Tempus Fugit
By Kalantha and Artemisia Bristol
Kalantha_@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: All reverence forthcoming belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Strange, mysterious similarities to a certain novella by H.G Wells are strictly the product of your imagination.
Rating: PG
Classification: A little bit of everything. Action! Adventure! Mystery! Romance (of the PG type)!
Author's Notes: This has been a while in the makings, so we would appreciate all feedback (constructive criticism encouraged!). Although Kalantha thinks that we should get down on our knees and beg, I'm wearing black pants and don't want them dirty.
A special thanks to Kyla, a exceptionally talented grammarian.
Hopefully chapter two will be up in two weeks. Repeat, hopefully.
Updated for grammatical errors on April 12th, 2002
Chapter One
The Pocket Watch
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This is a Weasley family best, Ron thought with a tinge of smugness as he followed McGonagall's bobbing hat. Haven't even stepped off the Hogwart's Express and I'm already in trouble. He shut his eyes and savoured the memory of Fred and George's incredulous expressions as they had both watched McGonagall barge into their compartment, snatched him off the train, and ordered him to come to the Headmaster's office. A new idea brought a smile to his face. I wonder if I'll make it into Hogwarts, a History...
"Ron!" The pleasant idea of a full-coloured appendix was interrupted by a sharp jab in the ribs. He looked down at Hermione, who was pale as parchment. She was nervously hissing at him, "Stop stepping on my toes."
Reluctantly, Ron removed his foot. Hermione scrambled to make up the lost ground between them and McGonagall. I suppose they'll have to mention Hermione, he thought reluctantly. Maybe they could have a little footnote; 'Accompanying Ron Weasley, the greatest prankster since Bartholomew Briggans, was Hermione Granger, a prefect with bushy hair.'
"Wait here," ordered McGonagall. Ron jerked his head up just in time to miss running into Hermione's backside. "Dumbledore will be with you in a moment."
She smiled briefly, but with pride, at Hermione before speaking. "Congratulations on achieving prefect status, Miss ranger. I have no doubt that you will do the school proud." Hermione lowered her eyes humbly and Ron stifled a groan as he watched McGonagall slowly disappearing down the hall.
Please, Ron grumbled to himself, as if anyone else was even remotely considered. He glanced down at her as she polished her already glittering prefect badge. Her letters during the vacation had spoke nothing but her plans as perfect. Well, she deserves it, he though grudgingly.
A faint cacophony reached his ears as the students arrived. He could pick out the nervous and awed voices of the first years in the crowd as they passed by the hall to the Sorting Ceremony. He thought he caught a glimpse of Harry, who had not been mysteriously whisked away to the Headmaster's office. At least one of us will get to see the Sorting Ceremony this year.
"Ron?" Hermione's voice brought him away from the parade. "Have you gotten into any trouble lately that I should be aware of?"
"What," Ron gritted his teeth, "are you talking about?"
"Well, since I'm a prefect now, you can't just be dashing off and breaking ever rule you please. I mean, honestly-"
"You sound like Percy," Ron said darkly.
Hermione smiled tentatively. "Really?"
"I meant that as an insult!" he spat out. Sourly, he turned his back to her. To his surprise, he found himself face to face with a rather revolting stone statue of a gargoyle. What an ugly git, Ron thought, observing the foul expression etched for eternity on the stone. He was dimly aware of Hermione making impatient sounds behind him, as he peered closed into the gargoyle's face. He looks almost as if he could stand up and start talking.
And then, it did.
The gargoyle sprang to life with the sound of scratching stone, moved to the side and revealed to an astonished Ron an obscure entrance way. At the threshold stood Professor Dumbledore.
"Oh," yelped Hermoine. "Professor, sorry..."
"Quite all right." Dumbledore smiled as his luminous eyes bored a hole in Ron's skull. "Please join me up in my office." He motioned up, to reveal a spiraling staircase, that seemed to move upwards on it's own.
"Wow..." Ron remarked. What did Dad call them? Oh yeah, 'Es-kee-later'. He eyed it critically. Is that thing safe? Just to be sure, he let Hermione and Dumbledore try it first.
