Disclaimer: I'm not lucky enough to own Harry Potter & the gang—they all belong to the incomparable JK Rowling!
Mischief Managed: Ch. 6
What happens when your boyfriend's 'spare bit of parchment' takes you and your arch-nemesis twenty years back in time? With the Marauders involved, things can get pretty interesting. ..
"This way," James said helpfully.
"You would know the way, wouldn't you?" Remus grinned at him, "But seeing as I am the prefect among us, I'd best be the one to take them."
"Mooney, don't you ever get tired of flashing that bloody badge around?"
"Oh bugger off, James," Remus shook his head, "why don't you go play Quidditch or something. Perhaps a long flight on your broom would do you some good."
"Good thinking Mooney, come on Padfoot," James said happily.
Sirius winked with a devilish look in his eyes, "you all are in great hands with Prefect Mooney on your case. Ummm...I mean, guiding you". He looked absent-mindedly toward the sky and whispered to James, "Unless it's a full moon…"
Remus glared at his two wayward friends as they frolicked off, Cleansweeps in hand.
"Don't mind them," he said courteously, offering Ginny his arm, "they're not but a bunch of idiots. We'd best get you to Dumbledore."
Ginny returned his smile; it was comforting, in a strange sort of way to see your former Professor as a carefree, or at least more-carefree-than-she'd known-him, sixteen-year-old. He was still a stickler for rules, and perhaps a bit of a stick in the mud.
"Come on Draco," she said commandingly.
Draco shook his head, "this is just too bizarre, Weasley."
"Is your friend...err...all right?" Remus said kindly to Ginny.
"This one?" she laughed, "he's always been a bit mental."
Remus nodded in understanding, "I've got plenty of friends who'd fit in that category."
"You seem pretty normal though," Ginny grinned at him.
Remus blushed, "oh me...oh yes...I'm quite normal."
"Are you sure?" she said teasingly, "no dark and dirty secrets behind that shiny badge of yours?"
"Me?" he said softly, "I'm just plain old Remus Lupin," with a slight waver of confidence.
"Yea right, Professor," Draco mumbled under his breath.
"Excuse me," Remus turned around, "I may be plain, but my hearing is excellent. And what was your name. Draco, isn't it? Is there something you wish to say?"
Draco laughed maniacally, "Oh no! Everything's jolly good. I just know I'm going to wake up in my bed in about five seconds and this nightmare will be over."
Ginny whispered to Remus, "See, I told you. Mental that one!"
"Gotcha," Remus said, casting a worried glance over his shoulder as he led them up the stone steps. "This is it. The password is chocolate sauce. Don't be afraid of him. Professor Dumbledore's the nicest man in the world and the most powerful wizard too."
"Crazy old coot," Draco muttered unhappily.
"Thanks Remus," Ginny smiled at the young werewolf, who was turning an interesting shade of red.
"Well, goodbye then," he shuffled off.
"Weasley, you're flirting with your former teacher! How disgusting. It's worse than the thought of you and Potter," Draco said caustically.
"Draco," Ginny said sharply, "I honestly can't deal with you anymore! Like it or not, we're in this mess together."
"Whose mess is this?" Draco yelled back, "Because I'm damn sure it wasn't mine, Weasley. No, you had to go messing with Potter's stuff! Now look what you've done!"
"Well, if you hadn't followed me, this would never have happened!"
"That's rich Weasley; you turned on whatever we fell through!" He was screaming now, and his handsome face looked positively purple.
"Well, you should learn to control your temper!"
"Be grateful you're a girl, Weasley. If you were a bloke I'd have hexed you into oblivion by now."
"Well now that you've calmed down," she said ignoring his icy glare, "now that you've calmed down," she loudly repeated,"Let's talk about our story before we go barging into Dumbledore's office."
"Our STORY?" Draco looked incredulous, "Simple: you're Weasley, who fucked up. I am Draco Malfoy, innocent victim. He says a spell. Boom. I'm back at the hotel time to catch Star Wars with Parkinson."
Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Star Wars?"
"Yes Weasley, Star Wars, you're a Muggle-lover. You should know all about it. Episode One does come out in less than three years you know."
