Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Updated: Tuesday 17th May 2005
Chapter Seventy Seven: DopplegangerEyes flying open, momentarily blinded by an unknown light source, Estella gasped for air. Gaining her consciousness fully, she looked around the room suspiciously. The last thing she could remember was everyone fighting in her room before being knocked backwards by a heavy weight colliding with her.
Shifting her eyes around the displaced bedroom warily, Estella picked herself up from the floor where she had landed and dusted herself off. She must have fallen backwards and grabbed the Portkey to her Mother's bedroom, for that's where she was.
Not paying any attention to the bedroom as she steadily made her way to the door, Estella failed to realise that the room wasn't quite exactly how she'd last seen it. The bed was made, the desk tidy, and a few miscellaneous objects were missing from their places around the room. So set on her goal was she, that Estella also failed to register the sounds of someone in the bathroom before she walked out of the room, and into the hallway, without so much as another thought. Walking down the hallway, however, stark oddities sent the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
When had her Uncle brought all this stuff back out? She wondered as she became increasingly frightened and disorientated by the unfamiliar portraits on the walls. Was this a dream?
"Selina! Watch where you're going!" A not-quite-matured silky voice cut into her thoughts as she collided with a dark blur of robes and hair.
Automatically bending down to help the man – no, boy – pick the scuttled potions vials off the floor where he had dropped them coming around the corner and into her. She was halfway through an apology when the boy swept back the lank tresses of hair that were curtaining his face and she saw him for the first time.
It was Severus Snape… a extremely young Severus Snape.
"You blow up a de-aging potion or something?" She asked curiously, taking in his early adolescent features. His face was a little less angular, and he wasn't as tall. 'How on earth did he get back here so soon? He was in London a moment ago…'
Her Uncle smirked before he brushed past her, his arms full of potions equipment once more. "Nice try, sis; but in case you haven't noticed I'm not the only late bloomer in this family." He threw over his shoulder before admitting himself into his rooms.
Estella could only stare after him, slack jawed. What on earth was going on?
Deciding that the best port of call would be to re-trace her steps and see where it took her, Estella rushed back to her mother's bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Her mind running through the events she had just encountered, Estella's eyes widened in shock.
Was she in the past?
Running across the room to the roll top desk, ignoring the different spread of parchment and stationery that adorned it, Estella fumbled for the place she knew the hidden compartment to be. If the time turner was there, then she was in the past… if not, she had evidently been spending too much time around potion fumes.
It was there.
Closing her hand around the revealing device in disbelief, she'd barely pocketed the time turner before a voice stirred her from her reverie.
"Sev! How many times have I told you to knock first!" A voice shrieked at her. Cringing, Estella turned to face the owner of the voice, her face sending the resident teenager reeling back in surprise as their eyes connected. "Who the hell are you?"
Estella's jaw dropped. Standing before her was a teenage version of her mother. "S-s-s-selina?" She choked, knowing off the cuff that calling a girl who looked no older than 15 'Mum' would be hardly suitable. Even if this was some sort of twisted dream.
"No. I'm Selina!" The older girl whipped back menacingly (in a tone not at all unlike Sev's when Estella really thought about it) picking her wand up from her dressing table. "Though whoever tried to make you look like me didn't quite get the polyjuice right. What did you do, Sirius, add one of your own hairs as well by mistake?"
"No." Estella shook her head, confused. What was all this about polyjuice?
"Is it you then, Peter?" Selina asked, coming closer so as to stalk around Estella appraisingly. "Couldn't see what a girl looked like any other way, mmm Wormy?"
"I'm a real girl!" Estella said as firmly as she could, trying to ignore the Pinocchio parallel.
"Oh sure, just keep telling yourself that, Peter. Maybe you'll stay that way." Selina rolled her eyes. "Would do you a favour by any means."
Estella held her hands up in defeat, her mind spinning as she thought of ways she could get out of the mess she was in.
