Hey.
Thanks everybody who reviewed:
Ingrid7
Indiangurl
sally-jo
olivia
sarah!
potterguy25
zeldagrl436
Tropic
serenity
sbsammy
Crazy Resident Evil Fan
Psycho Tom Felton Fan
Journi
Dracoz-snug-love
Bluetiger94
Serena24
_____________________________________---_____________________________________
James stood up from the bed. His face was white with anger, his fists clenched by his sides. He took heavy, even strides towards the door.
"James?" said Sirius, worried, "What are you doing?"
"Peter..." he muttered, "I'll beat that twerp into submission..."
"No!" Harry cried. Even he did not know why he did this. He would love to see Peter given what he deserved, but he hadn't done anything wrong yet.
James turned around to face Harry. His face had gotten back some of it's colour, but he looked murderous nonetheless.
"Why not?" he asked, "It's all his fault, everything you've had to live through. You're my...future...son. He deserves it."
"Yes, he does," Harry agreed.
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is," Harry explained, "that he hasn't done anything wrong yet. He won't for another 4 years. And now, because of this....he won't ever."
"He's right, James," Sirius reasoned.
"Harry's right, James. Don't do anything rash," Lily said.
James unclenched his fists, and, shaking, sat himself on Sirius's bed. He spat on Peter's.
"He atleast deserved that," he commented dryly.
"Look," Harry said, "Don't get mad at him for this, because he probably isn't going to do it now. Hate him all you want, but don't do anything you'll regret. People won't take well to knowing that you know the future. They'll lock you up in St. Mungo's."
James sighed. "I guess you're right. But still...I need to punch something..."
Sirius grinned and tossed him a pillow.
"This isn't good enough..."
"We could draw a picture of Peter on it, if you'd like," Sirius joked, smirking.
~~**~~
Hermione hadn't talked to Harry since yesterday. She hoped he had thought about what she'd said, but knowing Harry, knew he wouldn't change his mind. Too stubborn.
Hermione was having a blast with Lily, Myra and Callia. She wasn't sure where Lily was right now...she supposed Harry must be telling them their futures.
Hermione did not want to go home. She wanted to stay in 1976 forever. Forget home, forget her parents, forget all that. Hermione belonged. She had friends, whom she adored, and who adored her. Dumbledore had said, after all, that it could take from hours to years to get home. Hermione was hoping it would be decades.
Hermione was in her dorm, lying on her unmade bed. It was December 23rd, two days until Christmas, and she had not bought her new friends any presents. She supposed she could just zap something with her wand, but she wanted her gifts to be really good....wand-zapped gifts didn't cut it.
"Hermione?" Myra asked, entering the dorm.
"On my bed," she said, although she knew perfectly well Myra could see her.
"Whatcha doing up here?" Myra asked, "You're all alone in the dark. Come down to the common room."
"Yeah, okay, I guess I will. I'm not really sure why I'm up here anyways..."
~~**~~
There were not many students in the common room, as over half of the Gryffindor's had gone home for the holidays. Hermione spotted Lily sitting with James, Harry and Sirius. Her suspicions had been confirmed--Harry had been telling him. Remus was playing chess with Peter, who was an awful player, not really worth playing against at all. There were a few third years Hermione didn't know who were gawking at Sirius. Hermione had to laugh...they'd be horrified if they knew he ended up in Azkaban.
Callia was sitting alone in an armchair. Hermione guessed that Myra had been with her, then had gone to get her. Hermione sat. Her chair was by the fire so the flames were tickling her toes with heat. It was quite pleasant.
Outside the windows, Hermione could see snow falling. It would be a white Christmas. Perfect. The sun was hidden by fluffy white snow clouds, so it was darker than usual in the common room, but you could say that it was cozy.
Hermione glanced at Callia. She was still in her pajamas...it was nearly three o'clock.
"Callia," Hermione started, "Aren't you going to get dressed?"
Come to think of it, Hermione had only seen Callia in day clothes once or twice.
Myra laughed a little. "Callia never gets dressed on holidays. Says it's a waste of time when she could be relaxing."
"Yep," Callia agreed, smiling at herself.
An idea flashed into Hermione's mind, like a lightbulb turning on.
"When's the next Hogsmeade trip?" she asked casually.
"Hold on a sec," Myra said. She heaved herself out of her chair and sauntered over to the Gryffindor notice board where the calendar hung. Myra consulted it for a few moments, then came back to her seat. "Not until January, the 18th, I think."
"Oh," Hermione said, disappointed.
"Why? Did you want to get something?"
"Well, it's just that I've done none of my Christmas shopping, and I thought that Hogsmeade would be perfect for it."
