying more attention in History of Magic. Naturally they wouldn't have modern luxuries like forks. Well, forks weren't a new thing, but like Patrick said, only the rich had them. Without further ado, he began to eat as Patrick picked at his own food.
"Well then, anyway, as I was saying… so, you have no where to go?"
Timothy and Luna shook their heads.
"Hmm…" Patrick murmured to himself seriously, his lighthearted expression hardening. "I'm not entirely sure what to do."
"We're sorry to be a nuisance," Timothy swallowed. "All we need is… well, to find a way back home."
"You said home was far away, how far is it?" Patrick asked.
Timothy and Luna looked at each other, chewing more slowly. Timothy had already covered for them by using his mother's maiden name, or, in sudden realization, his uncle's name. If they were to tell Patrick that they were from the future and the reasons they were sent back, it might blow their cover.
"Your clothes," Patrick said without answer. "I've never seen cloaks like that before."
They both looked down at their Hogwarts uniforms and colored slightly.
"Er… well, they're school uniforms." Timothy replied carefully.
"School uniforms? You sure you're not part of a royal family? I've never heard of anyone else going to school." Patrick looked at them skeptically.
"Where else would you learn magic?" Luna said before Timothy could stop her.
Patrick laughed.
"Where else would you…! My! From your master and lord, that's where! You mean to tell me that you both haven't been apprenticed to a wizard and witch yet?"
"Apprenticed?" they both wondered out loud.
"Goodness me, have you got me at a weird end." Patrick ran his hands through his hair much like Timothy did. "As much as I wouldn't mind having an apprentice, I can't! I'm one myself! I'm not a fully learned wizard just yet, if Master Crouch doesn't let me go. And he can't have more than one apprentice, he said so himself a while back. He's too old now. As for you, Luna, well… I'm not sure about the local witch."
Timothy swallowed the rest of his breakfast quickly.
"We're not asking to be apprenticed, just sent home," he struggled mentally to determine if telling him the next thing was a mistake. "Patrick? Do you know enough magic to send people… people through time?"
Patrick blinked at him.
"Through time? Well… no, sorry. Why?"
Both Timothy and Luna sagged in disappointment. Timothy began to loose hope, thinking he was forever trapped in the middle ages and had failed his destiny. Murtov and Malfoy's plan had succeeded after all.
"Why?" Patrick asked again. "You… you don't mean to tell me…?"
"We need a lift back to the year 2020." Luna muttered dispiritedly.
Patrick stared at them both for what seemed like several awkward minutes.
"You're… you're from the future?" Patrick asked hoarsely.
"An evil witch in our time used a spell and sent us back here. We know that there's someone in this time that knows we're here and wants to kill us." Timothy explained.
"Why would someone do something so horrible to you both?"
Timothy sighed, what use was there now to withhold the entire truth?
"She was working for an evil wizard that wants to get rid of all the impurities and rule the world. That wizard wants my parents dead, for they are a very powerful witch and wizard together. However, I am the only one that can destroy him… it's my destiny. I was supposed to find my family crest, which would help me kill him, I guess. But I didn't find it… I… I… didn't want to. I was too afraid. That was my mistake… his spy came to my school and managed to send me back in time to put me away. Luna was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, although the wizard wanted her dead too. He already killed her parents."
Patrick took a deep breath and considered them both for a long moment.
"What is your name, really?" he asked Timothy directly.
"Timothy," he whispered, hanging his head to hide his tears, feeling very ashamed. "Potter."
To his surprise, Patrick didn't gasp or yell or react how he had expected. When Timothy looked up at him, he was looking back at Timothy with a strange expression… he couldn't describe it.
"Well now… well now," he mused slowly.
"We're stuck here, aren't we?" Luna sniffed. "Stuck in the Middle Ages with no place to go!"
"Let's not fret just yet, 'lil miss. We'll think of something." Patrick got up and flexed his arms, acting as if nothing the stranger ever happened to him before. "I better meet up with my master before he becomes too enraged by my two day absence. I didn't want to leave you two alone. Maybe he'll have a better idea as to what to do… who knows? Maybe he can send you back."
"Really?" Timothy got up as well, brushing the straw from his uniform. "Can he?"
"There's a lot the 'ol grouch has yet to teach me." Patrick winked at him.
Twenty minutes later, after helping Patrick bring in wood for the night's fire and other odds and ends, Timothy and Luna followed Patrick through a surrounding wood.
"What's that galloping sound?" Luna whispered apprehensively, walking close to Timothy.
"Unicorns." Patrick answered plainly.
They walked for what seemed like two hours, not saying a word, until Patrick suddenly asked:
"You go to Hogwarts, right?"
"Yes," Timothy replied. "Is it near by?"
"Emm, more or less."
"I thought every magical child was admitted there." Luna said.
"Yes, they are." Patrick said grimly.
"Why didn't you go?" Timothy asked.
He stopped and looked back at them, his face set.
"These are not peaceful times… haven't been since before I was born."
"I'm beginning to think there isn't such a thing as peaceful times." Timothy muttered as they began moving again.
"But, still… the school goes on, right? You still would've been able to go." Luna persisted the subject.
"Mother wouldn't let me." Patrick said simply.
"Your mother wouldn't let you? Why not?"
Patrick shrugged and quickened his pace.
"Why did she-?"
"There he is!" Patrick yelled suddenly before Luna could continue. "Now, just leave the talking to me. Mind your manners."
Both Timothy and Luna put on frowns of protest at such a request as Patrick broke into a run and came up on the top of a cliff. Standing precariously near the edge stood an averaged height but very muscular looking man. Patrick nearly slowed to a crawl as he got closer to him, stretching as tall as he could and nearly matching the man, yet he was too skinny to be a match.
"Where you been, boy?" the man said in a low growl.
Timothy held out his hand to stop Luna from getting any closer. They stood and watched from the tree line as Patrick took a loud gulp.
"I'm very sorry, Master, but I have an excuse." He seemed to try to sound unafraid.
His master turned at that point, revealing a tired, yet strong face that showed old age. Wind whipped at the fine long brown hair that was streaked generously with white. His eyes were dark and piercing, and Patrick seemed to wither to his knees at his stare.
"Oh? While I've been straining to keep his minions back, you've been gallivanting around the countryside for two days with an excuse? Do tell me, boy, how it slipped your mind to summon an owl to inform me, instead of waiting until the third day to make an appearance?"
"No, Master, I wasn't gallivanting… I came across these young'uns in the Muggle village down the path," Patrick motioned for Timothy and Luna to approach. "They were nearly killed before I intervened. I got them out and brought them back to my home, but the two of them were in a bad sort and needed care. These past two days they've been resting in my barn."
Timothy nearly stumbled when Patrick's master turned his eyes sharply upon him and Luna. For what seemed like hours, he seemed to study them.
"You there," he pointed a strong finger at Timothy, almost making him jump. "What's your name"
Timothy immediately looked to Patrick, who stepped forward to stand in front of him and Luna.
"I believe the better question to ask, Master, is when they are from."
"Did I hear you correctly as to say, when?" he crossed his arms and looked at Patrick dubiously. "Are you telling me that these children are from the future?"
The three of them nodded slowly. Patrick's master stared for several moments before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Of all things to happen now! I don't have time for this sort of thing, and Potter, you've already set me back with your absence. No, no… if what I suspect is true, I cannot help you."
Luna let out a stifled cry and Timothy's jaw dropped. Patrick looked at them both worriedly and stepped up to his master, who had turned back to the cliff's edge.
"But Master! They're trapped here, nearly a thousand years in the past! Surely you can send them back, you're the most powerful wizard in these lands."
"No, boy, I'm not the most powerful. You know that. As for these children, I'm sorry, but not only do I not have the time, I don't have the knowledge. I've never done a time spell. Have only heard of such a thing once…" he said without looking at Patrick.
"But-!"
"Don't talk back to me, boy, or you'll regret it! Now send them off and be quick! We still have to set up the perimeters around the vicinity and only you have the legs to handle such a chore."
Timothy's meager hope drained from him like a leaky bucket. Luna was already in tears as Patrick looked back at them apologetically. He was starting down toward them to lead them back through the woods when he stopped suddenly. Patrick looked at Timothy, then quickly turned around and strode to face the back of his master's form.
"With all due respect, Master, I am now responsible for these two."
