Disclaimer: see prologue.

Chapter Five: "Forgotten"

September 25, 1996-

Kali made her way, weaving in and out of groups of students chattering happily about today's Hogsmeade visit, to the library. Elita constantly poked fun at her, saying that if the Apocalypse were upon them Kali would retreat to the library for solace. Of course Kali hadn't told her this, but Elita was probably right. She smiled to herself.

Three and a half weeks had passed since the Rollins sisters had been sent to the past. Kali wondered often what her friends—and Shane—thought of their disappearance. Were they worried? Were they scared? What had Dumbledore told the school—if anything?

Kali attempted to distract herself from these grave thoughts by wondering if Raleigh had yet to ask out Ron. Elita thought it was odd, helping the man they knew would betray them, but Kali thought they didn't have much of a choice. If Raleigh and Ron didn't get together Ste and Brynn wouldn't be born! And they certainly wanted their friends to be born, no matter if their father was a traitor.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING!" A very angry voice yelled from behind her.

Kali spun around and realized that Ron was talking to—more appropriately, screaming at—her. "Well, hello to you too," she replied coolly.

"So," he said, wild-eyed, clearly beyond reason. Kali could already tell this was not going to be a too terribly wonderful experience. "I've known you for not even a month and you decide to take it upon yourself to tell a complete STRANGER that I fancy her, which is a lie, considering she's a complete STRANGER and I've never even had a single conversation with her, not one! Unless, of course, you count her telling me about how you said I fancy her and then her asking me out, leaving me looking like a complete idiot! And you told her that I talk about her all the time!" Kali winced; she hadn't expected Raleigh to be so forthright with Ron. "Are you mental or something?" he continued. "Or is your head just shoved so far up your arse that you can't think straight?"

She took in a sharp breath and clenched her fists at her sides so that her long fingernails were digging painfully into her palms. All right Kali, she told herself. Calm down. He's angry, that's what you expected. With all her energy focused on not losing her temper, she replied calmly, "She's quite taken with you, Ron. I was only doing the both of you a favor. She was too nervous to ask you out without a little… encouragement."

Ron was so angry that he seemed at an utter loss for words. Kali didn't understand why he was so mad; Raleigh was nice and fairly pretty. Why wouldn't he want to give her a chance? Unless…

"Ron?" She asked warily. "Do you fancy someone else? Is that why you're so angry with me for trying to set you up with Raleigh?"

"WHAT? Of—of course not! It—it's just the just the principle of the thing!" he insisted. He concentrated fixedly on his feet.

"You do!" Kali's lips curled into a devilish smile as she realized just what was going on—it was just as Elita had predicted, "And I bet it's Hermione!" Kali proclaimed.

"Of course not! That's ridiculous!" Ron retorted a little too quickly. Kali couldn't fail to notice that his ears had turned a deep crimson hue.

She smiled and chuckled. "That's what I suspected," her voice grew quieter and she sighed. "Listen, Ron… I know this sounds harsh, and I know it's none of my business… but I think you should give Raleigh a shot."

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUISNESS!" he bellowed. Several students turned around to look at him, but he didn't seem to notice. He stormed off down the corridor without giving Kali a backward glance.

She shrugged. She knew he would come around eventually.


Elita sank deeply into a crimson armchair in the Gryffindor common room. She rubbed her temples. She had to write a three-foot-long essay for Potions class. She found that Snape was as mean in the past as he was in her own time. She had had the false hope that his bitterness had come with age. She had been wrong. It certainly came in handy that she was talented in the Potions field. And the curriculum was basically the same as it was in her own time; apparently there weren't going to be many new discoveries in Potions in twenty-five years.

She was alone in the common room. It was a the second Hogsmeade weekend of the year (the first she and her sister had received their books and other supplies), and considering her father and mother were currently her age and Muggles living hundreds of miles away, it would be something of a challenge to get the permission slip signed. It was a beautiful, warm day, probably one of the last warm days of the year; winter was approaching rapidly. The first and second years were all out running around on the grounds, and Ron and Hermione—the only students older than twelve currently in the castle besides Kali and Elita—were patrolling the halls on prefect duty. Elita smiled as she recalled Ron's furious reaction when he found out that he was assigned duty today. But he was consoled slightly with Harry's promises of bringing him plenty of sweets back from Honeyduke's.

She rummaged through her bag, the only thing that she and her sister had had between them when they were taken to the past, looking for her Potions textbook and a quill, but she was distracted by a plain, Muggle-looking notebook. Odd, she thought to herself. She hadn't remembered putting that in there… in fact, she didn't remember that notebook at all. She extracted the notebook from her bag, and even more surprisingly, on the front cover in her own handwriting were the words: "Give to Harry, Ron, or Hermione."