"Well," Callia said, eyes glinting, "If you want a way out of the school, they're the ones to ask." Callia gestured to James and Sirius.
Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? Harry was always talking about that witch statue! This was great.
~~**~~
Peter was upset. The whole day now, his friends had been avoiding him. Even Remus, who'd always been so nice.
Did I do something? he thought. I don't remember doing anything....maybe it's just me...
Peter was smart in some ways. He knew one thing--he was not in the same league as his friends. Sure, he had become an Animagi with them and everything, but he was not as tall, not as popular, not as good-looking, not as great.
Peter Pettigrew worshipped his friends. He honestly did not know why they were friends with him, but he had decided to enjoy it while it lasted. He figured that they just felt sorry for him, but he didn't care. They were always there to protect him, give him answers...and he liked it.
But now, they were avoiding him. Had they finally grown sick of him? Got tired of having a short, ugly, rat-faced wimp around them all the time? Probably, yes. Peter knew he had to win them back...he had to change, and change immensely. No more squeals of joy when James accomplishes something at Quidditch, no more whimpering...I've got to become more like them. I've got to be brave.
I, thought Peter Pettigrew, can do it!
~~**~~
Lily was still in shock from Harry's speech. He was her son? From the future? *Peter Pettigrew* would cause *her* death? It was too much to believe--and yet she did.
Harry had to be her son. He had her exact eyes. It was like a mirror image. Lily had never seen anybody in her life with eyes as green as hers. *And* he looked *exactly* like James. So she was certain on the fact that Harry was, indeed, her son.
Lily, too, was mad at Peter, but not as mad as James. He had included Remus in the "news" and now all three avoided Peter like he was a germ. To them, he was.
Sirius, James and Remus realized the fact that right now, right here, Peter was innocent, had done nothing. But they were mad, nonetheless, at his future self for betraying his best friends.
Lily wanted to talk to Hermione. According to Harry, she, too, was from the future. Lily wanted to learn about the future. She yearned to know what it would be like. It was very important to her to know, considering her future self would only live to 21.
~~**~~
Harry was wondering where Ron was. He had spent most of the day trying to calm down his father, and had lost sight of his red-headed friend.
Harry had honestly no idea where Ron might have went. It was holidays, so he wouldn't be in the library, and he wasn't in the dorm, or the common room....so where *was* he?
A sick, jolting thought hit Harry. It seemed to wrench apart his stomach. What if the bridge had come? What if the bridge had come when he and Hermione were not there? What if Ron were in the future, without them, and they were stuck in the past?
Hermione would be happy. She did not want to go home. She wanted to stay here with her new friends. Harry felt he had to go home. If he didn't, how could his mother ever give birth to him, if he was already alive and existing? How would people react to knowing that he was the *exact same age* as his parents? Harry had to go home, it would be impossible for him to stay.
The bridge has to come again, Harry thought. Time can't leave us here, there's no way....it has to come again....it *will* come again...
~~**~~
Ron did not want this to happen. He couldn't go back! Not without Harry and Hermione! Why was the bridge doing this to him? If he went back....and by the force the bridge was putting on him, he'd have to....would Harry and Hermione ever get back? Ron couldn't be at Hogwarts without his friends! It was to hard a thought to comprehend.
Ron wanted to run. Get away from the bridge, go get Harry and Hermione, bring them home. He tried, and he tried, but he could not move. The harder he tried to wrench himself away from the bridge, the harder it pulled him in.
"NO!" he cried. But nobody was around to hear him. Just the trees, and the snow, and the Forest.
Ron had gone out for a walk. Harry had been busy talking to his parents, and Hermione was busy with her friends, and didn't really want to interrupt either. So he decided to go for a walk. It would be peaceful, he had thought. Relaxing. Comforting. Whatever you called it, it was supposed to be enjoyable. Being yanked back into his own decade without his friends was not enjoyable.
Ron was on the bridge now. He was not walking, not moving a single muscle, yet he was moving across it. Ron did not know what power this bridge had, but it was pretty scary. Almost worse than spiders.
He past the plank reading 1980...the year he was born....he kept moving. Past 1985, past 1990, past 1995, 1996....and then it stopped. Right on 1997, exactly where he had come from.
Ron was on solid ground now. The bridge was gone. There was no trace of it, nothing at all. There was no fog, no odd pink cloud, nothing. Just Ron and the snow and the trees. But no Harry, and no Hermione. He was home, and they were stuck in 1976.
Would they get back? They had to. It may take a while, he thought, but they'll come home.
Right?
_______________________________________---____________________________________
Ooh, personally, I thought this was my favourite chapter. Hope you liked it as much as I did. So review it, okay, and tell me...