"Don't be ridiculous," his master suddenly chuckled, his back still turned. "You're too young to take on an apprentice, especially since you're still one yourself. The girl needs a witch, anyway. The only one I know in the area already has an apprentice, and she's older than me… no way will she take a young one like that."
"I am responsible for returning them to their proper time. For you see, this boy here just so happens to be several greats of a grandson of mine. My predecessor." Patrick said calmly.
This made his master turn and look at them all with masked curiosity. He took a long hard look at Timothy, and then at Patrick. Several awkward moments later, Patrick still standing up to his master boldly, he nodded his head.
"So, you're name would be?" he cocked his head at Timothy.
"Timothy. Timothy Potter." He replied in a weak voice.
"Emm… and you, little lady?"
"Luna Dine, sir." Luna's voice quivered.
He looked at Patrick with a vague expression, taking in a deep breath.
"There's only one person I know that may know the spell that could send them back. I'll help you, but our priority is Welles, understood?"
"Yes, Master." Patrick smiled at them all.
Timothy and Luna beamed with newfound hope.
Patrick's master introduced himself as William Crouch, one of the few wizards left still "battling the revolution", as he put it. Timothy realized that he and Luna had been sent back to when Christianity was converting the people from "the Old Ways". Magic was now seen as works of evil, and non-magical people were donned the name of "Muggles" as the practice lost believers. This had been going on for over a hundred years, and now nearly all the wizards and witches had spread out in hiding… magic becoming concealed. One wizard, however, refused to hide and became enraged by the turn of the times. His name was Lord Welles, a very powerful wizard of the darkest arts. He wanted to rid the land of the Muggle folk and return the reign of magic, with him as king. Hardly anyone stood in his way, and many villages had plundered in ruin at his power. Crouch, despite the ridicule from Muggles, only wanted peace- accepting the change of beliefs and willing to form a truce. It was him that battled Welles, and him that Welles feared. However, he was becoming old, and Patrick was accepted as his apprentice to replace him.
"That's why my mum brought me to him… he asked for me by name. He knew my grandfather, who was a very powerful wizard himself. Saved the kingdom, he did. My father tried to keep peace in his place, but was killed. Now it's up to me… he may not act like it, but Master Crouch cares very much. He's a good man, and a good teacher." Patrick explained as they followed Crouch to an unknown destination.
"How did your grandfather save the kingdom?" Timothy asked, fascinated.
"He was a close friend of Godric Gryffindor, one of the Hogwarts school founders. My father told me, before he was killed, that Gryffindor gave him a gift- a weapon, actually, that would destroy Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders who had gone evil."
Timothy nearly stopped dead in his tracks, staring open mouthed at Patrick as Luna collided into his back.
"Hey!" she yelped.
"What happened?"
"Well… not sure, actually. From what I remember, my father said that he had managed to kill him. Only, Slytherin was so powerful, that at the last minute he trapped his spirit in some form… my grandfather only managed to lock him away in the castle somewhere, far from anyone's reach. No one knows for sure, Godric Gryffindor died a short while after with the secret taken with him. Whatever and where ever it is, it's known as the Chamber of Secrets. My grandfather swore never to tell a soul. What's wrong, Timothy? You look pale."
"What… what was the weapon he used?" Timothy asked breathlessly.
"Er… a crest. A crest of our surname."
Timothy nearly fainted. Patrick took hold of his shoulders before he could fall, stopping in their path and making Crouch pause to look back at them.
"Better carry you on my back. Must not be used to all this nature walking, eh?" he said lightheartedly, but glanced at Crouch nervously since they were hindering their progress. Before Timothy could say anything, Patrick took hold of his upper arms and swung him onto his strong back. Luna couldn't help but let out a soft giggle as Timothy flushed and Patrick broke into a trot to make up for the lost distance between them and Crouch.
"The Potter family crest." Timothy muttered, eyes half shut as he bounced along on Patrick's back.
"Yes," Patrick panted. "The true symbol of our name and a powerful weapon against evil. If only I had it…"
Timothy's eyes flew open.
"You don't have it?! Do you know where it is?!"
"'Fraid not. My grandfather passed it down to my father, and at his instruction, he hid it somewhere. I was too young at the time. My father never told me where he put it before he was killed. My mother refused to tell me about it. So, we may never know."
Timothy groaned, resting his chin on Patrick's shoulder as they pressed on. Before he could ask anything more, Crouch stopped and held up his hand.
"Silence! Patrick, put him down and come here. You children stay where you are."
Patrick gently but quickly lowered Timothy to the ground, winked, and jogged up to where Crouch had his back turned, looking out in front of them where Timothy could make out a large field. They began to mutter to each other, and he strained to hear.
"…many?"
"Not much… sure… torturing Muggles…"
"What… do, Master?"
Crouch turned back to glance at Timothy and Luna, both of them listening intently. Patrick looked slightly worried as he watched his master.
"What's wrong?" Timothy called to him, curiosity winning him over.
"Stay where you are until we return. Under no circumstances are you to come rushing out of these woods without us. Put up a warding charm just in case."
Before Timothy and Luna could protest, not entirely sure they could conjure such a charm, Crouch was already out of sight. Patrick hesitated until Crouch called back to him.
"Wait! You can't just leave us!" Luna cried shrilly, running up to the spot where both adults were standing. But Patrick and Crouch were already gone, the light from the edge of the woods just visible on the horizon.
"Luna, they said for us to stay here!" Timothy jogged after her.
"Well we can't stay here, what if those knights show up or something? What'll we do?" she fretted.
"Crouch said to conjure a warding charm." Timothy said, digging in his robes for his wand.
"And do we know how to conjure a warding charm?" Luna crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly.
Timothy thought a moment and blinked.
"Well… I… I… er, well my father did it once in front of me a long time ago. But… no, I don't know how. Do you?"
"If I did would I have asked you?" Luna rolled her eyes.
"Well you never know! You could have known and just asked me on spite!" Timothy snapped at her attitude.
"Shows just how much you know then, huh!"
"Why are you so impudent all of a sudden? You used to be so meek." Timothy turned away from her, his own arms crossed.
"To think that I ever thought you were a good guy! I saved your life once, and you still treat me like an annoying bug!" Luna stomped her foot.
Timothy turned to her, eyes flashing.
"What's with you these days?! Yeah, your parents were killed and your life has taken a dive- but it's like you're a different person all of a sudden! I don't know you at all."
"You never knew me to begin with," Luna hissed. "I bet you only came after me for the fame of saving someone- when it was me that saved you… but did I get recognition? No! What I got was a death sentence and a horrible life to live out."
Timothy swelled with anger. Never did he think of such a thing when he went after Luna that last school year. She did look like a different person, trying to stand defiantly up to Timothy, when she was so much smaller. That event completely changed her… and he had no idea how hurt she was inside. Yet, she was acting so unnecessarily at the moment that feeling sorry for her was a remote possibility.
"I went after you because we knew you were in trouble. And I thanked you for ending up helping me. Why are you acting so conflictive?!"
Luna opened her mouth to yell, but the yell they heard did not come from her. The bushes around the trees next to them suddenly moved violently!
"YAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGG!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" They both screamed, Luna backing up into Timothy's arms.
"GET THEM!"
Two knights crashed onto the path, sending Timothy and Luna bolting in the other direction in fear. Too startled and afraid to think, all Timothy managed to do was look back. The knights were trying to catch up to them in their full armor, swords raised over their heads in a fighting position. There seemed to be a strange glow around them, as if powering up energy. Timothy screamed again, grabbing Luna by the waist and lunged to the ground just as a blinding light blew up the air they were once in with a deafening crack.
Luna began to shake violently in fear, her hands clutching Timothy's robes in a vise-like grip. He began to scuttle to his feet and drag her off the path through the woods. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it behind him as the knights lumbered into view. Searching his mind for a spell, he spoke the first one that came to his head just in time before the knights attacked again.
"Alohamora!"
He cursed as he realized that he had just said the opening charm. Thinking them doomed, Timothy squinted his eyes as he watched the knights reel back under the charm. Nothing happened at first, making both knights laugh… but then their armor completely fell off.
"What happened?" Luna panted as Timothy slowed down, beginning to giggle.
The knights fell over as their armor crashed to the ground. Their magical swords dropped to the side as they struggled in the heavy metal. All they were wearing was protective chain mail and they began to curse loudly.
"Let's go before they get themselves together again." Timothy grabbed Luna's hand and they ran to the edge of the forest, where they stopped in shock.
