** Are you ready for this?
Abby continued to gawk at him. It almost felt as though her heart had stopped beating. What was he saying? He was really 16 years older than her, but trapped in that body by an Age Charm? No, that wasn't possible…was it? No, it couldn't be. She'd had far too many surprises already. The likelihood that he would present her with another was too incredulous. But then, she had noticed that he acted incredibly mature for his age. He hung his head gravely and closed his eyes, giving a great sigh. Oh my god, thought Abby in disbelief; he's not lying to me.
"I was born a Death Eater," he began to explain. "On my father's side. My mother died in my childbirth, and my father was left to raise me. Of course, he was one of Voldemort's right-hand men, so I grew as a sort of a duke to the Dark Lord. I was a nobleman of the Death Eaters before I even knew what a nobleman was. My father was a great chemist. Had he steered clear of the Dark Arts, his name might have been famous in our world. But it didn't happen that way. When Voldemort heard tell of the Sorcerer's Stone, he knew immediately that he wanted it. Naturally my father was the one chosen for the task of replicating. It was raised on his discoveries, but I wasn't particularly good at making my own. The gift of alchemy simply hadn't passed into my genes.
"No, Voldemort had another job for me. As I reached my teenage years, he noticed that I was attracting a rather large number of women. They became quite easy to seduce. One gentle word and a flash of a smile and I could make them do anything I wanted them to do. Voldemort took it into his head that he would use this power as his own. I talked many a witch out of sentencing Dark wizards to Azkaban. I became rather popular with the Dark Lord's inner circle. And I learned the art of time travel.
"You see, the one in charge of that department of the Ministry was a pretty young witch, 19 years old, fresh out of Hogwarts. She fell in love with me immediately. It wasn't terribly difficult to convince her to allow me to use a Time Turner. Once, twice…a hundred times I turned it. I traveled through years, decades, both past and future. But you were the one who made me stop. I went some 20-plus years into the future, where I discovered your 16-year-old self. My god, you were beautiful. Long, silky black hair, sparkling green eyes…and a locket. This locket. You explained that it had been a gift from a young man by the name of Raphael. You were the Potter girl, and Voldemort had been out to murder both you and your father when you were hardly a year old. But as you slept, Raphael came and slipped this locket around your neck. When Voldemort came to curse you to your grave, he couldn't do it. The necklace protected you. It wasn't the key to immortal life; simply a deflector of the Killing Curse. Unfortunately, you told me, it also caused some serious problems with any spells you tried to do. Because of the chemical make-up of the necklace, and the defensive charms surrounding it, it also deflected little spells you tried to do. But it was the necklace that did it, not the locket.
"Well, I was a Death Eater. I was all set to kill you right then and there, if that was what my master required of me. Over the next few weeks I smooth-talked you into giving me the locket, knowing that you were completely vulnerable without it. Yet over that period time, something happened that I hadn't anticipated – I fell in love with you. That was why it was so easy to befriend you earlier this year. You already have deep-rooted feelings for me because we are to be in love in the future. And because I loved you, I couldn't bring myself to kill you. I hardly had the courage to speak harshly to you. I knew what I had to do. I had to get back to my own time so I could save your infancy from Voldemort.
"And I did just that. I took your locket and went back to when I was truly 16 years old. Before the Dark Lord could get you, I snuck into your home and put the locket around your neck in secret. I stayed in my time to keep an eye on you. Your parents knew of the protective power of the necklace, but they couldn't guess that it was I who gave it to you. When you grew older, I noticed that you were showing no signs of the magic that ran in your blood. I knew that was because of your necklace. I stole that from you, replacing it with the shoestring you've always known.
"As for Voldemort, well, that was simple enough. My father was killed by an Auror during a failed invasion of the Ministry. I made it seem as though I had been killed alongside him. I performed an Age Charm on myself and enrolled at Hogwarts so that I could keep an eye on you. And that, ma chérie, is the long and short of it. I know the Dark Lord is after you once again. That's why I gave you back your necklace. That's why your scar glows green – the necklace. And the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin because it knew I used to be a Dark wizard. But I'm not anymore. Abigail, you must believe me. I'm only trying to protect you. When that train comes to take you home tomorrow morning, you must go. You're not safe around me anymore. I think Voldemort's finally caught on to me."