"Terrible things happen to people who meddle with time" Hermione's voice echoed in her head as she recalled the day the older Gryffindor let her in on how she had been getting to her classes that year. As much as she wanted to get to know her mother and tell her who she was, she was afraid of the consequences. What if it meant she would never be born? Seemingly trapped in the said girl's bedroom, however, Estella didn't know what else she could do. Would breaking the time turner again, here in this time, return her to her own time? One would think that it would seeing as the time turner would no longer exist in her own time in order for her to break it and come back here in the first place. But then if she were to break it now and prevent herself from ever breaking it in the future, that would mean it would never be broken in this time and it would still be there to be broken in her time… it was all so confusing. The only thing that remained apparent was that she was supposed to come back through time… but why?
Slowly moving her hand behind her to grasp the spanner she had discarded there earlier, Estella crossed her fingers and hoped the Portkey was still active. She couldn't deal with her mother right now – she needed Dumbledore's advice first. Disappearing from her mother's room via the Portkey seemed to be the only way she could get away without giving too much away… so she did it.
She could only hope that no one was home in the house her mother and father had yet to buy.
Reappearing in the vastly different room that was to one day become her bedroom, Estella appreciated for the first time just how much her parents had invested in wizard-space charms to make their humble abode habitable. The room was positively tiny.
Looking around at the peeling lavender wallpaper and rickety old furniture as it squeezed into the limited wall space of the room, Estella gathered that when her parents had bought the property it must have been a real fixer-upper… which meant that the house, as she remembered it, reflected more of her parents tastes and decorative exploits than she had previously thought.
Hearing movement in the lower level of the house, Estella cursed and made her way to the window. She knew from experience that if she could get onto the roof she should be able to get onto the adjoining building's third floor balcony and down its access ladder. Provided no one was home next door, she would then be able to make a clean getaway into the back alley.
There was only one problem. Since her parents had not yet bought the house, Sirius hadn't fallen off the roof… and because Sirius hadn't fallen off the roof yet, her mother had not put anti-falling charms around the building. If Estella was going to climb out of the window and scale the side of the house onto the roof, there was a possibility that she could fall.
"Get a grip, Black." Estella tried to bolster her resolve. "You've done this a thousand times."
'But what if the wizard-space charms changed the exterior dimensions of the house?' A nagging little voice in the back of her head warned her cautiously.
Stuck for answers, Estella weighed out her options. She could either try and get out via the roof and face her fear, or almost certainly be caught trespassing in a Muggle home and arrested with a identity that doesn't exist yet. Her mind was made up for her when she could hear the tell-tale signs of footsteps out in the hall. Pushing her fears into the back of her mind, Estella went into survival mode and made her way onto the roof without another conscious thought.
'Oh my god!' Estella's mind rejoiced as her body shook with adrenalin. 'I can't believe I just did that!'
The hard part over, Estella commando-crawled across the rooftop, making her way silently across the property to the wall that marked the boundary of the adjoining property (which was a storey taller). Leaning heavily against the wall, Estella then pulled herself up into a standing position and scuffled her way along the wall until she reached the balustrade of the neighbour's receded balcony. After craning her neck on the look out of any signs of life in the neighbouring house, Estella took a deep breath and threw her leg over the balustrade, making her way onto the balcony. Thankfully the access ladder was on her side of the balcony and so, not having to cross the length of the balcony, she lessened the risk of being seen as she made her way down to the yard.
'Don't look down.' She warned herself. It was hard not to though, as she had to make sure no one was within eyeshot of the lower levels of the house too if she wanted to avoid detection. Thankfully, it seemed that no one was home, and Estella was able to set down in the rear courtyard of the neighbour's home without incident.
One thing she didn't count on, however, was the door in the courtyard wall – the one she knew, like all the houses in the terrace, led out into the rear alley – being locked with some sort of high tech Muggle electronic lock.