A vast meadow lay before them filled with tall grass. It seemed like a whole army of the very same knights with the magical swords was moving quickly in the green. Shouts and small explosions from the meadow's edge on the far side drew Timothy's eyes. He let out a gasp. Crouch and Patrick were engaged in a furious confrontation with the closer knights. They weren't using wands, but simply shouted incantations and made motions with their hands. It seemed like they were holding the knights at bay, but not for long. There were simply too many of them at too many angles.
"Oh no, Timothy, now what?" Luna asked breathlessly.
The tree they were standing next to suddenly exploded. A knight in the meadow spotted them!
"Run!"
They couldn't turn back where they came from, or they'd meet up with the other two knights again. Running into the field would not be a good idea, either; they'd be running straight into a whole army of them. So they ran at the borderline toward where Crouch and Patrick were kept at bay.
The knights weren't too quick to spot them, but as they drew closer, the knights began to take notice. They aimed their glowing swords toward them, ready to fire. Timothy looked over his shoulder just in time to see Luna get in the knight's aim. She didn't see him.
"Luna, watch out!"
Timothy pushed her out of the way and held out his wand out of instinct.
"NO!" he commanded. The knight swung his sword and with another loud crack, the magic surged out and flew straight at Timothy. However, as Timothy yelled, his own wand began to glow with power and cracked in the air itself. The two magics hit, and the impact threw Timothy a near five feet backward into a tree trunk. Instantly, the air was knocked clear from his lungs. He crumbled to heap, gasping and dizzy. Through his steadily fuzzy vision, Luna could be seen lying on her stomach with her hands covering her head in the dirt. She slowly looked up and searched around her, screeching as she spotted Timothy.
"TIMOTHY!"
She scrambled to her feet but stumbled and fell again. Timothy began to lift his hands to motion for her to keep still, just as he could begin making out a tall figure looming behind her. He squinted, gasping as the air reluctantly began to slip back inside him, and saw that it was a knight. His sword was high above him, glowing in power, but he was fixated on Timothy… he hadn't seen Luna… yet.
"There you are! Hah hah! I'll be rewarded grandly for sure!" the knight yelled triumphantly, lowering his sword, preparing to fire.
Just as the light began to shoot out of the sword, Timothy closing his eyes to take his final blow, there was an angry yell:
"NO!"
Light cracked just as a dark haired figure leapt into it's path, taking the hit in the shoulder, and landed clear on Timothy. It was Patrick! His jet-black hair fell over Timothy's face as he let out a grunt of pain, turning on his side to face the knight.
"Brandmortica!" he shouted, raising his hand palm flat outward in a powerful motion. Instantly, the knight screamed and whatever happened to him… Timothy couldn't tell. Patrick's weight was crushing his already air-deprived lungs. His eyes clouded over as he felt his ancestor struggling to get off… hearing Luna's voice trembling with fear and worry… the deep throated sound of Crouch speaking… and then the memory of the powerful magic he had felt surging through his entire body as he countered the knight's first attack. He hadn't used a spell, all he did was raise his wand. What happened?
"Timothy? Timothy, are you alright?"
"How'd he do that? How did he block that knight's magic like that?"
"He's a wizard, no? He used magic back."
"But… I didn't hear a spell."
"He looks bad, Master Crouch…"
"Aye, better get on to Winter's. Your shoulder, too."
"I'll be alright."
"Timothy, it'll be OK. Hang on."
The last thing he knew, he was being lifted and carried, but not before he heard a small voice in his ear whisper:
"Thank you, Timothy. And, I'm sorry."
A/N: Well! What did you think now? No better time now to review, if I may say so myself, eh? Now, I know already one question you may ask: how did I come to the year 2020? Well, here are the facts-
*Harry and Renee gradutated Hogwarts in 1997 (Hatred's Prisoner)
*Timothy was born 11 years later in June 2008 (Break In the Darkness)
*At his current age of 12, that brings the year to 2020
That seem peachy? Alrighty! Ok, now, well the story really is taking flight now. Will Timothy be OK? Can he find the crest after all? Who the heck are those freaky knights? What happens next? Chapter 10 will tell!
HTTP://WWW.THEWORLDOFRENEEPOTTER.DISNEYFANSITES.COM
Updated often, new books on the recommendation page!
I actually did alright on my report card! C, B, A, A, A, B!! Evil math for giving me the C... arrrgggg... And it didn't help to find out that my friend decided to take a quick trip over to LONDON over spring break and she didn't take me!! Ahck! Oh well... I'll just head over to downtown Orlando and sit at the bus station pretending it's Kings Cross. Oh wait, there's a train station in Sanford... ooo! Well, until I work out my strange issues, you can expect chapter 10 by March 29th. Don't forget to review! Buhbye now!
~OrcaPotter
Chapter Nine: Future Meets Past
"Timothy, Timothy wake up!"
His head felt as if it was split in two. Everything was still black and his body ached while being rocked violently from side to side.
"C'mon, wake up!"
Timothy groaned and lifted his hand to feel his head. He felt something wet around his bangs and when he opened his eyes just enough to see his fingers, they were covered in blood.
"What happened?" he struggled to sit up, but the rocking motion kept making him sprawl flat on his stomach.
"That knight popped you a good one back there," Luna's voice whispered in his ear. "An unprovoked attack if you ask me. As for where we are, we're on the back of a cart."
He strained to keep his eyes open. Daylight burned through his eyelids only confusing him more. It had been nighttime at Hogwarts, how come they were suddenly outside and in daylight? And what about the knight? There weren't any knights at Hogwarts except for the suits of armor littered around the corridors.
"Luna, we've got to get out of here." Timothy muttered, straining his arms to keep him still as the cart rumbled over some stones.
"Kinda hard to do that with the walking tin cans around us." She whispered hoarsely.
"There's more of them?"
"About five, and they all think we're thieves. I tried to ask them what it was we have supposed to have stolen, but they don't say a word." Luna explained desperately.
"Do you know where they're taking us?" Timothy whispered back.
"No."
"You still have your wand?" Timothy asked with a sudden idea.
After a moment's pause, Luna nodded.
"Yes… but… we can't use magic! We're not on school property and we'll get in trouble with the Ministry for using unsupervised magic!"
Timothy rolled his eyes, feeling around in his robes for his own wand.
"Think about it, Luna. Don't you think there's an exception to the rule in this situation?"
"If we get in trouble it's all your fault." Luna grumbled reluctantly, readying her wand for Timothy's instructions.
"By all means be my guest," Timothy flipped on his back. "Just yell out the first spell that comes to mind on my mark, got it?"
She nodded and set her eyes in determination.
"NOW!"
With shots of red sparks, Timothy shouted the jelly-legs spell and Luna cried out the spell for levitation. The knight walking to the side of the cart was suddenly shot a full fifty feet straight up into the air, and the knight walking behind them began to wobble and fell face flat into the dirt road.
"Run! Run for the trees! Run!" Timothy scooted off the cart and bolted back up the path. Luna wasn't far behind, but couldn't catch up because she was simply too short. The three remaining knights who were in front of the cart began to draw their swords and cry out to them to stop.
"WITCH!"
"DEMONS!"
"STOP!"
Because of their armor, they did not give chase, but that didn't stop Timothy and Luna from running as fast as they could toward the forest they had landed beside before the knights apprehended them.
"Hurry up!" Timothy called over his shoulder to Luna. "C'mon!"
"I'm… running… as fast… as I can… you git!" she panted.
After ten minutes of running, however, the forest was only starting to become visible on the horizon. Timothy's muscles ached, but he was determined not to stop until he found refuge from the knights should they show up again. There was a soft thud behind him and he slowed down just enough to look over his shoulder. Luna had collapsed to her knees, gasping for air.
"Can't… can't… too tired. Stop here… please?"
Timothy stopped and ran back to her, running his hands through his hair and wincing at the pain on his forehead from the gash the knight had left when he had hit him.
"It's only a little ways ahead, you can make it. C'mon, you can do it." He gently pulled up on her arm to help her to her feet. With a little resistance, she tried to keep up at a brisk walk in his wake. All the while he encouraged her on. "That's it… just a little further."