As soon as they entered the office, a strange sense of warmth came over Ron. Everything else forgotten, he wandered around the office, oblivious to Dumbledore's secret smile. In the fireplace, a fire was merrily cracking away as the portraits above hung is peaceful slumber. Except the portrait of Headmaster Bertha Hugginstatch, who was screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Albus Dumbledore, you let me down from here this instant! I command you! I'll have the Ministry on you! Kiss of Death!" the painted lady roared as she tore at the canvas.
Dumbledore wandered over to the painting and muttered something that only Ron heard. "If you are not careful, I will arrange to have Mr. Filch to give you a varnish. Are we clear?" Bertha Hugginstatch grew very calm and then stormed out of the painting.
Smiling to himself, Dumbledore took a seat behind a large oak desk. "May I offer you both a seat?" Two very comfy looking chairs faced his large desk and Ron and Hermione both sat down.
"I suppose that you are probably wondering why you are here," Dumbledore remarked with an expression of hidden mirth. "I can assure you, neither of you are in any sort of trouble." Immediately, Hermione relaxed.
"It is because I have a assignment for the both of you." He looked at them both as the twinkle in his eyes was replaced with a solemn air. "One that I believe no one else could complete. To explain myself in full, I must begin by telling you of some events that took place many years ago."
Another lecture, Ron groaned.
"Twenty years ago, Hogwarts had many different Professors than it does today. Seven, in fact. The most interesting part though, is that by the end of 1976, all seven had left their jobs, for various reasons. Recently, I have made some discoveries which are quite unsettling. I have found out that during the years directly preceding the departure of the seven Professors, one of them was experimenting with some very powerful charms and curses. Which of the professors, I do not know."
Shaking his head, Dumbledore stood and strode towards something tall and covered in a heavy, dark blanket. "That is where you come in."
"I don't understand Professor," Hermione spoke up, "If you need us to find out who this professor was, why don't you just interview them all?"
The Headmaster gave a small smile, looking as though he was remembering something which he knew neither of them would understand. "Those years were in the middle of Lord Voldemort's rise of power."
Cringing, Ron shook off the creepy feeling that always accompanied someone saying... that name.
Dumbledore continued on, "Most of the Professors have disappeared, or have died since those days. I was only able to locate two, both of which were unlikely candidates.
"I only know of the evidence that the magic for these spells exists. I do not know were the work itself is.
The curses and charms they were working on were extremely advanced, and could it could prove disastrous if such information were to get into the wrong hands."
"What were the charms and curses?" Ron asked out of curiosity.
Dumbledore bowed his head. The flickering shadow of the fire fell across his wrinkled face. "Some were new and advanced forms of the Unforgivables, making them more powerful. Others spells were completely new, but just as terrible. I believe that the very process used to discover these more potent varieties of Unforgivables may hold the key to developing a counter curse for them as well. That could save many lives." Dumbledore seemed to be very far away as he explained..
Why is Dumbledore telling us this? To his right, Ron could see that Hermione was asking herself the same question.
As if to answer it, Dumbledore took the dark cover off the tall object that he had been standing beside. In the light, it proved to be a normal, circular bird cage. But inside, there was no bird, just something tiny that was flickering in every direction at once. Every once in a while, it would catch the light, like metal, but only for a moment, as it never stopped its erratic movement. It's like Pig, Ron grinned to himself.
"What..." Hermione's jaw fell as she darted a glance at Ron, who shrugged.
Dumbledore was grinning madly as he watched the crazy flying for a few moments. With an almost paternal manner, he patted the cage. "This is a Tempus Fugit."
And that would be... Ron automatically turned to Hermione who was gasping for air as if someone had kicked her in the stomach.
"Although extremely rare, I was able to acquire one, many years ago. I knew that he would come in useful one of these days. Though, in the mean time, he's made a charming pet." Suddenly all business, he turned. "Now, you must use the Tempus Fugit to discover which Professor was performing these experiments, and make sure that that information is put in a safe place."
