Chapter Four
The most shocking thing about life at Hogwarts was how very normal it felt. I thought that my little "monthly problem" would cause complications, but it was more than manageable, outside of a few sleepy days. Every night of the full moon, I would meet Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, and she would escort me to the Shrieking Shack via a secret passage under the Whomping Willow.
It was all rather convoluted, but that seemed to simply be the way of things with Albus Dumbledore.
At the Shrieking Shack, I could go about my transformation in solitude, away from even the possibility of endangering anyone. My howls and other such wolfish noises were written off as the wails of particularly ill-tempered ghosts by the locals at Hogsmeade Village. Dumbledore doubtless endorsed such musings, perhaps even embellished a bit with his "storied knowledge" of all things magical.
More than that, outside of my time spent as a murderous quadruped, I was able to live the life of a rather normal schoolboy. I sat for lessons, turned in most of my homework on time, I was learning. And I had friends. I had three wonderful friends. They questioned sometimes, where I disappeared to during the nights of the full moon. I simply told them I had a mild form of insomnia and needed to spend some time in the Hospital Wing every once in a while. A thin excuse, but acceptable enough for three eleven-year-olds. I was honestly rather proud of myself for coming up with it.
They didn't press the matter, simply happy to have me as part of the group.
And I was more than happy to be part of it.
…
24 September, 1971
Hogwarts, Scotland
"The Torch Charm, also called the Wand-Lighting Charm, is one of the simplest spells you'll ever master, but also the one with the most utility, you'll likely find," the diminutive Professor Flitwick spoke in a high, squeaky voice. Perhaps waist-high to an adult at most, he was nonetheless a master of Charms magic and also apparently a feared duelist.
According to some of the older students, Flitwick had actually put on a display once, dueling one of the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professors as an end-of-term treat. The professor had lost soundly and promptly left the country in shame, rumor had it.
"Now, when casting this one, you must take care not to go waving your wand about while doing so," Flitwick went on. "An overly-enthusiastic casting can be just as dangerous as a mispronounced spell. Simply hold your wand aloft, thusly, and say lumos!"
"Oh, Sev, you've told me about this one!" Lily Evans whispered excitedly behind Remus. It was easy to see why James was so smitten; even the girl's voice had a pure sort of sweetness to it. It was hard not to smile along with her excitement at having even such a small bit of foreknowledge about the world she'd joined.
"Wow, he knew one whole spell," James grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Sirius, Sev knew an entire spell all on his own."
"We should bump him up to second year, we should," Sirius chuckled.
"I don't see you two actually casting the spell," Lily shot at the pair, and Remus snickered.
"She's got a point," he said, holding his wand up. "Lumos."
The tip of his wand flared with a bright light, and Professor Flitwick clapped his hands.
"Well done, Mr. Lupin!" he squeaked. "An excellent first go!"
"Good job, Remus," Lily said with a beaming smile. "You got that on your first try."
"I can do it too," Severus muttered. "Watch. Lumos."
His wand tip lit up as well, and Remus grinned at him.
"Not bad, Sev," he said. Severus rolled his eyes, though he looked pleased at the praise, at least. Next to Remus, Sirius scoffed, as though the praise to Severus was a personal affront to his honor.
"Doesn't look so hard," he said, holding his wand and giving it a flourishing wave. "Lumos!"
A jet of light shot out, faster than any of them could see, and collided with the side of Marlene's head, nearly sending her tumbling from her seat.
"Och! Fit's 'at aboot, yeh daftie!?" she glared about, spotting a sheepish Sirius with his wand held up. Staring daggers at him, she reached up to fix her hair, which seemed perpetually in danger of becoming a frazzled mess about her head. "Sirius Black!"
"Your accent is really cute," Sirius babbled, and Marlene blinked several times, her glare intensifying even as her face went a bit pink. When she spoke again, it was in lofty tones with a substantially thinner brogue.
"Yeh cannae expect to charm your way out of trouble every time yeh whip a spell at me, Sirius Black," she said.
"I'll take my chances," Sirius said. Marlene rolled her eyes, smirking before turning to chat with Mary.
"Were you even paying attention to Flitwick?" Remus asked the boy.
"Of course I wasn't," Sirius said with a flippant wave of his hand. "What'd he say?"
"It would probably be a good idea to actually pay attention to the lessons if you're going to bother showing up for them," Remus told him.