Finally, they reached the edge of the forest, and nearly collapsed under the first tree they came to. Luna leaned against the trunk, doubled over on her knees, trying to calm her breathing. Timothy himself closed his eyes to try to make sense of everything. What had happened? Tuvok- no… Murtov cursed them both with a spell he had never heard before. What did she do? Did she banish them to some sort of tourist attraction in the country gone horribly wrong? Maybe there weren't even in England anymore, perhaps France. Did France still have medieval knights walking around accusing people of being thieves and whacking them across the face without question? No, that was a stupid thought, the knights spoke English. No… no, it wasn't a matter of where… it was when.
"Luna," he muttered hoarsely. "Luna, I don't think it's the year 2020 anymore."
She looked up at him, red in the eyes.
"That woman sent us back in time, then. That explains the knights. But, how far back in time?"
Timothy swallowed hard, wanting Luna to had argued with him. If they were in fact back in time… who knew what would happen? Malfoy would take over the wizarding world, eventually eliminating all the half-bloods, Muggle-borns, and eventually all the Muggles themselves. His family would be killed. And himself and Luna? What were they to do? Murtov had said there was a friend of hers who wanted to meet them… they had to get out of the area, and fast.
"Let's find out, we can't stay here. No doubt Murtov's friend will be by soon to 'meet' us." Timothy struggled to his feet.
Luna didn't move.
"Where're we gonna go, huh? If we are back in time, there's no place to go! Everyone we know hasn't been born yet… we haven't even been born yet."
Timothy tried hard to keep his patience, his head aching from being knocked out and his entire body sore from running.
"Look, you want to meet up with whoever comes walking over here to kill us, that's fine with me. I'm going to go look for a town or something where I can get some answers." He stared at her a moment, then began to walk onto the path.
"How come you're so rude?!" Luna cried, on all fours on the grass and glaring at him.
"How come you're so nasty all of a sudden?" he countered, hands on his hips.
Their eyes met for a moment, then Luna suddenly burst into tears. Timothy blanched, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to come up with something to say that would calm her. Luna curled up into a ball on the grass, body shaking as she sobbed.
"I… I didn't mean…" he ran his hands through his hair.
She continued to cry, shaking her head and mumbling words that made no sense. Timothy was beside himself, feeling ashamed for being so cold to her and indifferent from how she must have felt. It wasn't like him at all to act that way toward someone, but the dramatic change in Luna's behavior made him loose his patience amongst his own fears. He stood there, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he awkwardly watched Luna pour every tear. Finally, guilt overtook him and he got on his knees, rubbing her back gently like his parents would do when he was upset.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, hanging his head. "I'm just scared too."
"Oh Timothy!" she suddenly got up and flung her arms around his neck, now sobbing into his shoulder. "Timothy, I'm so scared! I'm all alone! Everything's my fault!"
Timothy grimaced, feeling his uniform sleeve become damp with her tears and gasping as she clung to his neck.
"It's not your fault! It was Murtov who did this. And you're not alone, we're here together and we're going to get back together."
After a few moments, Luna's cry became a whimper, until finally she stopped and pulled away from Timothy. She avoided his eyes, most likely feeling embarrassed.
"Well, let's… let's go find… let's go…"
"It'll be alright, c'mon." Timothy smiled shyly and got up. After a moment, Luna followed suit, and the two of them began to walk down the path in the other direction. By the look of the sun, Timothy observed, it was past mid-day. They kept a weary eye out for anyone pursuing them and ducked away at one point when a very large old red headed man rushed up the path on horseback. He was dressed, sure enough, in medieval attire. By the looks of him, he must have been some sort of lord. Timothy got a bad feeling from him as he went past, and breathed easier once the rider was out of sight in the other direction. Heading back down the path as the light outside began to dwindle, Timothy could just make out firelight on the horizon.
"Look! I think I see something!" he tugged on Luna's arm.
She shaded her eyes from the setting sun and looked where he was pointing. Picking up their pace, the sight of a village came into view. Straw-roofed huts and wood-shingled houses with lighted windows were clustered around the path road. The strong smell of hay, dirt, and other smells that were too disgusting to think about filled their noses as they reached the first hut. People, or peasants Timothy figured, were busily going about their business.
"Excuse me, sir," Timothy walked up to a man about his father's age, all muddy and smelling strongly of manure. "Can you tell me what town this is?"
The man took one look at him and Luna and wrinkled his nose as if it were them that smelled bad.
"Eh, go back where yeh came from! This town don't need the likes of you." And he walked off.
"So much for medieval courtesy." Timothy mumbled, watching the man go.
"That is medieval courtesy," Luna said, tugging on his arm to keep moving. "We're lucky he didn't stone us to death in welcome."
As they walked further into the village, the various peasants that were walking about stopped and stared as they went past. The looks on their faces made Timothy nervous, it was as if they expected him and Luna to suddenly explode.
"Timothy," Luna whispered up to his ear as they kept walking. "You don't think that they think that we're thieves too, do you?"
He shrugged, letting out a slow unsteady breath as Luna walked closer against him. They both tried to act casual, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stares from the townsfolk, when Timothy noticed something.
"Our uniforms. Our Hogwarts uniforms, they make us stand out. Maybe that's why they're staring, they're Muggles after all."
"Should we take them off and hide them somewhere?" Luna asked.
Before he could answer, there was a shrill scream ahead of them and a lot of gasps. They ran up to the commotion to see a small boy trapped under a cart in a muddy part of the path road. His mother was wailing and crying, pacing around the cart and yelling for help. But none of the onlookers made any move to assist the boy, who was turning blue from lack of air.
"Help! Please, someone help my little boy, please! Please, someone do something!" the mother begged.
"Why isn't anyone helping her?" Luna asked, shocked.
Timothy looked around quickly to see if anyone was coming to help, but not a soul made a move. When the mother began to sob loudly, the boy no longer moving, Timothy pulled his wand out.
"Timothy! We can't…!" Luna cried, pulling back on his robes.
"We just can't stand here and watch the boy die!" he pulled himself free and fought his way to the front of the crowd. Half of his mind was screaming to stop, but the sight of the dying boy made him ready his wand anyway and shout "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The cart instantly began to rumble and rose ten feet into the air. Everyone watching was shell shocked, staring with gaping mouths up at the cart. The mother, too, was frozen in place, looking up at the cart with all color lost. When still no one moved, Timothy pocketed his wand quickly and pulled the boy from his spot. The boy began to gasp and sputter, normal color rushing back to his cheeks. Timothy was relieved, for he didn't know CPR if the boy needed it. After a moment, the cart crashed back down into place. Everyone was dead silent.
"Well, er… ma'am?" Timothy dragged the boy over to her as she blinked doubtfully at him. "Your little boy will be OK now."
She suddenly grabbed the boy with one movement and recoiled away from him in utter horror. Timothy started and Luna came to stand beside him, shaking her head.
"Er… Timothy? I think we need to get out of here, like… right now!"
Timothy looked around them as the other onlookers wore the same expression as the mother. He swallowed quickly and got to his feet.
"DEMONS!"
"WITCHES!"
"SORCERORS!"
"Kill them! Kill them!"
"Burn them! Burn them!"
"Get them! Don't let them get away!"
"RUN!" Timothy yelled, grabbing Luna's hand and taking off at full speed through the crowd before they could organize. They zigzagged past carts full of dirt and hay, stands selling produce, knocking down other people as they ran past. All the while, the crowd of onlookers-turned-angry mob grabbed pitchforks and large wooden poles as they ran after them.
"What are we going to do?!" Luna cried helplessly, looking back over her shoulder. "They're gonna kill us!"
"Just keep running! We'll find a place to hide!" Timothy began to pant.
They came to a three-way intersection in the path road, slowing down as they hesitated on which way to go. The uproar from the mob behind them got the attention of the other villagers, and men began to rush out of huts and houses toward them. Hesitating proved to be a mistake, for the momentary pause before they started running again was just enough for them to become surrounded. Timothy let go of Luna and whirled around on his heels, frantically searching for a place to hide. But there was none, and soon they were both encircled by the angry mob.
"Timothy!" Luna cried, clutching on to him.
"Quick! What spell do you think will make them go away?" he pulled out his wand again.
"I don't know! And using magic only makes things worse, if you haven't noticed!" Luna muttered impatiently.
"WITCHES!"
"SORCERORS!"
"Die! Die! Die!"
"Burn the evil doers! Evil! Evil!"
Timothy was too frightened to get his mind to think clearly enough to come up with a spell that would help. Magic or not, these people clearly didn't want him and Luna around. Their uniforms weren't helping either; there was no way to prove now that they weren't a witch and wizard.
