Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
Dangers in the Past.
Once again, Ryan woke up feeling disoriented, but this time he wasn't lying on the cold floor of the Chamber. Instead he was lying on a soft bed. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew where he was: the hospital wing.
Sighing, he remembered Dumbledore saying the stunning charm, and since the Dumbledore of the past had, by then, been lying in a bed already asleep, he had to assume that the older Dumbledore had arrived.
Slowly, Ryan opened his eyes and looked around. Everyone else was still asleep in their own bed. Even Dumbledore, sitting in a chair between his and Harry's beds, was sleeping. Standing up, Ryan stretched and then levitated Dumbledore into his bed. The headmaster really shouldn't have to sleep in a chair at his age. Immediately after that last thought, Ryan chuckled softly, the old headmaster would have his head if he knew what his ex-student had been thinking.
Looking around once again, he noticed that Snape, Ethan and the Death Eaters were missing; he supposed Dumbledore had ordered the Potions master and the young Gryffindor to bring them back to their own time before they could cause any more harm. Ryan didn't know if that were possible, considering all that had happened, but it was better not to risk it. Memories could be erased, but people couldn't be brought back to the land of the living.
The younger Dumbledore was also missing, along with Madam Pomfrey. Ryan guessed they had gone away to talk since they would risk waking everyone up if they conversed in there. Silently, he sat down in the chair Dumbledore had just occupied and once again took one of Harry's limp hands into his. In the morning light, Harry looked even paler than he had the night before, which did nothing to alleviate Ryan's fears. Of course, he should be used to it by now, Harry spent more time in the hospital wing than anyone else before him, but yet Ryan could never get used to see his child so still, it was unnerving. A soft sound tore him away from his musings. Looking around, his eyes caught a pair of blue ones that were watching him intently from another bed. Ryan gazed back at his younger self; slightly unnerved at the intensity he could see in those eyes. After a few minutes, Ryan was forced to look away. Those brilliant eyes that, even when serious held the mischievous glint in them, were bringing him bad memories. His eyes should have been like that, maybe a tad older and wiser, but still bright and happy. Yet, when he looked in a mirror, all he could see was the dull pale eyes of a man that had seen too much horror and that had gone through things that no one should ever have to.
Shaking his head sadly, as if trying to drive those bad thoughts away, Ryan fixed his gaze on Harry while softly adressing the other boy.
"Good morning, Sirius. How are you feeling?"
Ryan heard the teen moving on the other side of the room but didn't look back. After a few moments, he heard soft footsteps approaching and saw a dark figure come to stand next to him. He didn't look up.
"Good morning." Sighing, the teen added, "What should I call you?"
The older man shrugged his shoulders. "Professor, Ryan, Padfoot, whatever you want. Just better not call me Sirius, that would led to confusion."
They stayed in silence a while longer before Sirius's uncertain voice broke it again. "You are me, aren't you?"
Ryan simply nodded and Sirius continued. "Why are we so different? I look at Moony and Professor Moon and can clearly see they are the same man, but you and I. we, don't really look that much alike."
Ryan bit his lip in thought. What was he supposed to tell the teen? He could hardly tell him the truth, could he? It was just too horrible. A quick glance at his younger self made him sigh again. He knew that look. Sirius was determined to know the truth, no matter what. Finally, Ryan answered. "Time affects people in different ways, Sirius. Moony and I have gone through hell and back, but it has affected us differently."
Ryan could almost sense Sirius frown, but didn't add anything else. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him look up. His eyes locked once again with those brilliant blue pools as the teen softly asked, "Please, tell me? What happened to make me finally live up to my name?"
Ryan chuckled softly at the overused joke and looked back down at his godson. "Why do you need to know, Sirius? Is it really that important?"
The young man didn't answer for a while. "I. I guess it's not. Still I would like to know. I would like to be prepared for whatever it is that must come."
Ryan's soft voice rang through the room. "Nothing can prepare you for Azkaban, Sirius. And nothing can prepare you for the deaths of two dear friends and the betrayal of another." Ryan heard Sirius's shocked gasp, but continued. "Moony and I are all that's left of the Marauders. James died at Voldemort's hand when Harry was barely one. Lily died with him, leaving their son alone. And Peter. Peter betrayed us, all of us. He gave away James's and Lily's hiding place to Voldemort and after that, he managed to get the ministry to believe I had done it." Ryan's deadened eyes locked with Sirius's shocked ones, once again. "Absolutely nothing can prepare you for twelve years in Azkaban."