"Hey, I'm here to get away from my family," Sirius grinned. "Not learn."
"Consider an education the cost of being allowed to stay," Remus said. "Imagine if you flunk out, then you go home to Mummy after getting sorted into Gryffindor and tell her they expelled you anyway."
"…Right, good point," Sirius said with a horrorstruck look.
"At least there's one sensible one in this group," James said. "Shame we'll hardly ever listen to you."
"Real tragedy, that," Remus sighed.
"Lumos!" Peter said, and his wand flared to life right in his face, momentarily blinding him. "Oi! My eyes!"
"Make extra sure that you're holding your wands the correct way," Professor Flitwick said dryly.
"Pull yourself together, Pete," James said.
"Least you probably won't have to do that spell again," Sirius said. "You've likely blinded yourself."
…
At the very least, Charms was the last lesson of that Friday, a fact that was luckiest of all for Peter. Blinking and easing forward quite slowly, the poor boy was reduced to navigating the corridors with the giggled directions of Sirius and James, who seemed content to occasionally steer him directly into the path of a passing student. An occasionally sighing Remus gently course-corrected him…sometimes. It was rather entertaining to see him amble into Lily Evans and nearly send them both tumbling to the floor.
"Oh! Peter, what are you…?"
"Lily? 'Zat you? Sorry, I can't see so well."
"James Potter!" Lily shouted back, and James held his arms out in a shrug.
"How on Earth is this my fault?" he asked. "Must you always assume – "
"Yes, I must," Lily huffed, shoving a stumbling Peter back at the boy. "Because it always is your fault and you very well know it."
"I swear, they're like dogs, they just can't be in the same room together," Mary Macdonald sighed, and Remus chuckled.
"James just loves any attention he can get from her, I reckon," he said.
"Boys," Mary muttered with a shake of her head, pausing and glancing over at Remus. "No offense."
"It's a little offensive," Remus shrugged. "Though…I have to admit, Gryffindor boys…"
"Alright, we'll go with that," Mary nodded. "Present company sometimes excluded."
"You just can't stand, even for a second, not being the center of attention!" Lily said. "Even if it means making a total spectacle of yourself!"
"Oi, you can't fault me for wanting to give everyone a show," James said, and Sirius snickered.
"Seems like she's always front row to see it, too," he said.
"Because you lot won't leave me be!" Lily huffed.
"Perhaps we should separate them?" Sev's bored voice spoke from Remus's shoulder. "I doubt they'll end this on their own, and I'd like to be to the Great Hall before they stop serving dinner."
"You take the main stairs, I'll see if I can divert James via the Owlery," Remus said. "He has a letter to send home anyway."
"Look at us, being responsible handlers," Mary snickered, and Remus flashed her a smile before wading into the shouting match.
"C'mon, James," he said, taking his friend gently by the arm. "Hey, don't you need to post that letter to your mum?"
"…Oh, right," James grumbled. Ever the mother's boy, there was no surer way to grab his attention than to remind him he had to send his weekly letter home. Dubious no doubt at how anyone could feel such affection for his mother, Sirius trailed behind as the corridor now rang with a profound silence. Even the portraits were quiet, most of their occupants having left the two firsties to their argument.
"Uh, lads?" Peter said, now ambling in the boys' wake. "Are we off?"
"You hopeless boy," Sirius muttered, taking Peter's tie and dragging him along. "I'm off to the Hospital Wing with this one, see if Madame Pomfrey's got something for his eyes."
"Meet you at dinner!" Remus called after him. He glanced over, rolling his eyes but unable not to smile at the goofy grin on James's face. "What you smirking about?"
"Isn't she so pretty when she's all fired up?" James asked.
"Speaking of hopeless boys," Remus muttered to himself. "C'mon, we don't need your mum sending another howler asking how her Ickle Jamesy-Wamesy's doing."
…
"D'you lot reckon I ought to try out for the quidditch team?" James asked at dinner, apropos of seemingly nothing. Sirius snorted at the suggestion as he doled a heap of green beans onto his plate.
"Quidditch players are so full of themselves, though," he said, looking thoughtful. "Actually, you'd fit right in."
"First-years aren't allowed their own brooms," Remus reminded them while James flicked a spoonful of peas at Sirius. "Anyway, the Gryffindor team is full up this year, aren't they?"
