Potter47
~ Part Two ~
Closer to Where I Started
"O call back yesterday, bid time return."
~ Shakespeare
~ Chapter Seven ~
Recollection
"You can stop laughing now," said Ron, who was beginning to get a bit annoyed with Hermione for laughing so much. Luna had calmed down minutes ago, and there was Hermione, still laughing her head off.
"It's not that funny," he muttered. "I was five."
"But Ron," said Hermione. "I can just picture you. Acting just like your mother. 'Virginia Weasley you stop that this instant!' Was Ginny your daughter?"
Ron mumbled something that Hermione took as a 'yes.'
"Seriously, though," said Luna. "It really wasn't all that funny until he asked to borrow one of my dresses..."
"I DID NOT!"
She grinned. "Just kidding, Ron, I-"
He was staring at her, his eyes as wide as hers normally were. "What did you call me?"
She realised what she had done. "I-I called you Ron." She looked shocked at herself. "I don't think I've ever done that before."
"No, you always called all of us by our full names," Ron said. "Except Gin. I don't particularly know how you knew that 'Fred' was short for 'Alfred' and not 'Frederick.' Or that 'Bill' was short for 'Bilius.' Or that Charlie's name isn't short for anything..."
"I guessed," she admitted, smiling again.
Ron sat there thinking for a few moments. Something was clearly on his mind. "You stopped coming over...when was it?" he asked. "Right before I came here, wasn't it?"
Luna had stopped smiling. "I...erm...something happened. It didn't seem important anymore."
She looked down at the table. Seeing all the food, delicious-looking as always, it almost made her throw up. She had not meant to talk about this. Especially not when her best friend was missing. Talking about childhood memories, cheerful ones, that was different. It had been a welcome relief. But this...
Ron (she decided she liked his nickname) was looking worriedly at her. So were Hermione and Neville, but they seemed a bit out of the conversation. They hadn't known Luna then. They only met her on the train, at the beginning of the year.
"What?" asked Ron. "What happened?" He spoke softly, comfortingly. Something she hadn't heard him do.
"My-" Luna started before she could stop herself. She never had been one to keep her mouth closed, and when Ron asked, it was quite impossible. There was something in his voice that gave Luna a bit of hope. "My mum," she said quietly. "She...well, she was always an amazing witch. Very powerful. She experimented a bit. One day, there was an accident, and..." Luna swallowed.
She looked up at the three Gryffindors. "Well, that's why I can see Thestrals."
"I'm sorry..." started Hermione, but Luna cut her off.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. You weren't there. You didn't even know her. Maybe..." She started to get up from the bench. "Maybe I should just go..."
"No," said Ron. "Stay."
Hermione looked as if she wanted to smack Ron for being so impolite. You could at least use full sentences! But Luna didn't even notice the rudeness. She had left the table and was on her way out of the Great Hall. Ron had the strange urge to follow her, and was about to act on it, when he felt Hermione's hand on his arm. "Don't," she said, reading his mind. "You'll only make her feel worse."
Of course, thought Ron. It's all my fault. Hermione acts like she knows everything.
And for once, she was wrong.
"Everlasting Gobstopper," Ginny said as they reached the stone gargoyle. It sprang aside, as it always did, and they stepped inside the opening in the wall.
Harry did not like their current predicament one bit. First, they had travelled to a year in which his grandparents (he felt confident that John Potter and Virginia Arden, were in fact his grandparents) had been at Hogwarts, and now they had been taken to his parents final year at school. Why? What possible explanation could there be for the coincidence?
This was very different, however. Harry had not even known who his grandparents were, before this little odyssey began. He had no clue that his father's mother was a redhead named Virginia (a coincidence that he did not feel like even thinking about.). He didn't know that his grandfather was named John, and looked just like his father and himself.
But his parents...oh, Harry knew much about his parents.
The main reason for this being, of course, Snape's penseive. Harry had fallen into the stone bowl after an Occlumency lesson, earlier in the year. He witnessed the day of his parents' DADA OWL. And he saw his father torture Severus Snape.
Well, torture was a harsh word. It was more of embarrassing or humiliating. But that did not change the fact that James Potter had hung the Slytherin upside down merely because Sirius Black was bored.
Lily Evans, Harry's mother, had defended Snape, and opposed James. That was what Harry was most uncomfortable with. His mother had seemed to hate James Potter. He could not see how they would end up married, even if his very existence was proof.
He had talked to Sirius and Lupin about it through the fire in Umbridge's office. They had told him that James had been an idiot. That they all had been idiots. They said that James' head had shrunken, and that Lily had gone out with him in -
Seventh year.