Ryan then turned his gaze back on Harry, leaving Sirius to his thoughts. Daniel, who had been awake for quite a while, but had decided it best to leave his two friends on their own, now stood up and went to stand next to Ryan.
"Good morning, Padfoot."
Smiling sadly at the teenager, Daniel greeted him, too. Then, turning his attention to the bed, he put a hand on Harry's forehead, noticing with much relief that the child didn't have a fever. Letting his hand fall back to his side, Daniel turned around and walked to Lily's bed. Ryan followed him with his eyes, looking concerned when his friend frowned. "What's wrong, Moony?"
The other man shook his head, but as he walked up to James's bed, his frown deepened. "Moony?"
The werewolf finally looked up. "I'm not sure, Padfoot. I sense there's something wrong with them, but I can't pin-point it. It's strange. I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey. Maybe I'm wrong."
But Ryan couldn't help but frown with worry. He knew his friend, and he knew he rarely was wrong about those kinds of things. Ryan would have gone to check for himself, but just then, Harry started to stir.
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Harry moaned softly. He wanted to roll on his stomach as his back was really hurting him, but someone was holding onto his hand too tightly, restricting his movement. He struggled weakly against the other hand until it seemed to understand his need to move and let go. Harry immediately rolled over, but the relief he felt in his back was short-lived, for immediately after he had moved, he felt himself beginning to fall. Before he hit anything, strong arms wrapped around his waist and he felt himself being lift up into the bed again. Gentle hands moved him on his stomach, and then pulled some hair out of his eyes. Sighing, Harry opened his eyes slightly, and saw Ryan's concerned gaze fixed on him.
Ryan kneeled slightly and put a hand on his godson's check. "Harry? Are you ok?"
His voice was weak and slurred when he answered. "Yeah, fine."
His godfather, though, didn't seem to believe him in the least. Pulling the blankets up to his neck, he looked away, and through a haze, Harry heard him talk to someone else before his vision darkened again.
Ryan had asked Sirius to go to fetch Madam Pomfrey. When he turned back to the still figure of his godson, he sighed. It seemed Harry was once again out of it. Sitting back into his chair, he returned his attention to Daniel.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
His friend looked up from his place next to James's bed, a frown still etched on his face. "I told you I wasn't sure. How's Harry?"
Ryan shook his head and frowned. "He's out again, but don't change the subject. You must have a reason to think something's wrong, Moony. You wouldn't be acting like this if you weren't really sure."
Daniel went to sit next to his friend. "I really don't know, it's just a feeling. It feels like they are in a very deep sleep. a bit too deep, like something is trapping them inside themselves."
Ryan looked at him with knitted brow. "How on earth can you sense something like that?"
Daniel smiled softly. "We werewolves can sense if there is some awareness around us. People who are awake are very easy to sense, but when you go to sleep, most of your awareness rests as well. There is still some part of your mind that stays awake and werewolves can sense that part as easily as they can sense someone who is awake. That part in James and Lily is very small right now. Smaller than it should be. That usually can only happen as a result of a potion or curse. That's why I think something's wrong. That, and the fact that Malfoy didn't appear to do anything to them, that just didn't make sense."
The two friends fell into silence until Sirius returned with Madam Pomfrey and the younger Dumbledore. The woman had indeed been in the Headmaster's office discussing the condition of the party. She immediately went over to Harry's bed and checked his injuries, re-wrapping the bandages that had come loose from the movement around his back. Once she was finished, Daniel moved over to her and spoke to the nurse in hushed tones. After a few moments, they moved to Lily and James's beds, and Madam Pomfrey checked them over once again, this time taking special care to look for any signs of poison since she had already established the night before that here had not been any charms placed on them. Finally, she sighed and came over to where Daniel, Dumbledore and Ryan were waiting.
"You were right, Daniel, there's something wrong, but I'm afraid my expertise isn't sufficient enough to determine what kind of poison it is. We'll need Danielle."
The witch was sent for, but sadly could not pinpoint what kind of poison it was, either. They were at a loss as to what they should do, when the older Dumbledore finally awakened. After having explained to the old headmaster the situation, he would sent a letter to the future and ask Snape to come back, since his knowledge of potions, especially those involving the dark arts, was much more extensive than either of the two witches possessed.
To be continued.
A/N: Thanks for all reviews and thanks to my beta readers Tanya and Gates.