"Flying sounds terrifying," Peter voiced. "Being that far off the ground on a stick? No thanks."
"Well, you'll have to get a taste of it sooner than later," Sirius told him. "Flying lessons on Monday, old boy."
"You ever flown, Sirius?" James asked through a mouthful of chicken.
"Few times," Sirius said. "Uncle Cygnus has a great big patch of land in Westcountry. I've a Comet 220 I take out sometimes."
"Nimbus 1500," James grinned. "Dad swears by Nimbus brooms. Owns stock in the company and everything."
"What about you, Remus?" Sirius asked.
"I hate flying," Remus said distastefully. He wasn't sure if it was a werewolf trait or his own simple fear of the sensation, but he absolutely hated his feet leaving the ground for any measurable time. "Sends me into a panic."
"That's unfortunate," James said. "Flying's a gas, really."
"I'll stay on the ground, thanks," Remus insisted. "You're the one with your head in the clouds."
"If that's not the truth," Sirius muttered, grinning at James. His face fell as his eyes landed on something down the table, and the other boys all looked to see two approaching blonde figures, an older boy and girl.
The girl was stunning. Not statuesque but not petite, she looked a bit like a marble statue of a young woman, flawless but cold. Even the smile she wore was utterly without humor, one of mocking disdain. Slightly behind her but obviously with her, the boy was handsome in a haughty way, with hair nearly as long as the girl's that framed his hawklike features.
Remus knew the girl was one of Sirius's cousins, Narcissa. The boy was obviously her betrothed or fiancé or whatever pureblood nonsense they'd come up with to complicate even a simple enough concept as marriage. What they were doing gracing the Gryffindor table with their presence was a mystery to all, including most of the Gryffindors themselves it seemed. More than a few scathing looks and mutterings followed the pair as they steadfastly ignored the chatter and approached the group of boys.
"Narcissa," Sirius said cordially. It always shocked Remus when he slipped into his "pureblood heir" speech patterns. Tone, inflection, word choice, it all changed with such abruptness that Remus wasn't entirely convinced he was swapping out with some doppelganger at the speed of light.
"Hello, Sirius," Narcissa said, and Remus was dismayed to realize that even her voice was clear and flawless, like a bell. What a waste. "How are you finding mingling with the lions?"
"They're good company," Sirius said, and Narcissa rolled her eyes while Lucius quietly snorted behind her.
"If you say so," she said. "You'd be in better company in Slytherin, you know. With your family. Everyone's rather put out with it. Wondering how it could have happened."
"Well, in a family called Black, it makes sense the black sheep turns out to be a Gryffindor, doesn't it?" Sirius said with a smirk, and James snickered next to him. Narcissa fixed the pair with a distasteful look, her nose curling as though their mere presence in her vicinity were the most revolting thing ever.
"You can make your jokes, but being sorted into Gryffindor makes everyone wonder what exactly it is about you that prompted such a decision by the Sorting Hat," she said briskly. "Your parents, your aunts and uncles, all of us."
"I bet Andromeda doesn't care," Sirius shot at her, and Narcissa's lip curled in disgust. Remus wondered how much of her face she could contort and what varying levels of dissatisfaction she was capable of expressing.
"You would do well not to give that blood-traitor another moment's consideration," Narcissa hissed. "Being in Gryffindor isn't as shameful as marrying mudblood scum, but it's not far from it, either."
"Oi, there's no call for that kind of language," James said. Narcissa ignored him completely.
"I'm only trying to help, cousin," she told Sirius.
"Oh, I appreciate the effort, but I'm quite beyond help," Sirius said loftily. "Thank you for your consideration, cousin."
Sneering, Narcissa simply flounced off, leaving a smirking Lucius to trail after her.
"I told you it was quite hopeless," he could be heard saying.
"I'll give him 'hopeless'," James muttered, and Remus shot him a warning look.
"He probably knows some nasty curses, and he's six years your senior," he said.
"Not like I'm actually going to do anything," James insisted. "Just fun to talk about, is all."
"Is your family going to kick you out?" Peter asked fearfully. Sirius snorted at that, rolling his eyes.
"I can only hope," he said. "Maybe Dumbledore'll let me bunk here over summer break. Then I wouldn't have to go back."
"You could grab a broom, sweep the place up," James suggested.