Bye for now,
*Lily~Pad*
Thanks everybody who reviewed:
Ingrid7
Indiangurl
sally-jo
olivia
sarah!
potterguy25
zeldagrl436
Tropic
serenity
sbsammy
Crazy Resident Evil Fan
Psycho Tom Felton Fan
Journi
Dracoz-snug-love
Bluetiger94
Serena24
_____________________________________---_____________________________________
James stood up from the bed. His face was white with anger, his fists clenched by his sides. He took heavy, even strides towards the door.
"James?" said Sirius, worried, "What are you doing?"
"Peter..." he muttered, "I'll beat that twerp into submission..."
"No!" Harry cried. Even he did not know why he did this. He would love to see Peter given what he deserved, but he hadn't done anything wrong yet.
James turned around to face Harry. His face had gotten back some of it's colour, but he looked murderous nonetheless.
"Why not?" he asked, "It's all his fault, everything you've had to live through. You're my...future...son. He deserves it."
"Yes, he does," Harry agreed.
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is," Harry explained, "that he hasn't done anything wrong yet. He won't for another 4 years. And now, because of this....he won't ever."
"He's right, James," Sirius reasoned.
"Harry's right, James. Don't do anything rash," Lily said.
James unclenched his fists, and, shaking, sat himself on Sirius's bed. He spat on Peter's.
"He atleast deserved that," he commented dryly.
"Look," Harry said, "Don't get mad at him for this, because he probably isn't going to do it now. Hate him all you want, but don't do anything you'll regret. People won't take well to knowing that you know the future. They'll lock you up in St. Mungo's."
James sighed. "I guess you're right. But still...I need to punch something..."
Sirius grinned and tossed him a pillow.
"This isn't good enough..."
"We could draw a picture of Peter on it, if you'd like," Sirius joked, smirking.
~~**~~
Hermione hadn't talked to Harry since yesterday. She hoped he had thought about what she'd said, but knowing Harry, knew he wouldn't change his mind. Too stubborn.
Hermione was having a blast with Lily, Myra and Callia. She wasn't sure where Lily was right now...she supposed Harry must be telling them their futures.
Hermione did not want to go home. She wanted to stay in 1976 forever. Forget home, forget her parents, forget all that. Hermione belonged. She had friends, whom she adored, and who adored her. Dumbledore had said, after all, that it could take from hours to years to get home. Hermione was hoping it would be decades.
Hermione was in her dorm, lying on her unmade bed. It was December 23rd, two days until Christmas, and she had not bought her new friends any presents. She supposed she could just zap something with her wand, but she wanted her gifts to be really good....wand-zapped gifts didn't cut it.
"Hermione?" Myra asked, entering the dorm.
"On my bed," she said, although she knew perfectly well Myra could see her.
"Whatcha doing up here?" Myra asked, "You're all alone in the dark. Come down to the common room."
"Yeah, okay, I guess I will. I'm not really sure why I'm up here anyways..."
~~**~~
There were not many students in the common room, as over half of the Gryffindor's had gone home for the holidays. Hermione spotted Lily sitting with James, Harry and Sirius. Her suspicions had been confirmed--Harry had been telling him. Remus was playing chess with Peter, who was an awful player, not really worth playing against at all. There were a few third years Hermione didn't know who were gawking at Sirius. Hermione had to laugh...they'd be horrified if they knew he ended up in Azkaban.
Callia was sitting alone in an armchair. Hermione guessed that Myra had been with her, then had gone to get her. Hermione sat. Her chair was by the fire so the flames were tickling her toes with heat. It was quite pleasant.
Outside the windows, Hermione could see snow falling. It would be a white Christmas. Perfect. The sun was hidden by fluffy white snow clouds, so it was darker than usual in the common room, but you could say that it was cozy.
Hermione glanced at Callia. She was still in her pajamas...it was nearly three o'clock.
"Callia," Hermione started, "Aren't you going to get dressed?"
Come to think of it, Hermione had only seen Callia in day clothes once or twice.
Myra laughed a little. "Callia never gets dressed on holidays. Says it's a waste of time when she could be relaxing."
"Yep," Callia agreed, smiling at herself.
An idea flashed into Hermione's mind, like a lightbulb turning on.
"When's the next Hogsmeade trip?" she asked casually.
"Hold on a sec," Myra said. She heaved herself out of her chair and sauntered over to the Gryffindor notice board where the calendar hung. Myra consulted it for a few moments, then came back to her seat. "Not until January, the 18th, I think."
"Oh," Hermione said, disappointed.
"Why? Did you want to get something?"
"Well, it's just that I've done none of my Christmas shopping, and I thought that Hogsmeade would be perfect for it."