Dangers in the Past.
Once again, Ryan woke up feeling disoriented, but this time he wasn't lying on the cold floor of the Chamber. Instead he was lying on a soft bed. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew where he was: the hospital wing.
Sighing, he remembered Dumbledore saying the stunning charm, and since the Dumbledore of the past had, by then, been lying in a bed already asleep, he had to assume that the older Dumbledore had arrived.
Slowly, Ryan opened his eyes and looked around. Everyone else was still asleep in their own bed. Even Dumbledore, sitting in a chair between his and Harry's beds, was sleeping. Standing up, Ryan stretched and then levitated Dumbledore into his bed. The headmaster really shouldn't have to sleep in a chair at his age. Immediately after that last thought, Ryan chuckled softly, the old headmaster would have his head if he knew what his ex-student had been thinking.
Looking around once again, he noticed that Snape, Ethan and the Death Eaters were missing; he supposed Dumbledore had ordered the Potions master and the young Gryffindor to bring them back to their own time before they could cause any more harm. Ryan didn't know if that were possible, considering all that had happened, but it was better not to risk it. Memories could be erased, but people couldn't be brought back to the land of the living.
The younger Dumbledore was also missing, along with Madam Pomfrey. Ryan guessed they had gone away to talk since they would risk waking everyone up if they conversed in there. Silently, he sat down in the chair Dumbledore had just occupied and once again took one of Harry's limp hands into his. In the morning light, Harry looked even paler than he had the night before, which did nothing to alleviate Ryan's fears. Of course, he should be used to it by now, Harry spent more time in the hospital wing than anyone else before him, but yet Ryan could never get used to see his child so still, it was unnerving. A soft sound tore him away from his musings. Looking around, his eyes caught a pair of blue ones that were watching him intently from another bed. Ryan gazed back at his younger self; slightly unnerved at the intensity he could see in those eyes. After a few minutes, Ryan was forced to look away. Those brilliant eyes that, even when serious held the mischievous glint in them, were bringing him bad memories. His eyes should have been like that, maybe a tad older and wiser, but still bright and happy. Yet, when he looked in a mirror, all he could see was the dull pale eyes of a man that had seen too much horror and that had gone through things that no one should ever have to.
Shaking his head sadly, as if trying to drive those bad thoughts away, Ryan fixed his gaze on Harry while softly adressing the other boy.
"Good morning, Sirius. How are you feeling?"
Ryan heard the teen moving on the other side of the room but didn't look back. After a few moments, he heard soft footsteps approaching and saw a dark figure come to stand next to him. He didn't look up.
"Good morning." Sighing, the teen added, "What should I call you?"
The older man shrugged his shoulders. "Professor, Ryan, Padfoot, whatever you want. Just better not call me Sirius, that would led to confusion."
They stayed in silence a while longer before Sirius's uncertain voice broke it again. "You are me, aren't you?"
Ryan simply nodded and Sirius continued. "Why are we so different? I look at Moony and Professor Moon and can clearly see they are the same man, but you and I. we, don't really look that much alike."
Ryan bit his lip in thought. What was he supposed to tell the teen? He could hardly tell him the truth, could he? It was just too horrible. A quick glance at his younger self made him sigh again. He knew that look. Sirius was determined to know the truth, no matter what. Finally, Ryan answered. "Time affects people in different ways, Sirius. Moony and I have gone through hell and back, but it has affected us differently."
Ryan could almost sense Sirius frown, but didn't add anything else. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him look up. His eyes locked once again with those brilliant blue pools as the teen softly asked, "Please, tell me? What happened to make me finally live up to my name?"
Ryan chuckled softly at the overused joke and looked back down at his godson. "Why do you need to know, Sirius? Is it really that important?"
The young man didn't answer for a while. "I. I guess it's not. Still I would like to know. I would like to be prepared for whatever it is that must come."
Ryan's soft voice rang through the room. "Nothing can prepare you for Azkaban, Sirius. And nothing can prepare you for the deaths of two dear friends and the betrayal of another." Ryan heard Sirius's shocked gasp, but continued. "Moony and I are all that's left of the Marauders. James died at Voldemort's hand when Harry was barely one. Lily died with him, leaving their son alone. And Peter. Peter betrayed us, all of us. He gave away James's and Lily's hiding place to Voldemort and after that, he managed to get the ministry to believe I had done it." Ryan's deadened eyes locked with Sirius's shocked ones, once again. "Absolutely nothing can prepare you for twelve years in Azkaban."