"Yeah, if I start when you lot go home, I should be about half done when you get back," Sirius snickered.
ooo
Halloween has a sort of reputation at Hogwarts, I've learnt. It seems like something always happens, some tragedy befalls the students or a mystery is unveiled to be solved in incremental steps throughout the year. And without fail, things always tend to wrap up nice and tidy before the last day of term.
Funny, that.
The Halloween of 1971, then—the first Halloween that saw the Marauders grace the school—was destined to be one for the books. See, we weren't there yet. We wouldn't be the Marauders—Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Quickclaw, and Prongs—for years. We needed to bond, and we needed to bond over the sort of close-call traumatic event you tell your kids about, your grandkids.
Normal friendships are wonderful, formed from mutual respect and all that. But a true bond of brotherhood needs something a bit more perilous.
Especially when you're Severus Snape and just as likely to sulk as to actually attempt to socialize.
And so, on Halloween, the Marauders got their first taste of peril.
…
31 October, 1971
Hogwarts, Scotland
Only on very few occasions did James actually play the "son of a rich businessman" card in any more capacity than was necessary to get perhaps a stack of new comic books or a fancy new wireless with muggle eight-track compatibility. Such things were trifles to Dad, who was only too happy to fill the void left by his work-related absences with gifts and other such spoils for his only son.
James wasn't particularly put-out by his parents' sometimes-excessive office hours, but he was happy to reap the benefits of their guilt over it, after all.
Against his better judgment, however, he actually had recently attempted to lean a bit more heavily on his father's propensity to throw money at problems. Reading the most recent letter from home, it sadly seemed Dad didn't quite agree with James's definition of what constituted a problem for the Potter family.
"You actually tried to get your dad to bribe you onto the quidditch team?" Remus asked, his voice somewhere between amused and disgusted.
"That's something I would do," Sirius chuckled. "Classic Slytherin pureblood rich-boy maneuvering."
"I did not ask him to bribe anyone," James huffed, his cheeks reddening as he stuffed the letter into his pocket. "All I did was…lament that I wasn't on the team and wondered if he had any suggestions."
"What did he say?" Peter asked.
"Told me the best way to get on a team is earning your way in, not buying it," James said. "You know, they say 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.'"
"That smarts extra, doesn't it?" Remus smirked.
"It loses the sting after you hear it about twenty times a day," Sirius said blandly.
"I don't think you're a disappointment," Remus said, and Sirius grinned at him.
"Well, most of my family would call you mad to say so," he told him.
"Most of your family are mad inbreeds," Remus said. "No offense."
"The truth hurts sometimes," Sirius shrugged.
The quartet emerged onto the third-floor landing, making a right toward the Great Hall; the Halloween feast was nearly starting, and there was no way the four were missing out on the festivities. As they neared the stairs, quiet footsteps echoed from the corridor ahead, a singular figure emerging from around a corner.
"Hey, Sev!" Sirius said.
"Good evening," Severus said in polite tones as he neared them. A few stray feathers adorned his shoulders and robes; most likely, he'd just come from the Owlery.
"Off to the feast?" Sirius asked.
"…Obviously," Severus said.
"Oi, don't be so sour," Sirius said jovially. "C'mon, let's get at some candy, eh?"
"What's your favorite candy, Severus?" Remus asked as they made their way downstairs.
"I like Liquorice Wands," Severus told him.
"I only really like the blue ones of those," James said. "My favorite is Cauldron Cakes."
"Those always confused me," Peter said. "They aren't shaped like cauldrons."
"They're called that because they're made in cauldrons," Severus said. "Cauldron cakes are based off a recipe from the Great Depression."
"I thought that was just a muggle thing," Sirius said. "Mum always said…oh…"
"Most pureblood families weren't greatly affected by it because they had vaults of gold to fall back on," Severus said. "And they simply ignored the impact it had on commoners because doing otherwise would have meant actually giving up some of that gold."
"Yeah, purebloods are pretty terrible, aren't they?" Sirius said blithely as they reached the second floor.
"Tell me about it," a new voice spoke. They had made the right that would take them to the next staircase, though they found in their path a hooded figure, standing directly in the middle of the corridor. He was taller than the five boys by about a head. Not fully grown, though well on his way. He wore a black hooded cloak and from the small bit underneath that James could see, a finely-tailored suit to match.