"Who the heck lives here? James Bond?" Estella cursed, wracking her mind for a solution. The lock was a personalised alarmed mechanism that required a sequence of numbers to be entered correctly into a little keypad that sat within a weatherproof case. Staring blankly at the foreign Muggle security device, Estella suddenly came to appreciate the simple subtlety of Wizarding wards. A ward, for example, would for the most part only be too happy to permit an accidental trespasser their leave.
"Damn Muggle contraptions!" Estella cursed, glaring at the offending technology.
The longer she stared at it, however, the more she was reminded of something.
"Of course!" Estella whispered excitedly to herself as she slapped her head in self-admonishment – she didn't know why she didn't think of it sooner! The previous Summer, when she had visited Hermione's house, the Muggleborn girl had shown her a similar – granted a little more advanced - locking mechanism. The pair had been cutting through the back alley behind the Granger home to avoid a longer walk around the block, and Hermione had forgotten the key code for the back gate, instead reaching her hand under the doorway with her wand and pressing what she had explained to Estella was a 'panic button'. The time and technology of the Granger house having a good 15-20 years on the security installations of this time, Estella could only hope that the Muggle techniques did not alter that much over time as she concentrated her efforts on locating a similar panic switch.
"…and the earthbound Ravenclaw Seeker catches the snitch to win the match!" Estella commentated nonsensically as she located the innocent red button on the lower doorframe behind a brick. Clearly, having spent the Summer with a Quidditch-mad, overgrown child had left its mark.
Pressing the button triumphantly, Estella whooped for joy (as quietly as possible, of course) as the door clicked open and gave her exit into the alleyway. Wand at the ready, Estella closed the door behind her softly and made her way out of the pedestrian only path, headed for the nearest traffic bearing road.
Thank goodness the Knight Bus didn't ask too many questions of its passengers.
Summoning said bus with a patient flick of her wand, Estella was happy to discover that, in this time, a lowly 25 Knuts guaranteed her a fare to London and a Hot Chocolate. Curling up on one of the shaking brass beds gratefully, Estella found a discarded copy of that day's newspaper and gave herself a living history lesson.
She'd guessed from the state of her Uncle and mother that she was at some point in the 1970s, but it was only from seeing the paper's date – August 16 1975 – that Estella could get a proper gauge of her bearing. From her rudimentary calculations, Voldemort had not yet displayed his homicidal intentions, and the Wizarding world was in a tranquil, peace-time lull. Only those high in the Ministry were aware of the impending threat. Muggle wise, the 70s were a time of liberation and awakening, and Estella was enthusiastic to discover how much of this free-spiritedness transcended into the magical community.
"Oi, wot did yer say ye name was?" A tall, skinny, altogether older version of Stan Shunpike tipped his hat at her.
"I didn't." Estella said nonchalantly. "How long until we arrive at the Leaky Cauldron?"
"I dare say no longer than two minutes." Stan Shunpike Snr frowned slightly. "You's might even have walked from where you were! Not often does the Knight Bus get called to the Muggle parts of town like. 'Specially so close to ya destination. Say, you ain't runnin' from somethin' are ya?"
Estella growled softly to herself. So much for the Knight Bus not asking many questions! Guess people were a little more open and talkative in the 70s…
"I'm running late, that's what." Estella clarified, lying smoothly. Portkey was off."
"Ah, say no more." Shunpike smiled, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth. Pulling a slip of paper from a ticket dispenser he had strapped to his body, he held it out to her. "Here. You'll wanna be givin' this to the foolish codger that made ya dung Portkey. See to it you are suitably reimbursed for your inconvenience like."
"Thank you, Mr Shunpike." Estella smiled and accepted the Wizarding receipt from the man as the bus rammed itself to a halt outside her destination – The Leaky Cauldron.
Scratching his head as he watched the mysterious strange girl disembark his bus, Stan Shunpike Snr frowned.
"I didn't tell her my name, Ern!" He said, turning to his driver. "Has she been on the bus before? I never forget a face…"
The driver in question shrugged.
Shaking the fog from his head, Stan Shunpike Snr swore an oath. "That's it! No more puffin' that muggle dragon stuff for me!"