Ryan then turned his gaze back on Harry, leaving Sirius to his thoughts. Daniel, who had been awake for quite a while, but had decided it best to leave his two friends on their own, now stood up and went to stand next to Ryan.
"Good morning, Padfoot."
Smiling sadly at the teenager, Daniel greeted him, too. Then, turning his attention to the bed, he put a hand on Harry's forehead, noticing with much relief that the child didn't have a fever. Letting his hand fall back to his side, Daniel turned around and walked to Lily's bed. Ryan followed him with his eyes, looking concerned when his friend frowned. "What's wrong, Moony?"
The other man shook his head, but as he walked up to James's bed, his frown deepened. "Moony?"
The werewolf finally looked up. "I'm not sure, Padfoot. I sense there's something wrong with them, but I can't pin-point it. It's strange. I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey. Maybe I'm wrong."
But Ryan couldn't help but frown with worry. He knew his friend, and he knew he rarely was wrong about those kinds of things. Ryan would have gone to check for himself, but just then, Harry started to stir.
**************************************************************************** *******
Harry moaned softly. He wanted to roll on his stomach as his back was really hurting him, but someone was holding onto his hand too tightly, restricting his movement. He struggled weakly against the other hand until it seemed to understand his need to move and let go. Harry immediately rolled over, but the relief he felt in his back was short-lived, for immediately after he had moved, he felt himself beginning to fall. Before he hit anything, strong arms wrapped around his waist and he felt himself being lift up into the bed again. Gentle hands moved him on his stomach, and then pulled some hair out of his eyes. Sighing, Harry opened his eyes slightly, and saw Ryan's concerned gaze fixed on him.
Ryan kneeled slightly and put a hand on his godson's check. "Harry? Are you ok?"
His voice was weak and slurred when he answered. "Yeah, fine."
His godfather, though, didn't seem to believe him in the least. Pulling the blankets up to his neck, he looked away, and through a haze, Harry heard him talk to someone else before his vision darkened again.
Ryan had asked Sirius to go to fetch Madam Pomfrey. When he turned back to the still figure of his godson, he sighed. It seemed Harry was once again out of it. Sitting back into his chair, he returned his attention to Daniel.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
His friend looked up from his place next to James's bed, a frown still etched on his face. "I told you I wasn't sure. How's Harry?"
Ryan shook his head and frowned. "He's out again, but don't change the subject. You must have a reason to think something's wrong, Moony. You wouldn't be acting like this if you weren't really sure."
Daniel went to sit next to his friend. "I really don't know, it's just a feeling. It feels like they are in a very deep sleep. a bit too deep, like something is trapping them inside themselves."
Ryan looked at him with knitted brow. "How on earth can you sense something like that?"
Daniel smiled softly. "We werewolves can sense if there is some awareness around us. People who are awake are very easy to sense, but when you go to sleep, most of your awareness rests as well. There is still some part of your mind that stays awake and werewolves can sense that part as easily as they can sense someone who is awake. That part in James and Lily is very small right now. Smaller than it should be. That usually can only happen as a result of a potion or curse. That's why I think something's wrong. That, and the fact that Malfoy didn't appear to do anything to them, that just didn't make sense."
The two friends fell into silence until Sirius returned with Madam Pomfrey and the younger Dumbledore. The woman had indeed been in the Headmaster's office discussing the condition of the party. She immediately went over to Harry's bed and checked his injuries, re-wrapping the bandages that had come loose from the movement around his back. Once she was finished, Daniel moved over to her and spoke to the nurse in hushed tones. After a few moments, they moved to Lily and James's beds, and Madam Pomfrey checked them over once again, this time taking special care to look for any signs of poison since she had already established the night before that here had not been any charms placed on them. Finally, she sighed and came over to where Daniel, Dumbledore and Ryan were waiting.
"You were right, Daniel, there's something wrong, but I'm afraid my expertise isn't sufficient enough to determine what kind of poison it is. We'll need Danielle."
The witch was sent for, but sadly could not pinpoint what kind of poison it was, either. They were at a loss as to what they should do, when the older Dumbledore finally awakened. After having explained to the old headmaster the situation, he would sent a letter to the future and ask Snape to come back, since his knowledge of potions, especially those involving the dark arts, was much more extensive than either of the two witches possessed.
To be continued.
A/N: Thanks for all reviews and thanks to my beta readers Tanya and Gates.