She shook her head at Draco, "we can't use our last names."
"Why the bloody hell not?" Draco spat out.
"Because, Draco, we haven't been born yet!"
"So?"
"So we can't use our last names; it's that simple."
"I don't mean to bust your bubble, Weaselette; but one glance at you, and there's no question where you came from. And me, I've got distinct Malfoy features: singularly handsome people are easy to recognize."
"I'm glad you don't suffer from self-esteem problems, Malfoy," Ginny cracked a wry smile, "but now is not the time to be writing your personal ad."
Draco raised one perfectly waxed eyebrow. "Fine then, our story. Just what brilliant idea do you have this time Weasley? Transport ourselves to an even earlier date? Want to stop Lord Voldemort's birth? I suppose all this hero business of Potter's has gone to your head"
"One Draco: You can call him Lord at Death Eater training camp, but never around me. Two: If I knew how to use the map to transport ourselves to another time, don't you think we'd be on our way to 1996 by now? I honestly don't know a good solution," she said as they proceeded up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, "I guess we're about to find out…"
Draco's first impression of Dumbledore was that he hadn't changed much in twenty years. His hair had a bit of an auburn tint to it, but was the same length and style as before.
"May I help you?" the wizened old wizard smiled politely, "as I'm assuming you are not my students."
"Err—Professor Dumbledore, sir. My name is Ginny—Ginny umm Weatherby, and this is Draco—"
"Draco Mal—" he began in his drawling voice.
"Just Draco," Ginny jumped in quickly.
"Ahh—so Miss Weatherby and Mr. Just Draco," Dumbledore said kindly, "what can I do for you?"
"You can bloody well send us home," Draco said bitterly.
"Draco, for last time, we are home now," Ginny said through clenched teeth (the boy was really getting on her last nerves)
"We're transfer students, Professor, and I believe we need to be sorted."
"Quite correct, Miss Weatherby," Dumbledore stood up to retrieve the tattered old hat from a shelf behind his desk.
"Now if you both would kindly try it on, it will determine which house is right for each of you."
Draco stood up proudly, knowing that the hat wouldn't even need to touch his head to send him to Slytherin.
"Ladies first, Mr. Just Draco," Dumbledore gave him that same omnipotent smile he had seen many times before.
Ginny gingerly picked up the old Sorting Hat and placed it on her head.
"Hello there," the Hat's magical voice said, "you seem familiar to me, but I haven't sorted you before.yet—a Weasley, hmm…not too difficult to place.
Better be: GRYFFINDOR!"
Ginny smiled triumphantly at Draco, who merely smirked.
"Surprise, surprise," he rolled his eyes and pulled the hat onto his perfected coiffed head.
"Oh," the Hat said in that stupid misty voice, "as cunning as Salthazar himself; you would do well in Slytherin."
Draco smiled; he knew which house it was going to be. Maybe he could hook up with his father's school chums until Dumbledore sent them home.
"On the other hand," the Hat said, "I can see that your heart carries many secrets, and it is difficult to bear them without good friends. Perhaps you will find them in: GRYFFINDOR!"
"Excuse me?" he looked at Dumbledore with disgust, "I believe that thing just said Gryffindor—"
"You heard correctly my boy," Dumbledore said with an annoying twinkle in his eye.
"But I—" Draco looked positively mortified, "I have to be in Slytherin. I look simply pasty in red!"
"I'm sorry my boy," Dumbledore said kindly, "but at least you will have Miss Weatherby for company. It is easier for a student in a new house if they have a friend by their side."
"Her?" Draco looked offended, "she's no friend of mine. The way she is, one would never know she's a pureblood."
Ginny's smile faded very quickly, "well if being a pureblood involves being as much of a prat as you, then I'm proud to not be thought of as one."
Dumbledore's smile had all but disappeared, "I think, young Mr. Draco, that spending time with this particular class of 6th year Gryffindors might serve as a valuable lesson to you."
Draco was beyond caring at this point.
"Fine!" he snapped, "I'll live with the Gryffin-dorks, but don't expect me to turn chummy with them."
"I knew you'd see reason," Dumbledore said delightedly, "now, I'll call for Mr. Lupin to show you to your new rooms."