"Let's hang 'em and set 'em on fire!" shouted a woman who had stepped forward with her pitchfork, glaring at Timothy menacingly.
Oh, God no… Timothy moaned in his mind.
"I say we tie them to rocks and throw them in the lake!" an old man with wobbly knees cried.
"Let's just eat them!" yelled an elderly lady. To Timothy's horror, the crowd murmured in agreement.
"We're gonna die!" Luna began to cry, fingernails digging into Timothy's arm.
Just as the circle of human-hungry peasants began to pounce on them, Luna now clinging to Timothy like a third arm and both of them shaking as they cringed in utter fear, someone jumped out in front of them.
"Get back! Leave 'em be! I'm warning you!"
Timothy opened one eye carefully to see a young man, about several years older than him, putting himself between Timothy and Luna and the mob.
"He's one of 'em!" the mob shouted, advancing faster.
Instinctively, Timothy and Luna stumbled backward, but the young man stood his ground. He rose his hand high above his head, crouching to build power. His hand suddenly began to glow a blue color and emanate a loud humming sound. With a turbulent grunt, he swung his arm down in one swift movement, opening his hand to the throw the blue power onto the ground. Instantly, there was an explosion. The mob fell back with shrill screams of terror, running away like frightened deer. However, some of the braver mob members began to double back. Timothy and Luna merely stood shell-shocked, huddled together.
"Come on, before they come back!"
In a blur of movement, the young man took each of them in his amazingly strong hands, and ran flat-out down the path road. All Timothy could manage was keeping his pace up with him as they blurred past befuddled peasants and continued running out of the village and back up the path. Yells of protest followed them until the sun had nearly set, oranges and purples providing the only light in the sky. Only then did they stop running.
"I… thought… we… were done… for!" Timothy doubled over as they came to a halt. Luna could only shake her head, wheezing and on her knees.
Suddenly remembering the young man who had saved them, who was now panting with his arms crossed before them on the path, did Timothy remember to express his gratitude.
"Thank you… for saving us… back there."
It was now too dark to see the young man clearly, but he was definitely taller than Timothy was.
"You could have gotten killed! Have yeh parents taught yeh no brains? You don't go 'round doing magic in front of the Muggle folk! And what's with the fan fair you're wearing, eh? Do you want to be marked to die a gruesome death?"
The young man's voice was deep, although clearly young and healthy, compared to those Timothy heard in the village. His voice had a touch of exasperation, anger, but mostly concern. The feeling Timothy got from this fellow was of someone they could trust.
"Er… sorry," Timothy said sheepishly. "We're… we're not from around here."
"We were just scared, that's all." Luna added, after catching her breath. Timothy tensed and mentally cursed her for admitting that they both were, as truthful a statement as it was.
Timothy could see the young man nod.
"Well, just be sure to stay clear of the villagers from now on, then. Where yeh from anyway?"
Timothy and Luna looked at each other, not sure how to answer.
"A long, long, long way away." Timothy replied quietly, dropping his head.
"Where're yeh parents?" his voice grew sympathetic.
"Where we came from… and they don't know where we are." Luna answered. Timothy glanced at her a moment, surprised that she made it seemed that both their parents were left behind… while hers were dead.
"Well, it's dark out and dangerous here. I'll take you two to my place and we'll continue talking there." And without hesitating, the young man turned on his heels and began walking down the path. After a moment, Timothy and Luna quickly sped up to follow close behind.
"Stay next to me, we're too close to the village for me to conjure a mage-light. Someone may see us." The young man said over his shoulder. Timothy and Luna did not protest.
As they walked for what seemed like an hour, Timothy couldn't help but to study the young man who had saved them. Whatever it was that he had used to ward off the mob, it was powerful magic, and done without the use of a wand. In fact, he didn't seem to have a wand. From what Timothy could make out in the darkness, the young man wore a waist-length tunic fastened with a thick belt. Under the tunic, he wore a light long-sleeved shirt. His shoes were simple hard leather boots, buckled over the hems of tight fitting leggings. There couldn't be any more proof that this was the Middle Ages.
Both Timothy and Luna were thoroughly exhausted. Luna was now leaning on Timothy's arm, tripping over unseen rocks every once in a while. The young man glanced back at them often, either to see if they were still with him or if they were all right. It seemed like forever until the faint glow of torchlight caught Timothy's eyes. A small, barn-like structure with a single lit torch came into view.
"Good thing I lit the torch before I left, 'eh?" the young man said brightly, shepherding them into the building. It was a barn, really, with the floor covered in straw. When the young man lit a candle with just a flick of his wrist, Timothy could see that it was very small inside. A straw covered bed was in a corner. A pile of wood under a kettle hanging in midair without a visible support was in the center. Shelves lining the walls held miscellaneous old books and instruments Timothy didn't recognize.
The young man walked over to the wood under the kettle and waved his hand over it in a practiced fashion. Instantly, fire ignited and bloomed while he strode over to a bucket and began to pour water in the kettle.
"Have a seat, won't you?" he indicated the floor. Luna didn't have to be asked twice, and dropped to a heap on the spot. Timothy hesitated a moment before following suit. Now that there was enough light to see properly, he could make out the young man's features. His hair was jet-black and long, stopping almost at his shoulders. It was somewhat disheveled, as if he had run his hands through his hair too long. The young man's eyes momentarily came into the light revealing them to be brown in color. However, as he began to drop tealeaves into the kettle, Timothy could almost say that this man looked familiar. If it were modern day, this guy could pass as his father's brother, almost.
When the kettle began to whistle after several minutes of quiet, the only sounds coming from the night creatures outside, the young man upturned his palm to conjure up three small cups. Timothy stared, fascinated. He had never seen a wizard do that much magic without a wand or some other magical aid before. When he was passed his cup of steaming tea, Timothy fixed his eyes on the young man's hands.
"You both look downright awful," the young man said soothingly. "What are you too doing running through a Muggle town doing magic alone?"
"We were chased there," Timothy explained as he sipped the hot liquid in his cup. "Some knights thought we stole something. Before we could tell them we weren't, one of them knocked me out."
"Emm, yes… that's a nasty bruise on your head." The young man nodded. "Continue."
"Well, when I came to, both of us were on a cart heading for somewhere. So, we used our wands and used some spells to distract them so that we could get away,"
"Wands?!" The young man cried suddenly in surprise. "Goodness! Are yeh parents rich? Why, I wouldn't be able to afford one if I save my entire life! Makes it so much easier, yes? If only I had one, then ol' Master Crouch could lay off me with the lessons, he would."
"You don't have one?" Timothy asked uselessly. "No wonder you use your hands to do magic for everything. I could never do that, not even my parents, I think."
"Of course! You'd have to be the king himself to afford one. I've talked with the shopkeeper down in one of the last magic communities, Hogsmeade, I think it's called. Anyway, the keeper had to raise prices ages ago, when the taxes got too high. Ollivander, I think his name was."
Timothy swallowed his tea hard. At least Hogsmeade existed, and Mr. Ollivander's ancestor as well. No doubt he was just as creepy as the modern day one.
"So, you two ran into the village and decided to run amuck with your fancy wands, eh? No doubt your master'll be upset with you. Where is he, anyhow? And what about your partner there, where's her mistress?"
"Uhh…" Timothy looked over at Luna, who had put aside her cup and was now fast asleep against his shoulder. "We don't have a master or mistress, sir. We're not really from around here at all."
"Then who…?" the young man started, but shook his head. "Ah, well, you both have been through too much tonight. You just kip on my bed over there and I'll take the loft outside. We can sort things out in the morning."
"Thank you, mister… mister, er…" Timothy yawned.
"Oh, how stupid of me! The name's Patrick…. Patrick Potter."
Timothy felt his heart stop, eyes going wide as he looked at his ancestor.
"Pot… Pott… Pot-t-t-er?" he studdered.
"Yeah, and who might you be, young'n?" Patrick laughed.
"Timothy P-… I…" he thought quickly, would it be wise for him to know that he was his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson, more or less? "Springs. Timothy Springs."
"Nice to meet you, Timothy Springs. I take it that's your sister?" he pointed to the sleeping form of Luna.
"No," Timothy shook his head sleepily, all surprise gone as exhaustion took him again. "No… that's… that's Luna Dine."
