Believe in Yesterday
Potter47
Part One
Old Friends
"'Tis all a Checkerboard of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays."
Omar Khayyam (Edward FitzGerald trans.)
Chapter Seven
Once a Pawn in Time
Harry sat down on the couch, his leg still a bit numb. Ginny sat next to him, rubbing her arm. This rubbing was rather like the "phantom limb" syndrome, in which a person who has lost a leg, or an arm, or a toothbrush, still imagine that they can feel their toes, fingers, or bristles. Of course, Ginny did still have her arm, so it was more like "phantom pain" syndrome, where a person still feels pain after the pain has receded.
"You know," said Ginny, trying to make herself comfortable on the squishy couch, "it almost feels as though it still hurts, even though the pain has receded."
"Yeah," said Harry. "And my leg still feels a bit numb."
They sat in silence once again. Why is it so hard to talk to Ginny? I love Ginny. I should be able to--
Ginny's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "So, Harry," she said carefully. "How are you doing?"
"I'm..." Harry began, but he realised he didn't know exactly how he was doing. "I'm not exactly happy, but that's to be expected, isn't it? With the Dementors, and the prophecy and everything..."
"But Harry," said Ginny, moving a little closer to him on the couch, "what about everything good? Things could be a lot worse, couldn't they? I mean, if something had gone wrong last June? In the Riddle House, what if Voldemort had killed one of us? What if Luna hadn't been able to...do what she did? And back in nineteen-forty-five, what if Riddle had killed you or me?" She swallowed. "Or even back at the Ministry. What if the Death Eaters had done something terrible?"
And these words brought to him a thought that he had not thought, and left unthunk for a very long time.
"Have you heard anything from Sirius?" he asked suddenly. So suddenly, in fact, that Ginny jumped back a bit at the suddenness.
"What? Sirius? Why would Sirius write to me?"
"Because," said Harry. "He hasn't been writing to me. I just realised it now. I'd been... blocking everything out, I guess. I haven't seen or heard anything from him since King's Cross."
"Well, neither have I," said Ginny, beginning to get a bit worried. "You don't think something's happened to him, do you?"
"I don't know," said Harry, shaking his head. "It seems... as if something had been keeping me from thinking of him. Something inside my head, that's just now gone away..." He shook his head once again, decisively. "And now I'm spouting off nonsense."
"Why don't you owl him?" suggested Ginny. "An answer shouldn't take to long... Grimmauld Place isn't all that far from here--"
"No," said Harry. "In Dumbledore's letter, he seemed a bit nervous about headquarters. I'm not sure it's secure right now. I don't want to risk giving everything away."
The two sat silently, thinking.
"The last time I saw him," said Ginny, "well, really saw him, that is, not just Snuffles." Snuffles, you see, had caught on with the Order as a nickname for Sirius' dog form. Not just for in situations that needed secrecy, but just in general. It got a bit annoying sometimes, actually; especially Snape, who's face was so mocking whenever he uttered the word that it nearly drove most members insane (especially the dog in question). "The last time I saw him was at Christmas. When he was so happy...but you saw him after that, of course. Through the fire."
Christmas..., Harry thought. Something happened at Christmas...
And Harry was not simply having a case of memory block, forgetting that gifts were unwrapped and 'Happy Christmases' exchanged at Christmas. He was thinking on a much more specific scale, of one time in particular.
He looked at Ginny, who's face looked back at him worriedly. The coach was so old and squishy that Harry's seat was down several inches from where Ginny was. His eyes were right at the same level as hers were. He could see his own green orbs reflecting in her bright brown ones...
Reflecting...
Mirror...
Suddenly, once again making Ginny jump slightly from the suddenness of it, Harry was off the sinking couch and storming up the stairs.
"Where on Earth are you going, Harry?" Ginny called after him.
He did not answer.
Ron and Luna entered the living room, and the latter set Chessy down on the coffee table.
"I'm white," said Luna, unfolding the chessboard within Chessy. She began to put the white pieces in their proper places.
"I'm not complaining," said Ron, recalling the White Queen. He didn't fancy trying to tell her what to do.
"Remember, Chessy: you don't need to give us any hints. We're plenty old enough to play on our own," said Luna.
"Yes, yes, I know," said Chessy dejectedly. "I don't have to be happy about it though," she added.
"Of course you don't," said Luna pleasantly. She reached over and placed Ron's king on the fourth square from the left -- white, of course. Queen's always on her colour. King has to deal with it.