"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said in a panicky tone, "Tempus Fugits they're well, illegal. They have a level six M.O.M classification. They were, I mean are, so dangerous that the Ministry of Magic declared that anyone having a Tempus Fugit in their possession would be sent Azkaban without a trial." Hermione's eyes darted around the room as if she expected to see Charm Squads leaping out of the woodworking.
"Yes, well." Dumbledore looked almost, well, embarrassed. "I have never used it until now. They are only dangerous if the owner tampers with time. Not observes."
Hold on a minute... Ron shook his head as confusion started to take hold. "You're saying that you want us to travels back in time."
"Of course, Ron," Hermione snapped. "Tempus Fugit, Ron. That's Latin for Time Flies. That's what Tempus Fugits do, they fly people back and forth in time. That was they did until they were deemed to dangerous for wizarding use and destroyed."
Time travel? he wondered. Well, It's not impossible, he reasoned. But me and Hermione, travelling back in time?
"Precisely," Dumbledore interrupted as he brought the bird cage over to settle on his desk. "It's imperative that the information this professor procured is hidden, so as not to be found by anyone with evil intentions. I'm also quite curious as to which professor it was."
Dumbledore continued explaining. "The most important thing to remember, while you are both in the past, is to reveal nothing about the future. The effects could be disastrous. You cannot reveal future events to anyone you are to meet in the year of 1975."
Hermione stuck her hand up nervously, as if a dire questions had just popped into her mind. "Why us, Professor?" she asked.
Good question, Ron agreed. Why would he send me and Hermione, of all people, on what seems like such an important task? Maybe Hermione because she's done it before. This is more a Harry thing. Ron said so to Dumbledore.
To this, Dumbledore gave a large smile. "It is in 1975, that a certain James Potter was attending Hogwarts. Fifth year, in fact. People might become suspicious is they see Harry wandering around the school."
Harry's father? That meant that the other Marauders were in school too. Ron beamed maliciously. Fred and George are going to be so jealous when they learn that I've met Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail.
"I would go back myself," Dumbledore said with a tinge of longing. "But I am afraid that I would immediately be recognized. However, neither of you would even have been born yet."
This might just work, Ron rationed. Maybe if we thought about it for a week or two...
"You will depart immediately." he said. Hermione's eyes became wide and Ron felt his stomach drop as well.
Now? He felt panic rise in his stomach. "But..." Ron tried to protest.
Dumbledore stood and motioned towards the corner of the room, where he noticed his and Hermione's trunks, packed and ready to go. "Just pick up your luggage, and you'll be off."
Speechless, Ron went to get his belongings. Behind him, he heard Dumbledore speaking to Hermione. "Here is the letter I want you to give to me, in the year 1975. Inside, it says that you are both exchange students from Mr. Bauman's Private Academy of Magic, located in London. I told myself to give you a bit of lenience, so you two can do the necessary sleuthing to figure out the guilty teacher."
Ron took his trunk by the handle, and turned, to listen to rest of what Dumbledore was saying.
"Even I will know little about your true reason for being in the past. However, I'll ask no questions, as I trust my own writing."
The headmaster turned to the tall cage, and with his long and wrinkled fingers, he opened the door. Before Ron could blink, the tiny pocket watch had flown out the cage and darted aimlessly around the room. Then, in a flash, it seemed to notice Ron. It headed for him at full speed, only a gold blur visible. With a whoosh, the watch had darted into Ron's pocket, it's thin gold chain trailing out.
Dumbledore smiled. "It seemed to have taken a liking to you." Ron smiled, pleased that it had flown to him, not Hermione. Looking over at her, she appeared quite disappointed.
"May I see the Tempus Fugit?" Dumbledore asked Ron. He reached into his pocket, and grabbed the winged watch. Dumbledore took the Tempus Fugit, and seemed to be winding it up, backwards. As he did this, the Tempus Fugit fluttered its wings wildly, and quivered with seeming excitement.
"It's set for September 1st, 1975. You will arrive shortly before the Hogwarts Express does. When you do, give me the letter, and from there, you will be told what to do." Hermione nodded. The headmaster handed the Tempus Fugit back to Ron.