Staring after the Knight Bus as it shot away from the kerb, headed for Knockturn Alley, Estella could only smile. At least some things managed to stay consistent. She'd heard what the conductor had said as she disembarked the bus, and could only agree – the man did indeed never forget a face. The first time Remus had taken her on the Knight Bus several years earlier, young Stan Shunpike Jnr hadn't taken over the conductor duties from his father yet and Estella had met the older man before his retirement. At the time neither Remus nor Estella could account for the quizzical looks old Shunpike kept shooting her, but now it seemed that mystery had been solved.
But if that was the case – if the older Stan Shunpike remembered her from this time in their own time – then how come Remus or Severus never told her she would be coming back in time? Estella could only hope that their memory of her in the past was obliviated because otherwise it quite possibly meant that either something happened to her before she got to Hogwarts, or she returned to her own time before then. The more she thought about it, the more she realised she actually wanted to spend some time in the past. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she just couldn't pass up the opportunity to meet her mother properly and maybe even spend some time getting to know Harry's parents.
Harry's parents. They were still alive!
'I can save them!' She realised suddenly. Then, as the pieces started to fall into place she got even more excited. Saving Harry's parents meant she was also saving her own father from a prison sentence.
Then what of her mother? Would having Sirius there with his wife as she was giving birth save her?
The possibilities were endless. All Estella knew was that she had to get to Dumbledore.
Halfway through the doorway into the Leaky Cauldron, however, Estella faltered in her step. There was no way Dumbledore would allow her to stay in the past, especially if he knew what she was going to do.
'Don't tell him you have the time-turner, you silly git!' A malevolent little voice schemed in the back of her mind.
Perfect. Dumbledore would have no choice but to allow Estella to stay at the school until a way home could be found for her, and that would give her all the time she needed to warn them about Peter.
Peter. Estella's plan hit another snag. Peter probably wasn't marked yet… and she had no proof that he ever would be. Plus, both her father and Remus had told her what they were like in school… of anybody, the marauders would likely think she was pulling a prank. Then what if Harry was meant to be the boy-who-lived? If Voldemort hadn't found the Potters, then how would he have been defeated? He would have kept killing and more lives would have been lost. He could have come after her parents instead that night and she might never have been born.
It was moments like these that Estella appreciated why she was never sorted into Gryffindor – for unlike the members of that house, she thought things through. In the end, she realised that the best thing would be to go to Dumbledore and lay all her cards out on the table – all except the time-turner in her possession, of course – and see what advice he could offer. It wasn't that she was particularly reverent or endeared to the old man, but she would have to be a fool not to acknowledge that he was an extremely powerful wizard, and most certainly superior in knowledge to her.
Pushing off from the wall – where she had been loitering in her thoughts, buried in the shadows – Estella made her way down the dimly lit, narrow passageway that connected the rear entrance with the main bar. Luckily for her, before she had grown tired of the game and sought out the owners of the voices downstairs, Remus and the de-aged Estella had been playing 'shop'. Estella had been 'Madame Malkin', and Remus, her customer; and being ever the industrious little perfectionist, they had been playing with real money. So, not only did Estella have a handy amount stashed away in her little money pouch, and her robes, which had all been charmed to grow as she did (which was quite rapidly each day) were not too conspicuous.
"What can I get for you, kid?" An unfamiliar voice barked at her, rousing her from her reverie.
"Uh, yes, sorry." Estella muttered, unable to place the face of the barman before her as belonging to someone in her time. "I was wondering if it was at all possible to fire-call someone privately?"
"Who would you be looking at calling?" The barman asked of her suspiciously. "Unless it is an emergency, only guests can use the Floo for private calls."
"I think this would count as an emergency." Estella said quietly. "It's really important that I speak with Albus Dumbledore… he's the headmaster of Hogwarts."
"I know who he is." The man barked. "What do you want with him? Where are your parents?"
"I don't know where they are." Estella admitted hopelessly. "But they said if I ever needed help to call Professor Dumbledore."