The board was, eventually, set up. Luna, being white, went first. "Queen-side knight, c-three."
And so the game began.
Ron, of course, was quite used to making quick work of competition in chess. He could play Harry four or five times in an hour some times. He had anticipated the same now. Sadly -- for him, at least -- this was just another effect of spending such a long time without Luna. He had forgotten just how good she was at chess.
I haven't really forgotten he reasoned mentally, I just haven't been thinking of it.
Luna's knight was on g-five. He might just be able to... "Pawn to e-six," said Ron.
Come on, come on, come on...knight to e-six...I want that knight... For, you see, if Luna moved her knight to e-six, Ron could easily capture it with his queen-side bishop. He just hoped she didn't see that.
"Knight to..." Come on... "...b-five."
NO.
And the game continued much like this. Luna never seemed to fall into his traps, like Harry and Hermione and Ginny and Fred and George and Percy and just about everyone else he'd ever played, did. Just like always. Sadly -- for him at least.
And the worst part about it -- for Ron at least -- was that Luna didn't even seem to be trying. She was just moving, never taking more than five seconds. It was destroying his game.
"Queen to h-four," said Ron. Then, triumphantly, "Check!"
Ron glanced over at Chessy -- the box, at least -- and was surprised to find her face screwed up worriedly. Must be scared for Luna, Ron thought.
Ron looked back up at Luna, and saw her glance flick down to the board quickly. "Bishop to h-four," she said. Her face quirked into a grin. "Not check," she said.
Disbelieving, Ron watched as his queen was dragged from the board. "That's not possible--" he said. But of course, it was possible. It was, in fact, fact.
"Your move," said Luna, as if nothing had happened.
In shock, Ron looked down at the board. If his queen was gone, he'd have to use his rook. He hated having to bring out the rooks. She's going to pay, he thought.
Sadly -- for him at least -- she did not pay. The loss of his queen was just the tip of the iceberg; just the beginning of a downward spiral that would end thusly:
"King to b-seven," said Ron, distraught. He had lost nearly everything. He had three pawns left, and a single knight. Luna had one of her rooks in its original place -- a-one -- and the other in the opposite square -- h-eight. Her queen was on f-six, and he was afraid she was going to--
"Pawn to b-six," said Luna. The little guy tip-toed to his new, black square -- he was quite terrified that he was being sacrificed, as he usually was. Looking around, however, a look of glee came over his little painted features.
"You've done it, Queen Luna!" he shouted, earning a cross look from the White Queen. His voice had never been very strong, so he needed to shout to be heard at all.
"Oh, right," said Luna. "I forgot to say 'checkmate.'"
It was a fitting end, for Ron. In the very worst game of his life, he was to be checkmated by a pawn. He had most definitely never lost to a pawn before. Even back when he used to play Luna. Never.
"Good game," said Ron weakly.
"You as well," said Luna pleasantly.
"Can I talk now?" asked Chessy impatiently. "You have no idea how hard it is, to keep quiet during a game of chess. Well, I suppose you do for you, but I'm a chessboard! I'm supposed to talk during chess games--"
"Actually, Chessy," interrupted a cheerful voice from the doorway, "Muggle chessboards don't talk at all. I had one when I was little, and it was silenter than an empty cauldron--"
"Not again!" said Chessy exasperatedly. "Where'd you come from? I thought you were gone--"
"You surely didn't expect me to stay out all night, did you?"
"A board can dream!" She looked at Luna pleadingly. "Would you mind terribly to just put all my pieces back in my belly and put me somewhere safe?"
"Of course Chessy," said Luna, and began to gather the pieces once again. The White Queen made a run for the edge of the table, but it was futile. Luna picked up Chessy, sure not to spill anything out of her broken back, and carried it up to her room.
Mr Lovegood looked at Ron, confuzzled. "Have I said something?"
Luna pushed open the door. She saw the plaque, which read "Luna's Room" but didn't really pay it much mind. It was, of course, something she saw everyday.
She sat, or perhaps placed Chessy on the nightstand, so that if by any chance a wind was to blow inside of the room, she would simply fall on the bed.
"Thank you, my Queen," said Chessy gratefully.
"Any time," said Luna. She made as if to back out the door, but paused, looking round the room. The bedspread was deep blue, the nightstand was tarnished yellow, and its tablecloth was purple with white polka-dots. She liked her room. She hadn't changed it for...a year, actually. And then she only had replaced the tablecloth, which had been green.