Looking at Ron, he said, "Just push this knob in when you are ready to travel back in time. It's already set."
Hermione was now holding her trunk as well, and in the same hand she clutched a tattered and yellow letter. With her empty hand, she nervously reached out for the gold chain, and wrapped it around her hands a few times for good grip. She looked at Ron, face pale but full of determination.
"Ready?" She asked. Ron nodded. Just as he went to push in the tiny gold knob, Dumbledore spoke up.
"One last thing! Ron, you cannot be known as a Weasley. For the next, or should I say previous, months, you will be known as Ron Holtby." Ron gave Dumbledore a puzzled look, but before he could say anything, he had pressed it in.
Immediately, the Tempus Fugit tore out of his hands, and flew to the middle of the room. Frantically, Ron grabbed for a piece of the long gold tail chain. The watch's wings were beating furiously, at a rate comparable to a hummingbird. A dull rumbling sound, like suppressed thunder, could be heard. It was getting louder and louder, until Ron's ears were going to burst.
A furious wind started out of nowhere, and blew with hurricane proportions. Hermione's hair was whipping wildly in Ron's face, and it hurt! There was a sudden bang and then he and Hermione seemed to be enclosed in a sort of bubble. In the bubble, everything was still looking normal and distinct. But looking out of the bubble, Dumbledore's entire office seemed blurred and dim.
Ron and Hermione watched themselves walk backwards, and in quick motion, out of Dumbledore's office.
Then, Dumbledore sat down and read a large tome of a book, backwards and in little more then thirty seconds.
The thunderous noise peaked. Ron desperately wanted to cover his ears, but he was afraid that if he let go of the Tempus Fugit, he'd be stranded somewhere in time. The little airborne watch suddenly was in motion. With a sickening realization, Ron saw it's destination to be the window. Just like a stupid bird, it didn't realize there was glass between it and outside.
Hermione let out the little scream, and Ron closed his eyes as the Tempus Fugit lunged, full speed, at the window. There was a crash, breaking the window. However, no glass seemed to hit Ron and Hermione.
Cautiously, Ron opened his eyes. At the sight below, his stomach went wild. They were suspended, mid-air, three stories above the ground. Above, the sun was coming up in the west, and setting in the east. The length of one day seemed to be shortening. Faster, and faster, it was like a little child was playing with a light switch.
Orange and wrinkled leaves became green and full of life. Summer came, then passed into wet spring. In the distance, Ron could see the maze from last year's Triwizard tournament grow smaller, until it was just the Quidditch pitch again. The speed increased even more, and now it was simply too dizzying to know what was happening.
Snow and rain were sucked up into clouds that existed for a fraction of a second.
Ron began to feel nauseous, as the sun flickered like a strobe light. He shut his eyes and tried to forget how many feet in the air he stood. He also tried to forget that the only thing keeping him from plummeting to the hard ground was a hyper flying pocket watch.
Eventually, Ron could feel himself decelerating. Again, he carefully opened his eyes. It was winter, and every inversed day lasted more then a second. He watched with awe as giant snow banks gravitated upwards, at an incredible speed, back to heavy looming clouds. The amount of snow gradually disappeared into the sky, and now scattered and dead leaves made their way back onto trees.
Almost at a stop, Ron saw a clear night dissolve as the sun "rose" in the west. Golden light bathed the entire castle, and he could see in the distance a tiny Hogwart's Express, moving backwards.
All at once, he felt himself lurch to stop. Before Ron realized what was happening, the bubble had evaporated and he was falling towards the ground. It took mere seconds until impact, and Ron felt like every bone in his body had shattered.
Lying motionlessly on the grass, Ron noticed how cool it had become. All throughout the journey in time, the temperature had remained close to that of Dumbledore's office. Now a crisp autumn breeze blew, and Ron wished he was wearing his cloak.
Beside him, he could hear Hermione lift herself up. "Ron," she said, "are you... alive?"
"No," he answered and fell back onto the grass.