"Huh," she said contemplatively. "Why would I want to give a Muggle notebook to Harry, Ron or Hermione?" she murmured. "I think my short-term memory problem is steadily growing worse…" But somehow, despite her memory of a goldfish, she thought she would be able to recall writing something like that…

She flipped through the notebook nervously, but within it were only blank, clean, college-ruled pages, not unlike what she'd used to write on in primary school. She dimly recalled Kris's telling of when Ginny Weasley, Ste's aunt, had been possessed by Voldemort to do his bidding through a blank diary that talked back to her when she wrote in it. But that didn't explain why Elita's handwriting was on the cover of this notebook. And who would attempt a stunt like that anyway? If she did give the notebook to one of the trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione weren't stupid enough to fall for something like the old "Hello, my name's Tom and I'm your friend" bit again. Who could possibly be dim-witted enough to attempt a stunt like that? But still, she had to check…

She fumbled for her quill and ink bottle. She dipped the quill in jet black ink and cautiously lowered it to the first page. With a slightly shaking hand she wrote, "Hello, my name's Elita. Can anyone read this?" She waited for several minutes, and when absolutely nothing happened she felt rather foolish. It was just a silly notebook she had put in her bag and forgotten! She was known to be rather forgetful. But those words—"Give this to Harry, Ron, or Hermione"… She would think she'd remember something like that…

Maybe it did have something to do with the Dark Arts… there had to be some way to forge someone's handwriting in the Wizarding World. But still… a blank Muggle notebook that obviously didn't contain Tom Riddle's memory seemed rather harmless to her. It could've been Kali playing a joke on her, a weird joke albeit, but Kali wasn't really known for her keen sense of humor. No, joke-playing was Elita's role in the family, Kali had always thought it childish. Elita mentally ruled out her sister—this notebook had found itself in her possession by other means.

She flipped through the pages once more, but this time a small piece of parchment—regular Wizarding parchment—fell out of it. She eyed it suspiciously. There was something else written, in her own handwriting once again, but this time it was messy, as if she had written it in a great hurry. And these words were even more surprising and confusing than the words on the notebook had been. They read, "Singulus Alius: time travel incantation. Possible users: the person willing to travel thorough time or the person willing to send/summon them. Requires great skills of concentration and an advanced state of mind. Less dangerous if performed by a Legimens."

That was odd. Very odd. She certainly didn't remember writing that. She had never seen a spell used for time travel, and if she had, she felt certain—even with her infamous short-term memory—that she would be able to recall it. She felt tempted to try the incantation, but what if someone was using it to get to her? What if it was some kind of evil curse? There were so many questions swarming around in Elita's mind. She neatly folded the piece of parchment and placed it in one of her robe pockets for safekeeping.

This was certainly turning out to be interesting. What if that spell was how Elita traveled through time? What if Kali was right, she was being manipulated by someone evil—possibly even Voldemort himself? She shuddered at the gruesome thought. She looked down at the notebook. Somehow, it gave off some sort of aura. Somehow, she believed it wasn't evil…

Her reverie was interrupted by the portrait hole swinging open and someone shouting. She spun around to see Ron ranting to a very tired-looking Hermione.

She hastily shoved the notebook under her chair cushion. She knew Ron would be fascinated by a Muggle form of parchment—also known as lined paper—and he would show it to Hermione who would catch sight of the message written on the cover and overreact. And maybe she had a right to, but until Elita knew exactly what it was and what it was doing with her, she was reluctant to let anyone see it.

Luckily, no one saw her hide the notebook. Ron was too busy shouting, and Hermione looked too weary to notice anything. It was only then Elita let Ron's ranting register in her mind.

"—I mean, who does she think she is! Setting me up with some girl I don't know! Pah!" He looked over at Elita. "No offense, but your sister is the nosiest little—"

Hermione sighed deeply. "Ron, you've been screaming about this all day, just let it go, for heaven's sake."

"Ron, listen," Elita said cautiously. She knew about the whole situation, pretty much all the Gryffindors who had been in the common room a few hours ago before the train departed for Hogsmeade had heard Ron shouting about it at the top of his lungs. He wasn't exactly a quiet person when he was angry. "I know you don't want to hear this—" Ron scowled menacingly at her, but she continued. "But my sister's instincts tend to be… well… pretty much right on the nose. I'm really sorry if she offended you, but I know she was only trying to help."

Hermione eyed her curiously, but only for a moment, then she shifted her gaze back to Ron. He sighed with an obviously defeated expression on his face. "I guess…" he said reluctantly. He then snapped, "It would make you all so happy if I went out with this Raleigh girl, wouldn't it?" Hermione and Elita both nodded fervently. Ron looked to Elita, then Hermione. It seemed to Elita that he looked at the latter for just a moment too long. Hermione smiled pleadingly. He broke his eye contact with her, and sighed once more. "All right, all right," he groaned. "You both would just love it if you could control every aspect of my life… I'll do it."

"Don't sound so cheerful," Elita remarked.

"Hey, I'm going," Ron replied moodily. "I never said I would be happy about it. I have a while 'til next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway." He then added hastily, "But it's only one date!"

Hermione and Elita nodded in agreement. But Elita knew that Ron and Raleigh would go on many more dates than one…

Eventually the students that had gone to Hogsmeade came back, Harry was bearing sweets for all, and lost in the excitement, Elita's thoughts of the mysterious notebook were forgotten.