Abby had listened to all of this in quiet contemplation. Confusion was making her head spin. How had he known all these things? If he was lying, how then did he know her magic had only shown itself at a late age? How did he know of the aching crush she had on him? His story had been too intricate, too believable, to be a lie. But she had heard enough stories to last a lifetime. All these surprises were making her dizzy.
At last she got to her feet. "Get out," she said so softly it froze her voice. "You're lying to me. I can't deal with all this right now. I want you out, and I want you out now." She had no desire to cry, but if he didn't leave now, she was sure she'd go out of her mind. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.
"Right," he said, getting slowly to his feet. "I expected as much. I'm sorry; I just thought you ought to know the truth –"
"I told you to get out," she replied sharply. If she'd had the patience to look at him, even for a moment, she would have seen the confusion of emotions in his eyes. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't want to terrify her any more than she already was. She was right – she had had enough to deal with today. But if she was going to fight against this, she needed to know what she was up against at least. She just wasn't ready for the rest. Not yet. He left her with one last lingering look and trotted back through the portrait hole. Abby could hear a very distraught Fat Lady huffing at his return.
She sighed, nestling deeply into the chair. The calm of the silent, empty common room came as an enormous comfort. So many stories she'd heard today…lord, where did they start? She closed her eyes and tried to remember. Ah, yes. She was the girl who lived. Why hadn't her parents told her that? Things would have been easier to deal with had she had more time to at least accept that one. Then she was told why she was the girl who lived. Oh, and the Dark wizard threatening her family. Yes, that had come as quite a shock as well. She was headed home tomorrow to live out the rest of Voldemort's life with no company other than that of her parents and Snape. And a baby sibling. She would have a new little brother or sister before a year had passed. Well, at least there was something going for her. So much to cope with…
Abby was beginning to get a headache.
Where on earth had Elijah come up with that ridiculous story, anyway? He was really a Death Eater under an Age Charm…didn't magical aging come from potions? Man, if he's got to lie, at least he could get his facts straight, she thought, covering her eyes with the palm of her hand. The light was starting to feel terribly bright. But what if it was true? What if he really was the one who had saved her life?
No, that wasn't possible. It couldn't be. She was beginning to make things up again, to believe things that couldn't possibly be true. Abby, Paul's right – you really do have to stop being so bloody gullible. She reached behind her neck and carefully slid off the necklace. Elijah did make one good point – when she took off the necklace, the throbbing from her scar began to subside. Was that why it had turned green?
There really ought to be an age restriction on these tall tales. No fairy tales past five years old.
She could feel herself drifting off into sleep and tried to startle herself away. She still had a mountain of packing to do. No matter how many lies she'd been told, the truth was still there, staring her right in the face: her parents were coming to take her come tomorrow morning. She gave a giant sigh and pried herself off the chair. It felt as though she'd been sitting there for ages. Actually, it was starting to become comfortable. Maybe too comfortable, really.
On her way up to the girl's dormitory, she struggled to reason things out.
Okay, benefit of the doubt. Let's say Elijah's telling the truth. So now I know who the Dark wizard is who's been troubling my parents – him. Isn't it? It sort of makes sense. But if he's been threatening them, why would he tell me? Why wouldn't he just finish me off? Oh my god – the necklace. He can't kill me. What if he's already tried and discovered he can't? Is that why he wants to get to my parents first? What if he's already had this all planned out? He'll scare my parents into getting me a Secret-Keeper, then bam! He'll strike, right in the middle of the spell.
Abigail, came another voice from even deeper within herself. This voice was soothing, almost in the tone of her mother. Go upstairs and pack so you can get some sleep. You're starting to talk to yourself again.