"Well," Callia said, eyes glinting, "If you want a way out of the school, they're the ones to ask." Callia gestured to James and Sirius.
Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? Harry was always talking about that witch statue! This was great.
~~**~~
Peter was upset. The whole day now, his friends had been avoiding him. Even Remus, who'd always been so nice.
Did I do something? he thought. I don't remember doing anything....maybe it's just me...
Peter was smart in some ways. He knew one thing--he was not in the same league as his friends. Sure, he had become an Animagi with them and everything, but he was not as tall, not as popular, not as good-looking, not as great.
Peter Pettigrew worshipped his friends. He honestly did not know why they were friends with him, but he had decided to enjoy it while it lasted. He figured that they just felt sorry for him, but he didn't care. They were always there to protect him, give him answers...and he liked it.
But now, they were avoiding him. Had they finally grown sick of him? Got tired of having a short, ugly, rat-faced wimp around them all the time? Probably, yes. Peter knew he had to win them back...he had to change, and change immensely. No more squeals of joy when James accomplishes something at Quidditch, no more whimpering...I've got to become more like them. I've got to be brave.
I, thought Peter Pettigrew, can do it!
~~**~~
Lily was still in shock from Harry's speech. He was her son? From the future? *Peter Pettigrew* would cause *her* death? It was too much to believe--and yet she did.
Harry had to be her son. He had her exact eyes. It was like a mirror image. Lily had never seen anybody in her life with eyes as green as hers. *And* he looked *exactly* like James. So she was certain on the fact that Harry was, indeed, her son.
Lily, too, was mad at Peter, but not as mad as James. He had included Remus in the "news" and now all three avoided Peter like he was a germ. To them, he was.
Sirius, James and Remus realized the fact that right now, right here, Peter was innocent, had done nothing. But they were mad, nonetheless, at his future self for betraying his best friends.
Lily wanted to talk to Hermione. According to Harry, she, too, was from the future. Lily wanted to learn about the future. She yearned to know what it would be like. It was very important to her to know, considering her future self would only live to 21.
~~**~~
Harry was wondering where Ron was. He had spent most of the day trying to calm down his father, and had lost sight of his red-headed friend.
Harry had honestly no idea where Ron might have went. It was holidays, so he wouldn't be in the library, and he wasn't in the dorm, or the common room....so where *was* he?
A sick, jolting thought hit Harry. It seemed to wrench apart his stomach. What if the bridge had come? What if the bridge had come when he and Hermione were not there? What if Ron were in the future, without them, and they were stuck in the past?
Hermione would be happy. She did not want to go home. She wanted to stay here with her new friends. Harry felt he had to go home. If he didn't, how could his mother ever give birth to him, if he was already alive and existing? How would people react to knowing that he was the *exact same age* as his parents? Harry had to go home, it would be impossible for him to stay.
The bridge has to come again, Harry thought. Time can't leave us here, there's no way....it has to come again....it *will* come again...
~~**~~
Ron did not want this to happen. He couldn't go back! Not without Harry and Hermione! Why was the bridge doing this to him? If he went back....and by the force the bridge was putting on him, he'd have to....would Harry and Hermione ever get back? Ron couldn't be at Hogwarts without his friends! It was to hard a thought to comprehend.
Ron wanted to run. Get away from the bridge, go get Harry and Hermione, bring them home. He tried, and he tried, but he could not move. The harder he tried to wrench himself away from the bridge, the harder it pulled him in.
"NO!" he cried. But nobody was around to hear him. Just the trees, and the snow, and the Forest.
Ron had gone out for a walk. Harry had been busy talking to his parents, and Hermione was busy with her friends, and didn't really want to interrupt either. So he decided to go for a walk. It would be peaceful, he had thought. Relaxing. Comforting. Whatever you called it, it was supposed to be enjoyable. Being yanked back into his own decade without his friends was not enjoyable.
Ron was on the bridge now. He was not walking, not moving a single muscle, yet he was moving across it. Ron did not know what power this bridge had, but it was pretty scary. Almost worse than spiders.
He past the plank reading 1980...the year he was born....he kept moving. Past 1985, past 1990, past 1995, 1996....and then it stopped. Right on 1997, exactly where he had come from.
Ron was on solid ground now. The bridge was gone. There was no trace of it, nothing at all. There was no fog, no odd pink cloud, nothing. Just Ron and the snow and the trees. But no Harry, and no Hermione. He was home, and they were stuck in 1976.
Would they get back? They had to. It may take a while, he thought, but they'll come home.
Right?
_______________________________________---____________________________________
Ooh, personally, I thought this was my favourite chapter. Hope you liked it as much as I did. So review it, okay, and tell me...
Bye for now,
*Lily~Pad*