Whatever Patrick said afterwards, Timothy didn't hear. His eyes slid shut against his will and the darkness of sleep overtook him. He slumped against Luna as Patrick quickly took their cups. The crackling of the fire and the soft breathing of the two kids were the only sounds heard in the barn, as Patrick quietly conjured the cups away and stood up in a stretch. He looked down on them for a moment, staring particularly at Timothy. After hesitating and muttering disgruntled comments about his master, Patrick bent down and gingerly picked Timothy up in his surprising strong arms and put him in his bed. He went back to get Luna and set her beside him. Then, as he lightly brushed aside Timothy's bangs to look at the bruise left by the knight's blow, he pointed his other hand to his shelf. A bottle of healing herbs floated to him, and with a cloth, Patrick dabbed some of the potion on Timothy's forehead.
"There now," he whispered, sending the potion bottle back and tossing the cloth away. "Sleep well."
With a wide motion of his hand, the fire went out, bringing darkness around them. Patrick got up and left, checking to see that things were well before shutting the door behind him.
"'Night… dad." Timothy turned over.
The sounds of falling logs and chirping of birds stirred Timothy from his sleep. He turned on his other side, groping for his pillow. His father must be putting fresh wood in the fireplace, he thought. He had had the strangest dream… an evil woman at Hogwarts had banished both him and Luna Dine back in time, only to meet his ancestor and be chased by knights. However, as the sounds did not cease, waking him further, Timothy noticed that his bed sheets were very uncomfortable and opened his eyes.
His heart skipped a beat as he sat bolt upright. He was in a straw-covered bed, next to Luna, who was still asleep. It hadn't been a dream. They were in his ancestor's barn.
Timothy carefully climbed off the bed and slowly walked to the flimsy wooden door to the outside. He opened it a bit and saw Patrick stacking wood against the barn wall. The sawdust and hay was very thick, and Timothy let out a controlled sneeze.
"Ah, you're awake!" Patrick turned to see him, rubbing off sawdust on his dark green tunic. "Thought you never would. You both been asleep for nearly two days!"
"Two days?" Timothy asked incredulously. He did feel a lot better now that he was rested. Even his head didn't hurt anymore from where the knight had knocked him out.
"Did you good, I see." Patrick came closer to look him over. Timothy felt strange being scrutinized by his ancestor. "You're head fell better?"
"Like new," Timothy smiled. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Patrick smiled back, suddenly looking behind him. "'Morning, m'lady."
Luna had walked out following Timothy, squinting in the bright morning sun.
"What time is it?" she asked groggily.
"I'd say it'd be about close to noon, I guess." Patrick glanced up at the sky a moment. "You two hungry?"
"Yes." They both said in union. Timothy hadn't realized how hungry he was, the last time he had eaten anything was dinner with this family. That had been nearly three days prior, but it felt like forever.
Patrick smiled and walked around them to go back inside. They followed eagerly, watching as Patrick conjured another fire and summoned a frying pan from a shelf on the wall. Then, seemingly out of his pocket, he pulled out some bacon slices and tossed it on the pan to sizzle. Next, out of a pocket in front of his tunic, he took out three eggs.
"How you like your eggs?" he asked as he cracked them open on the edge of the pan and poured the contents in with the cooking bacon. The barn quickly filled with the aroma of breakfast, making Timothy's mouth water.
"Scrambled." Luna replied.
"Same here." Timothy added.
"Now," Patrick began as he conjured some plates with a flick of his wrist and began to serve them. "You told me the other night that you're not from around here, correct?"
"Yes." Timothy answered, taking his plate and pausing as he waited for a fork.
"Something wrong?" Patrick asked, seeing Timothy sitting there expectantly.
"I need a fork." Timothy answered him obviously.
"Fork? Goodness, boy! You really must be a prince or something! Sorry, chap, but that's what fingers are for." Patrick laughed, handing Luna her plate.
Luna nudged Timothy in the shoulder and began to down her food hungrily. Timothy silently cursed himself for not paying more attention in History of Magic. Naturally they wouldn't have modern luxuries like forks. Well, forks weren't a new thing, but like Patrick said, only the rich had them. Without further ado, he began to eat as Patrick picked at his own food.
"Well then, anyway, as I was saying… so, you have no where to go?"
Timothy and Luna shook their heads.
"Hmm…" Patrick murmured to himself seriously, his lighthearted expression hardening. "I'm not entirely sure what to do."
"We're sorry to be a nuisance," Timothy swallowed. "All we need is… well, to find a way back home."
"You said home was far away, how far is it?" Patrick asked.
Timothy and Luna looked at each other, chewing more slowly. Timothy had already covered for them by using his mother's maiden name, or, in sudden realization, his uncle's name. If they were to tell Patrick that they were from the future and the reasons they were sent back, it might blow their cover.
"Your clothes," Patrick said without answer. "I've never seen cloaks like that before."
They both looked down at their Hogwarts uniforms and colored slightly.
"Er… well, they're school uniforms." Timothy replied carefully.
"School uniforms? You sure you're not part of a royal family? I've never heard of anyone else going to school." Patrick looked at them skeptically.
"Where else would you learn magic?" Luna said before Timothy could stop her.
Patrick laughed.
"Where else would you…! My! From your master and lord, that's where! You mean to tell me that you both haven't been apprenticed to a wizard and witch yet?"
"Apprenticed?" they both wondered out loud.
"Goodness me, have you got me at a weird end." Patrick ran his hands through his hair much like Timothy did. "As much as I wouldn't mind having an apprentice, I can't! I'm one myself! I'm not a fully learned wizard just yet, if Master Crouch doesn't let me go. And he can't have more than one apprentice, he said so himself a while back. He's too old now. As for you, Luna, well… I'm not sure about the local witch."
Timothy swallowed the rest of his breakfast quickly.
"We're not asking to be apprenticed, just sent home," he struggled mentally to determine if telling him the next thing was a mistake. "Patrick? Do you know enough magic to send people… people through time?"
Patrick blinked at him.
"Through time? Well… no, sorry. Why?"
Both Timothy and Luna sagged in disappointment. Timothy began to loose hope, thinking he was forever trapped in the middle ages and had failed his destiny. Murtov and Malfoy's plan had succeeded after all.
"Why?" Patrick asked again. "You… you don't mean to tell me…?"
"We need a lift back to the year 2020." Luna muttered dispiritedly.
Patrick stared at them both for what seemed like several awkward minutes.
"You're… you're from the future?" Patrick asked hoarsely.
"An evil witch in our time used a spell and sent us back here. We know that there's someone in this time that knows we're here and wants to kill us." Timothy explained.
"Why would someone do something so horrible to you both?"
Timothy sighed, what use was there now to withhold the entire truth?
"She was working for an evil wizard that wants to get rid of all the impurities and rule the world. That wizard wants my parents dead, for they are a very powerful witch and wizard together. However, I am the only one that can destroy him… it's my destiny. I was supposed to find my family crest, which would help me kill him, I guess. But I didn't find it… I… I… didn't want to. I was too afraid. That was my mistake… his spy came to my school and managed to send me back in time to put me away. Luna was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, although the wizard wanted her dead too. He already killed her parents."
Patrick took a deep breath and considered them both for a long moment.
"What is your name, really?" he asked Timothy directly.
"Timothy," he whispered, hanging his head to hide his tears, feeling very ashamed. "Potter."
To his surprise, Patrick didn't gasp or yell or react how he had expected. When Timothy looked up at him, he was looking back at Timothy with a strange expression… he couldn't describe it.
"Well now… well now," he mused slowly.
"We're stuck here, aren't we?" Luna sniffed. "Stuck in the Middle Ages with no place to go!"
"Let's not fret just yet, 'lil miss. We'll think of something." Patrick got up and flexed his arms, acting as if nothing the stranger ever happened to him before. "I better meet up with my master before he becomes too enraged by my two day absence. I didn't want to leave you two alone. Maybe he'll have a better idea as to what to do… who knows? Maybe he can send you back."
"Really?" Timothy got up as well, brushing the straw from his uniform. "Can he?"
"There's a lot the 'ol grouch has yet to teach me." Patrick winked at him.
Twenty minutes later, after helping Patrick bring in wood for the night's fire and other odds and ends, Timothy and Luna followed Patrick through a surrounding wood.
"What's that galloping sound?" Luna whispered apprehensively, walking close to Timothy.
"Unicorns." Patrick answered plainly.
They walked for what seemed like two hours, not saying a word, until Patrick suddenly asked:
"You go to Hogwarts, right?"