"You got a costume on?" James asked with a grin. "You look like you're going to a funeral."
"Maybe I am," the older boy said, reaching up to push back his hood. His head was shorn nearly to the skin, with only a stubble of black hair over it. His eyes, James noted, were a vivid, poisonous green, and a lightning-shaped scar stretched from the left side of his forehead over his left eye, bisecting his eyebrow.
"He's acting dodgy, I must say," Sirius muttered.
"Careful about this one, lads," James agreed. The boy cackled at that, a high and manic laugh that echoed a bit off the stone walls.
"Aren't the four of you just precious?" he said, his eyes darting among the group before zeroing in on something over James's shoulder. "But…there's a fifth, isn't there? One that doesn't quite belong. Severus Snape, a Gryffindor. That's a new one."
"Alright, what are you, some sneaky Slytherin lost on the way to the feast?" James asked. "Why are you harassing us?"
"Oh, I plan to do considerably more than harass you," the boy said, his lips stretching in a rictus grin that showed too much teeth. "In thirteen or so years, there'll be a muggle movie that comes out, called The Terminator. I encourage you all to watch it, it'll make all of this so much more clear."
He whipped his wand at them, and next to James, Severus gave a yelp as he shot forward. James reached out and grabbed the boy around the middle, feeling himself yanked along as well before Sirius latched onto him. The four boys formed a chain as an increasingly strained Severus shouted out a wordless call of distress.
"Inspiring!" the boy said. "This is most definitely a different strand."
"Ex…expelliarmus!" Remus shouted, and the four suddenly fell back with Severus in tow as the boy's wand shot from his hand. They landed in a heap, and Remus was the first to recover, scrambling to his feet and dragging Severus along. "Go, go, go!"
"Time to scarper, lads!" James agreed. He reached out for Sirius, the two climbing up and hauling Peter to his feet by his arms. Together, they shot off along the corridor, skipping past the stairs and fleeing along in the direction of the library.
"Tapestry of Ingrid the Owl Keeper," Sirius huffed as they ran. "Secret passage behind her."
They neared the tapestry in question, which depicted a broad-shouldered woman surrounded by a colorful assortment of owls. The birds scattered with a rustle of feathers as James whipped it aside. Standing back, he allowed the others to go through, looking back to see their pursuer doggedly…pursuing them.
"Severuuus!" he called out in manic tones. "Where ya going, little buddy!?"
"This one's mad," James said as he climbed through the tapestry.
They wove through a winding tunnel that felt like it was sloping ever upward, eventually finding themselves up on the fourth floor and spilling out into one of the more neglected parts of the castle. A wall of windows let in the last pink glow of dusk, and James had scant seconds to appreciate the picturesque view before remembering that they were in a flight for their lives.
"What's he want with you?" Sirius asked Severus, whose eyes were wide.
"I've no idea!" he said. "I've never seen him before in my life!"
"He was talking about the future," Remus said as they set off around a corner. "Did you hear?"
"A movie," Peter said. "In thirteen years."
"You think he's from the future?" James asked.
"Doubtful," Severus said. "Time travel magic is theoretical at best."
"But maybe it won't be," Remus said.
"So this bloke comes from the future just to go after Sev?" Sirius asked. "Why?"
"That is an excellent question," a horribly familiar voice said ahead of them, and they skidded to a halt to see the older boy leaning casually against the wall. He fixed them with a grin, standing and striding casually toward them. "Did you know, not all of those secret passages are actually shortcuts? Ingrid the Owl Keeper just didn't like interacting with people, so she used that passage to avoid using the stairs. Who could blame her, am I right?"
"You leave Sev alone!" James shouted at the boy, putting an arm out to push Severus back into the circle of boys. "What's he done to you?"
"When the concept of time travel is brought up," the boy said, stopping near them and starting to slowly pace left to right like a prowling animal, "the discussion always turns to one direction. What's the first thing you do with time travel, well, you go back and kill Adolf Hitler, don't you? That's the right answer, innit? How far do you go back, though? How do you do it? Go back and off him as a baby in his crib? Make it look like he was one of many casualties in the First World War? Not a good idea to do it once he's hit his stride, because then you get some other idiot taking over the machine he's already built. Gotta do it early, you know?"
"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Sirius asked, and the boy let a breathy laugh that morphed into a strained cackle.