She shook her head; Why am I thinking about purple polka-dotted table cloths? Ronald is here!
Once again, she made to leave, and return to the downstairs. This time, however, once she had securely shut the door, she looked over the hallway. Yellow pinstriped walls, thick orange round carpet over hardwood floor. A wooden, old-fashioned desk, tucked into a small alcove.
But she was not interested in these things.
What intrigued her was a chair. It was deep, royal blue, and looked very, very comfortable. But this was not unique; there were comfortable chairs all over the house. The thing that made this chair unique was the fact that it had not been there, in the hallway with the yellow pinstriped walls and thick orange round carpet and hardwood floor, only a moment before.
She had seen this chair earlier, up in the attic, but it had not looked nearly as comfortable then. It had been covered with boxes and bins, spoiling its majestic look. Now it was as good as new, if not slightly weathered by peoples' bottoms sitting on it. Though no-one had sat on this chair in quite a while.
It was her mother's chair. The chair that Cynthia Lovegood had had in front of her mirror. No, not her make-up mirror; Cynthia Lovegood didn't tend to wear make up. But her mirror, the mirror that Luna had always identified as Mum's.
The chair had been moved after Luna's mum's death. She never knew why. It just never was in the hallway anymore, behind the desk, in the little alcove. She never asked her father about it. It hadn't seemed important.
This chair was not here a moment ago, thought Luna. And no-one's here to move it... It must have moved itself, she reasoned.
But, as you and I know, chairs do not move themselves, unless they have a very good reason, such as avoiding the sharp claws of a feline. But there were no cats in the Lovegood house. London was allergic.
Not really knowing what she was doing, Luna walked over, and sat on the chair. Nothing seemed different... There were the yellow pinstriped walls, and the thick orange round carpet on the hardwood floor. There was the desk, right in front of Luna. There was the mighty-looking stained-glass window at the end of the great hall.
"Queen Luna!" came the familiar voice of Harpia. She sounded rather panicked, as if something terrible had happened.
"What is it?" said the Queen worriedly, sitting up straight in her throne.
"Thank the celestial bodies you're awake...," said Harpia, landing with her claws perched on the perch next to Luna's throne. "You've been sleeping for ages. Logica-Land is not safe. Things have been set in motion that we have worked against for lilisks and lilisks. The Envelope of Oblivion is closing in. It should arrive within the week. We must do something!"
"WHAT?" cried Luna. "Well, why didn't you wake me up?"
"You wouldn't wake! We tried! I hope you'll forgive that little scar you have on your arm. I tried to prod you awake with my claw, but..."
"That doesn't matter," said the Queen.
"But that isn't the worst of it," said Harpia hesitantly. "King Ronald is missing."
Missing.
"What? How?" demanded the Queen. "When?"
"He was on an expedition, with the Explorers," said Harpia. "They came back, but he didn't. We don't know what happened."
"Is that everything?"
"Well, no..."
"Then what else?" said Luna exasperatedly.
"If the Envelope succeeds, and its followers rule...everything good we have done in the world will be undone."
"Yes, of course it would. They are evil, and it is only logical that they would destroy the good in the world..."
"That's not what I mean," said Harpia. "I mean that everything good will be undone. Truly. So that it had never happened in the first place."
Luna swallowed, realising just how imperative it was that the Envelope be defeated.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she said. "We must find Ronald."
Sorry for the short chapter. The next couple will be much longer. I've decided to extend last chapter's contest until the posting of chapter eight, which will be in five days' time, on 23 July. I'll even lend a hand. To be a bit more specific, I'll be a bit more specific on what "pop culture" constitutes-- lines. There are four lines within the chapter, that I believe are unique to four different television sources. Two are from commercials, two from shows. If that's not specific enough, I don't know what is. Also, a reviewer named Lizzy (I can't remember the numbers that followed) got three correct. I plan on sending the wallpaper and advance chapter of "Half Blood Prince" as soon as possible. But remember, Lizzy, that if you submit a fourth correct answer, you will still get the hint as to what is coming in the future of the Yesterday Sequence. Also, new chapters should be out on a regular basis for a while. I've kind of hit a part that just flows. Be sure to review. Now. Seriously, even if you read this months from its posting, and the contest is over, and the next chapter is already up, review as soon as you finish reading this author's note. To be more specific…NOW! Please?
Next Chapter
Shattered
"When one does not know what it is, then it is something;
But when one knows what it is, it is nothing."
Coming Soon