"Yes," Timothy replied. "Is it near by?"
"Emm, more or less."
"I thought every magical child was admitted there." Luna said.
"Yes, they are." Patrick said grimly.
"Why didn't you go?" Timothy asked.
He stopped and looked back at them, his face set.
"These are not peaceful times… haven't been since before I was born."
"I'm beginning to think there isn't such a thing as peaceful times." Timothy muttered as they began moving again.
"But, still… the school goes on, right? You still would've been able to go." Luna persisted the subject.
"Mother wouldn't let me." Patrick said simply.
"Your mother wouldn't let you? Why not?"
Patrick shrugged and quickened his pace.
"Why did she-?"
"There he is!" Patrick yelled suddenly before Luna could continue. "Now, just leave the talking to me. Mind your manners."
Both Timothy and Luna put on frowns of protest at such a request as Patrick broke into a run and came up on the top of a cliff. Standing precariously near the edge stood an averaged height but very muscular looking man. Patrick nearly slowed to a crawl as he got closer to him, stretching as tall as he could and nearly matching the man, yet he was too skinny to be a match.
"Where you been, boy?" the man said in a low growl.
Timothy held out his hand to stop Luna from getting any closer. They stood and watched from the tree line as Patrick took a loud gulp.
"I'm very sorry, Master, but I have an excuse." He seemed to try to sound unafraid.
His master turned at that point, revealing a tired, yet strong face that showed old age. Wind whipped at the fine long brown hair that was streaked generously with white. His eyes were dark and piercing, and Patrick seemed to wither to his knees at his stare.
"Oh? While I've been straining to keep his minions back, you've been gallivanting around the countryside for two days with an excuse? Do tell me, boy, how it slipped your mind to summon an owl to inform me, instead of waiting until the third day to make an appearance?"
"No, Master, I wasn't gallivanting… I came across these young'uns in the Muggle village down the path," Patrick motioned for Timothy and Luna to approach. "They were nearly killed before I intervened. I got them out and brought them back to my home, but the two of them were in a bad sort and needed care. These past two days they've been resting in my barn."
Timothy nearly stumbled when Patrick's master turned his eyes sharply upon him and Luna. For what seemed like hours, he seemed to study them.
"You there," he pointed a strong finger at Timothy, almost making him jump. "What's your name"
Timothy immediately looked to Patrick, who stepped forward to stand in front of him and Luna.
"I believe the better question to ask, Master, is when they are from."
"Did I hear you correctly as to say, when?" he crossed his arms and looked at Patrick dubiously. "Are you telling me that these children are from the future?"
The three of them nodded slowly. Patrick's master stared for several moments before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Of all things to happen now! I don't have time for this sort of thing, and Potter, you've already set me back with your absence. No, no… if what I suspect is true, I cannot help you."
Luna let out a stifled cry and Timothy's jaw dropped. Patrick looked at them both worriedly and stepped up to his master, who had turned back to the cliff's edge.
"But Master! They're trapped here, nearly a thousand years in the past! Surely you can send them back, you're the most powerful wizard in these lands."
"No, boy, I'm not the most powerful. You know that. As for these children, I'm sorry, but not only do I not have the time, I don't have the knowledge. I've never done a time spell. Have only heard of such a thing once…" he said without looking at Patrick.
"But-!"
"Don't talk back to me, boy, or you'll regret it! Now send them off and be quick! We still have to set up the perimeters around the vicinity and only you have the legs to handle such a chore."
Timothy's meager hope drained from him like a leaky bucket. Luna was already in tears as Patrick looked back at them apologetically. He was starting down toward them to lead them back through the woods when he stopped suddenly. Patrick looked at Timothy, then quickly turned around and strode to face the back of his master's form.
"With all due respect, Master, I am now responsible for these two."
"Don't be ridiculous," his master suddenly chuckled, his back still turned. "You're too young to take on an apprentice, especially since you're still one yourself. The girl needs a witch, anyway. The only one I know in the area already has an apprentice, and she's older than me… no way will she take a young one like that."
"I am responsible for returning them to their proper time. For you see, this boy here just so happens to be several greats of a grandson of mine. My predecessor." Patrick said calmly.
This made his master turn and look at them all with masked curiosity. He took a long hard look at Timothy, and then at Patrick. Several awkward moments later, Patrick still standing up to his master boldly, he nodded his head.
"So, you're name would be?" he cocked his head at Timothy.
"Timothy. Timothy Potter." He replied in a weak voice.
"Emm… and you, little lady?"
"Luna Dine, sir." Luna's voice quivered.
He looked at Patrick with a vague expression, taking in a deep breath.
"There's only one person I know that may know the spell that could send them back. I'll help you, but our priority is Welles, understood?"
"Yes, Master." Patrick smiled at them all.
Timothy and Luna beamed with newfound hope.
Patrick's master introduced himself as William Crouch, one of the few wizards left still "battling the revolution", as he put it. Timothy realized that he and Luna had been sent back to when Christianity was converting the people from "the Old Ways". Magic was now seen as works of evil, and non-magical people were donned the name of "Muggles" as the practice lost believers. This had been going on for over a hundred years, and now nearly all the wizards and witches had spread out in hiding… magic becoming concealed. One wizard, however, refused to hide and became enraged by the turn of the times. His name was Lord Welles, a very powerful wizard of the darkest arts. He wanted to rid the land of the Muggle folk and return the reign of magic, with him as king. Hardly anyone stood in his way, and many villages had plundered in ruin at his power. Crouch, despite the ridicule from Muggles, only wanted peace- accepting the change of beliefs and willing to form a truce. It was him that battled Welles, and him that Welles feared. However, he was becoming old, and Patrick was accepted as his apprentice to replace him.
"That's why my mum brought me to him… he asked for me by name. He knew my grandfather, who was a very powerful wizard himself. Saved the kingdom, he did. My father tried to keep peace in his place, but was killed. Now it's up to me… he may not act like it, but Master Crouch cares very much. He's a good man, and a good teacher." Patrick explained as they followed Crouch to an unknown destination.
"How did your grandfather save the kingdom?" Timothy asked, fascinated.
"He was a close friend of Godric Gryffindor, one of the Hogwarts school founders. My father told me, before he was killed, that Gryffindor gave him a gift- a weapon, actually, that would destroy Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders who had gone evil."
Timothy nearly stopped dead in his tracks, staring open mouthed at Patrick as Luna collided into his back.
"Hey!" she yelped.
"What happened?"
"Well… not sure, actually. From what I remember, my father said that he had managed to kill him. Only, Slytherin was so powerful, that at the last minute he trapped his spirit in some form… my grandfather only managed to lock him away in the castle somewhere, far from anyone's reach. No one knows for sure, Godric Gryffindor died a short while after with the secret taken with him. Whatever and where ever it is, it's known as the Chamber of Secrets. My grandfather swore never to tell a soul. What's wrong, Timothy? You look pale."
"What… what was the weapon he used?" Timothy asked breathlessly.
"Er… a crest. A crest of our surname."
Timothy nearly fainted. Patrick took hold of his shoulders before he could fall, stopping in their path and making Crouch pause to look back at them.
"Better carry you on my back. Must not be used to all this nature walking, eh?" he said lightheartedly, but glanced at Crouch nervously since they were hindering their progress. Before Timothy could say anything, Patrick took hold of his upper arms and swung him onto his strong back. Luna couldn't help but let out a soft giggle as Timothy flushed and Patrick broke into a trot to make up for the lost distance between them and Crouch.
"The Potter family crest." Timothy muttered, eyes half shut as he bounced along on Patrick's back.
"Yes," Patrick panted. "The true symbol of our name and a powerful weapon against evil. If only I had it…"
Timothy's eyes flew open.
"You don't have it?! Do you know where it is?!"
"'Fraid not. My grandfather passed it down to my father, and at his instruction, he hid it somewhere. I was too young at the time. My father never told me where he put it before he was killed. My mother refused to tell me about it. So, we may never know."
Timothy groaned, resting his chin on Patrick's shoulder as they pressed on. Before he could ask anything more, Crouch stopped and held up his hand.
"Silence! Patrick, put him down and come here. You children stay where you are."
Patrick gently but quickly lowered Timothy to the ground, winked, and jogged up to where Crouch had his back turned, looking out in front of them where Timothy could make out a large field. They began to mutter to each other, and he strained to hear.
"…many?"
"Not much… sure… torturing Muggles…"
"What… do, Master?"