"I'm talking about my personal Adolf," he said. "The man responsible for it all. And I'm talking about going back and watching him snivel and cower and just…be a scared little boy, and drinking that up. Don't you lads worry. It's all in the name of tidying things up, after all."
He raised his wand, but just as he was aiming a spell, his hand whipped up to parry one instead. Wild eyes tore themselves from Severus and stared down the hallway. If possible, the boy's grin drew even wider.
"Could that possibly be…?"
"In the flesh," Professor Molotov said, smirking wryly as he strode past the boys. "How the tables have turned, haven't they, Harry?"
"Turning tables is old hat," the boy called Harry said. "Grab it, I say. Flip the whole thing."
"Scatter the pieces?" Molotov asked.
"Exactly!" Harry shouted. "C'mon, you of all people should see the merits of changing a few things here and there."
"You would only cause more branches, boy," Molotov said. "You're already straining causality by being here. You know the cost of overcorrection. Just go back where you came from, fix things there."
"Don't you think I've tried?" Harry asked. His manic energy dropped for a moment, and underneath James saw a depth of what he realized was sadness, a despondence bordering on desperation. "This… Stopping things at the source, stopping it all from going so badly, this is the way that's best."
"Sound in principle, but you're new to this whole thing, aren't you?" Professor Molotov said. "This isn't your Severus Snape. He's already deviated. Heavily."
"Oh, and you've been to check, have you?" Harry asked.
"Observer Effect, isn't it?" Professor Molotov spoke thoughtfully. "Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. Either way, this definitely isn't your timeline now that you've mucked it up."
"Then maybe I'll just stay a while," Harry said, regaining his grinning bravado. "Watch my work unfold into something beautiful."
"You following any of this?" Sirius whispered to James.
"Not a lick of it," James said.
"Sh," Severus hissed.
"I'm afraid you'll only be watching a cell in the Department of Special Containment," Professor Molotov said. "They don't take kindly to stomping around timelines that aren't your own."
"And what does that mean you're doing?" Harry asked.
"Stopping you," Professor Molotov spoke. He flicked his wand at Harry, who again parried the spell with a grin.
"I've had a great deal of free time to practice my spellwork," he said. "Even you'll find me a bit difficult."
"Oh, I doubt that," Professor Molotov chuckled. "Kids like you love to think they're – "
Suddenly, a pitch blackness erupted in the corridor, so abrupt that James actually jumped. Professor Molotov swore in a low mutter, and James felt him moving frantically about in front of them. Severus was still there, breathing ragged and nervous behind him, so that was a small comfort.
"Lads, sound off?" James called.
"Still here," Remus said.
"On your right," Sirius said.
"I'm here!" Peter squeaked.
"Here," Severus spoke in a shaking voice.
The darkness hung for several long seconds, and James could hear Molotov ahead of them trying a few spells to dissipate it. He seemed to be having little luck.
"What is this stuff?" James asked.
"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder," the professor said. "Hard to import in our time, but easier in the next couple decades."
"So…he wasn't lying?" Remus asked. "That boy was from the future?"
"…Come to my office," Molotov said once the powder had cleared enough for them to see through the gloom. "All of you."
…
Professor Molotov sat them all around a low table in his office, which more resembled one of Dad's smoke lounges than anything. Serving them all a cup of tea, he heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair.
"Alright, let's keep this brief, eh?" he said, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. "You lot haven't been to the feast yet, and I'll not be responsible for you missing your first Halloween at Hogwarts."
"Who was that – " James started, but the professor held up a hand.
"There are particulars you can't be privy to, of course," he said, "owing to both the classified nature of it all and the fact that you lot are preteens."
"Was that boy really from the future?" Remus asked.
"…Currently, this point in time is one of many being investigated for…incursions," Molotov said.
"By the Department of Special Containment?" Severus asked. Molotov peered at the boy searchingly, clearly displeased he'd remembered the professor mentioning that.
"Yes," he said. "A department whose existence is very highly classified. You would do well not to bring that up in front of anyone else unless you wish to be Obliviated."
"Why haven't you done that already?" Severus asked. "Why talk to us instead of just fixing it so we don't remember what happened?"
"Because that little scuffle was what's called a Deviation Point," Molotov said. "If I Obliviate you lot, a lot of course changes get undone, and that can cause a timequake."