"I don't think the headmaster of Hogwarts would be able to do much to help you, kid." The barman narrowed his eyes at her, scrutinisingly. "You sure this isn't a matter for the Ministry? They have a division that deals with family services…"
"I'm not a delinquent, sir." Estella said sternly. "Whether it's a call to Hogwarts or the Ministry, either way it's a fire-call, right? So please, sir…"
"Oh bleedin' heck, alright, alright!" The barman sighed, sold by the sympathetic looks a table of ladies who had overheard the child's plight were giving him. "Wait over there by the service door, there's a Floo in me office that you can use. I'll take you soon as Tommy has finished clearing the tables and can cover for me behind the bar, alright?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir." Estella said sincerely before pulling out the 4 Knuts she had gotten as change from the Sickle she'd surrendered for her bus fare and putting them on the table. "How much for a Butterbeer?"
"Three Knuts." The barman replied, pulling three of the four Knuts towards him and leaving Estella her change as he deftly drew her a glass of the foamy Wizarding beverage from the tap with his other hand. "You're not from around here, are you kid?"
"Is it that obvious?" Estella sighed as she wrapped her lips around the glass and took a grateful sip of her Butterbeer. She'd had to forgo the hot chocolate on the Knight Bus as her trip was so short, and lunch had seemed so long ago. Her stomach choosing that time to protest, Estella was almost going to ask the gruff, impatient bartender for something to eat, but then she didn't want him to change his mind about letting her use the private Floo, so she contented herself with her drink. Food could wait until Hogwarts – provided the headmaster was willing to hear her out.
"Well you need to use the Floo or what, kid?" The barman asked five minutes later as she was finishing off the last of her drink. "Tommy's gotta go on his break in five, so you had better make it quick. Follow me."
Slamming her glass down in her hurry, Estella scrambled off the bar stool and ducked under the end of the counter, following the burly barman into a tiny back office.
"She's all yours." The barman gestured grandly as they entered the pokey room with a small fireplace taking up an entire wall on the far side. "You'll find the Floo powder on the mantle."
"Thankyou for this." Estella said gratefully as she turned to face the unassuming barman. "Do I owe you anything for the Floo powder?"
"You're really not from around here are you, kid." The barman stated. "Floo powder is free. Consolation prize for the network taxes the ministry insists on imposing for each fireplace that is connected."
'Well that's new.' Estella marvelled to herself. 'or old… whatever.'
"I'll leave you to it then." The barman continued awkwardly. "Tommy's likely itching to get on his break. You should be able to find your own way back out to the bar. I'm trusting you not to touch anything you shouldn't."
"Of course not!" Estella assured him.
Satisfied, the barman turned to leave, but Estella called him back. "I, um, may end up flooing to the headmaster's office if he is agreeable. My parents will know to fetch me from there." She said. "Thank you again, sir."
"Fine." The barman snorted as acknowledgement. "Just so you know though, these rooms are charmed with wards that'll go off if you intend on any monkey business."
"That's ok, sir, you don't have to worry." Estella assured him, smirking inwardly as a certain flying monkey scene from one of her favoured Muggle books came to mind. "I'm a witch from the north, not the west."
Shaking his head in confusion, the barman left the office, giving Estella privacy to use the Floo. Closing the door behind him and crossing over to the fireplace, Estella threw a dash of Floo Powder into the fire.
"Professor Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She called out clearly.
Moments later, a familiar, yet slightly younger visage of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the fiery green haze.
"Professor Dumbledore! Thank Merlin you're in!" Estella exclaimed. "I really need to come to Hogwarts… right now."
"Whatever for?" Albus asked, somewhat wary.
"Just trust me on this… please?" Estella pleaded.
Professor Dumbledore looked at the child in his Floo appraisingly. He couldn't detect any glamourie charms on the child, and she appeared to be openly distressed about something.
Making his decision, he beckoned to the child. "Why come on through…"
End Chapter: Doppleganger