Crouch turned back to glance at Timothy and Luna, both of them listening intently. Patrick looked slightly worried as he watched his master.
"What's wrong?" Timothy called to him, curiosity winning him over.
"Stay where you are until we return. Under no circumstances are you to come rushing out of these woods without us. Put up a warding charm just in case."
Before Timothy and Luna could protest, not entirely sure they could conjure such a charm, Crouch was already out of sight. Patrick hesitated until Crouch called back to him.
"Wait! You can't just leave us!" Luna cried shrilly, running up to the spot where both adults were standing. But Patrick and Crouch were already gone, the light from the edge of the woods just visible on the horizon.
"Luna, they said for us to stay here!" Timothy jogged after her.
"Well we can't stay here, what if those knights show up or something? What'll we do?" she fretted.
"Crouch said to conjure a warding charm." Timothy said, digging in his robes for his wand.
"And do we know how to conjure a warding charm?" Luna crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly.
Timothy thought a moment and blinked.
"Well… I… I… er, well my father did it once in front of me a long time ago. But… no, I don't know how. Do you?"
"If I did would I have asked you?" Luna rolled her eyes.
"Well you never know! You could have known and just asked me on spite!" Timothy snapped at her attitude.
"Shows just how much you know then, huh!"
"Why are you so impudent all of a sudden? You used to be so meek." Timothy turned away from her, his own arms crossed.
"To think that I ever thought you were a good guy! I saved your life once, and you still treat me like an annoying bug!" Luna stomped her foot.
Timothy turned to her, eyes flashing.
"What's with you these days?! Yeah, your parents were killed and your life has taken a dive- but it's like you're a different person all of a sudden! I don't know you at all."
"You never knew me to begin with," Luna hissed. "I bet you only came after me for the fame of saving someone- when it was me that saved you… but did I get recognition? No! What I got was a death sentence and a horrible life to live out."
Timothy swelled with anger. Never did he think of such a thing when he went after Luna that last school year. She did look like a different person, trying to stand defiantly up to Timothy, when she was so much smaller. That event completely changed her… and he had no idea how hurt she was inside. Yet, she was acting so unnecessarily at the moment that feeling sorry for her was a remote possibility.
"I went after you because we knew you were in trouble. And I thanked you for ending up helping me. Why are you acting so conflictive?!"
Luna opened her mouth to yell, but the yell they heard did not come from her. The bushes around the trees next to them suddenly moved violently!
"YAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGG!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" They both screamed, Luna backing up into Timothy's arms.
"GET THEM!"
Two knights crashed onto the path, sending Timothy and Luna bolting in the other direction in fear. Too startled and afraid to think, all Timothy managed to do was look back. The knights were trying to catch up to them in their full armor, swords raised over their heads in a fighting position. There seemed to be a strange glow around them, as if powering up energy. Timothy screamed again, grabbing Luna by the waist and lunged to the ground just as a blinding light blew up the air they were once in with a deafening crack.
Luna began to shake violently in fear, her hands clutching Timothy's robes in a vise-like grip. He began to scuttle to his feet and drag her off the path through the woods. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it behind him as the knights lumbered into view. Searching his mind for a spell, he spoke the first one that came to his head just in time before the knights attacked again.
"Alohamora!"
He cursed as he realized that he had just said the opening charm. Thinking them doomed, Timothy squinted his eyes as he watched the knights reel back under the charm. Nothing happened at first, making both knights laugh… but then their armor completely fell off.
"What happened?" Luna panted as Timothy slowed down, beginning to giggle.
The knights fell over as their armor crashed to the ground. Their magical swords dropped to the side as they struggled in the heavy metal. All they were wearing was protective chain mail and they began to curse loudly.
"Let's go before they get themselves together again." Timothy grabbed Luna's hand and they ran to the edge of the forest, where they stopped in shock.
A vast meadow lay before them filled with tall grass. It seemed like a whole army of the very same knights with the magical swords was moving quickly in the green. Shouts and small explosions from the meadow's edge on the far side drew Timothy's eyes. He let out a gasp. Crouch and Patrick were engaged in a furious confrontation with the closer knights. They weren't using wands, but simply shouted incantations and made motions with their hands. It seemed like they were holding the knights at bay, but not for long. There were simply too many of them at too many angles.
"Oh no, Timothy, now what?" Luna asked breathlessly.
The tree they were standing next to suddenly exploded. A knight in the meadow spotted them!
"Run!"
They couldn't turn back where they came from, or they'd meet up with the other two knights again. Running into the field would not be a good idea, either; they'd be running straight into a whole army of them. So they ran at the borderline toward where Crouch and Patrick were kept at bay.
The knights weren't too quick to spot them, but as they drew closer, the knights began to take notice. They aimed their glowing swords toward them, ready to fire. Timothy looked over his shoulder just in time to see Luna get in the knight's aim. She didn't see him.
"Luna, watch out!"
Timothy pushed her out of the way and held out his wand out of instinct.
"NO!" he commanded. The knight swung his sword and with another loud crack, the magic surged out and flew straight at Timothy. However, as Timothy yelled, his own wand began to glow with power and cracked in the air itself. The two magics hit, and the impact threw Timothy a near five feet backward into a tree trunk. Instantly, the air was knocked clear from his lungs. He crumbled to heap, gasping and dizzy. Through his steadily fuzzy vision, Luna could be seen lying on her stomach with her hands covering her head in the dirt. She slowly looked up and searched around her, screeching as she spotted Timothy.
"TIMOTHY!"
She scrambled to her feet but stumbled and fell again. Timothy began to lift his hands to motion for her to keep still, just as he could begin making out a tall figure looming behind her. He squinted, gasping as the air reluctantly began to slip back inside him, and saw that it was a knight. His sword was high above him, glowing in power, but he was fixated on Timothy… he hadn't seen Luna… yet.
"There you are! Hah hah! I'll be rewarded grandly for sure!" the knight yelled triumphantly, lowering his sword, preparing to fire.
Just as the light began to shoot out of the sword, Timothy closing his eyes to take his final blow, there was an angry yell:
"NO!"
Light cracked just as a dark haired figure leapt into it's path, taking the hit in the shoulder, and landed clear on Timothy. It was Patrick! His jet-black hair fell over Timothy's face as he let out a grunt of pain, turning on his side to face the knight.
"Brandmortica!" he shouted, raising his hand palm flat outward in a powerful motion. Instantly, the knight screamed and whatever happened to him… Timothy couldn't tell. Patrick's weight was crushing his already air-deprived lungs. His eyes clouded over as he felt his ancestor struggling to get off… hearing Luna's voice trembling with fear and worry… the deep throated sound of Crouch speaking… and then the memory of the powerful magic he had felt surging through his entire body as he countered the knight's first attack. He hadn't used a spell, all he did was raise his wand. What happened?
"Timothy? Timothy, are you alright?"
"How'd he do that? How did he block that knight's magic like that?"
"He's a wizard, no? He used magic back."
"But… I didn't hear a spell."
"He looks bad, Master Crouch…"
"Aye, better get on to Winter's. Your shoulder, too."
"I'll be alright."
"Timothy, it'll be OK. Hang on."
The last thing he knew, he was being lifted and carried, but not before he heard a small voice in his ear whisper:
"Thank you, Timothy. And, I'm sorry."
A/N: Well! What did you think now? No better time now to review, if I may say so myself, eh? Now, I know already one question you may ask: how did I come to the year 2020? Well, here are the facts-
*Harry and Renee gradutated Hogwarts in 1997 (Hatred's Prisoner)
*Timothy was born 11 years later in June 2008 (Break In the Darkness)
*At his current age of 12, that brings the year to 2020
That seem peachy? Alrighty! Ok, now, well the story really is taking flight now. Will Timothy be OK? Can he find the crest after all? Who the heck are those freaky knights? What happens next? Chapter 10 will tell!
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Updated often, new books on the recommendation page!
I actually did alright on my report card! C, B, A, A, A, B!! Evil math for giving me the C... arrrgggg... And it didn't help to find out that my friend decided to take a quick trip over to LONDON over spring break and she didn't take me!! Ahck! Oh well... I'll just head over to downtown Orlando and sit at the bus station pretending it's Kings Cross. Oh wait, there's a train station in Sanford... ooo! Well, until I work out my strange issues, you can expect chapter 10 by March 29th. Don't forget to review! Buhbye now!
~OrcaPotter