"What – "
"Unimportant," Molotov told him with a dismissive gesture. "It's important to the flow of time that you five continue along your way and don't go sticking your noses in where they ought not be. This is all under control and being handled by qualified personnel. Dumbledore knows what's happening and has given me carte blanche to see to it that the proper avenues are taken in resolving it."
"So, that's that?" James asked, his teacup untouched. "Severus gets attacked by some…time-traveling madman, and we're meant to just shrug it off and go back to life?"
"That's how it goes at Hogwarts, believe me," Molotov chuckled. "Perils will happen sometimes, and you just trust your professors to handle it."
"But who was that – "
"As I said, there are some things you're best left not knowing for the moment," Molotov said. "You go digging into the future too much, you cause a time paradox."
"A what then?" Sirius asked.
"Time paradox," Severus said, staring down into his reflection in the teacup in front of him. "Someone learns about his future and that affects his future because now he knows what it is, so that future might no longer come to be, and then – "
"Alright, just hearing about it is confusing," Sirius said with a wave of his hand.
"So what do we do now?" Peter asked fearfully.
"Trust your professors," Molotov repeated. "Let me know if you see anything odd, and if that boy shows up again, you do exactly what you did tonight."
"Run scared and keep him from getting Sev?" James asked.
"Precisely," Molotov said.
"Why's he after Sev so badly?" Sirius asked, glancing over at Severus. "He really didn't seem fond of him."
"I think that falls under the umbrella of 'things we're best left now knowing'," Remus said.
"There's time paradoxes to worry about, you see," James added.
"Of course, how silly of me," Sirius muttered.
"Hey, you're catching on quickly," Molotov said with a chuckle. "Go on, finish up your tea and get down to dinner. Eat some good food, get some rest, put this out of your head. It's being handled."
"That's comforting," Sirius said lowly into James's ear.
…
Walking into the Great Hall after such a tense confrontation upstairs was a strange feeling for James. They had just been on the run for their lives, pursued through the halls of the castle spoken of as "the safest place there is" by a time-traveling headcase. And now, they were sitting down for roast ham and mashed potatoes—scarfing it, actually, as James realized how ravenous he was after the ordeal. Sirius was next to him, and Peter and Remus were across the table as usual. Joining them, though, was Severus, who had seated himself quietly on James's other side.
"Alright, Sev?" James asked, and Severus peered over at him from under his curtain of hair.
"Thank you," he said, his voice almost contrite. "For…saving me."
"Oh, don't mention it," James said. "Wouldn't've been right, just letting him at you, after all."
"Not very sporting," Sirius agreed.
"You…actually saved my life, though," Severus went on, as though believing that James simply hadn't understood the stakes. "When you grabbed onto me like that."
"That's what you do, innit?" James said. "Someone's in danger, you help them."
It was such a simple concept to James, and yet Severus was looking at him as though he'd suddenly started speaking in gibberish. But that was what you did, what Dad had insisted growing up. If you could help someone, you did, plain and simple.
Maybe James didn't always exemplify such a belief, but he was eleven years old, after all.
"You're our friend, Sev," Remus said. "Friends look out for each other."
"And stop time-traveling nutters from offing each other," Sirius added.
"Absolutely, that's one of my favorite friend activities," James said with a grin.
"Nearly every weekend, that's the first thing on the schedule," Sirius said. James snickered at him, snagging up a handful of chocolates from a nearby tray and passing some to his friends. With the whole debacle behind them and have been soundly survived, it was a lot easier to reflect on it all as some grand adventure than continue to fret about whatever mysterious agenda the boy Harry had been pursuing. Severus was alive thanks in no small part to their assistance, and it was high time for some revels, really.
"But what if that boy comes back?" Peter asked, his watery eyes wide as he managed to get gravy all over his face with a mouthful of potatoes.
"Then we'll scamper off and Professor Molotov'll give him what-for," James said. "Wipe your face, you animal."
"You're meant to eat the food, not wear it," Severus added in a drawl. James chuckled at that, slapping Sev on the back.
"Good one," he said. "Gravy's not part of the school uniform, Pete."
While a blushing Peter wiped his face with a napkin, James and Sirius burst into laughter, which Remus soon joined. Severus managed a small smile, though he quickly hid it behind the rim of a goblet of pumpkin juice.
It was a start, at least.