That probably already happened, thought Harry. He still couldn't picture it, even if he knew it was inevitable.
The staircase seemed to take forever to reach the top. Harry closed his eyes.
He tried to picture his parents together. Like, dating, not just standing next to each other. He found it remarkably hard, considering the fact that he had just seen, not twenty-hours beforehand, a couple that looked just like them. In fact, he could even picture himself and Ginny as a couple before he could picture his parents...
He shook his head. Bad time to think about that, he told himself. Maybe once we're back home, but not now.
For Harry had come to think of Ginny like that. Often. And it had begun quite recently. He looked at her now, taping her foot while waiting for the stairs to reach the door, and tried to remember how she used to be. When she had fancied him.
It seemed his imagination had evaporated, because as much as he tried, he could not picture Ginny putting her elbow in a butter-dish. Or blushing at the mere sight of him. It was clear that she was over him. She had been going out with Michael Corner all year.
Harry now knew why the thought of Michael Corner made him feel sick.
I can't believe this happened, he thought, still staring at the impatient red hair. Who would've thought...just a few days ago, that I'd fancy Ginny Weasley?
The wizard escalator finally came to a stop. Ginny reached out and knocked on the door. "Professor Dumbledore? May we come in?"
"Yes, of course, Miss Evans."
Fate, thought Harry. It has to be fate.
Dark. Yes, that's the only word to describe the setting. Well, maybe that and 'evil,' but that seems to describe the feeling more than the setting. Even though the evil was practically visible.
And now it was. Out of the darkness, came a tall figure. An unnaturally tall figure with unnaturally long fingers.
The Dark Lord.
He was most definitely not a happy camper, if you were to use a Muggle saying (which would most likely be a bad idea).
His prophecy was not his. The Death Eaters had failed. And Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived. The 'one with the power.' Harry Potter was missing.
Along with the Weasley girl.
What a coincidence.
The Dark Lord had made a mistake. He knew it as soon as it was made. It may, in fact, be a fatal error, if he was not careful.
He most definitely, should not have sent Crabbe.
The mistake was being paid for gravely. Yes, gravely. What an accurate term...
The Dark Lord was angry. Not only had Potter slipped through his hands once again, no, this time it was worse. There was no telling what was to happen on Potter's little 'adventure' with the Weasley girl. Secrets could be unravelled. Mysteries could be solved. Feelings could be discovered.
All the Dark Lord could do was, for lack of a better term, pray, that fate would not find a way to foil his plans once again.
For he did have a plan. Yes, he always had a plan.
"Death Eaters," he said, to the group that had gathered, in the room below. He was standing on a sort of balcony, overlooking a meeting room. All sound ceased the moment his cold, high voice left his mouth.
"My loyal Death Eaters," he said, walking to the edge of the balcony and peering into the crowd. "You all know of the recent failure. Of course you do. That is the reason one of our number is not present here tonight."
A shiver went through the gathered servants, all no doubt picturing what exactly the Dark Lord had done to Crabbe.
"You all know quite well that I do not tolerate failure. Some of you have been lucky, and you were spared the dark fate that was hanging above your head." He looked pointedly at the shivering mask that was Wormtail. "Others will not be."
"My lord," one of the Death Eaters said, stepping forward and speaking to the Dark Lord. "What are you planning to do now? We cannot steal the prophecy while Potter is missing. Do you have something else that needs accomplishing?"
"Why, yes I do Rookwood." The Dark Lord smiled his hideous smile, and Rookwood tried not to flinch. "Tonight as a matter of fact."
The Dark Lord waved his thirteen inch, phoenix feather wand, and an image appeared above the Death Eater's heads.
"Hogwarts!" cried one of the Death Eaters. Female. Lestrange. "You cannot be serious! Dumbledore is there! I am sure of it! If we attack Hogwarts we will fail!"
"Who said anything about attacking Hogwarts, Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord asked. "Such an attack is not nearly ready. It will be at least another year or so until we have the necessary forces for such a thing. No, not an attack."
"What then?" she asked.
"You, Bellatrix, and a few of the other loyal Death Eaters, you will go to Hogwarts. But not an attack. More of a, kidnapping, actually."
"Kidnapping?" asked a voice that was clearly that of Lucius Malfoy. "Who are you planning on kidnapping?"
"Your son Draco, of course," the Dark Lord stated as if it were the obvious answer.
"What?" Malfoy yelped. "Er...I mean, why do you want to kidnap Draco? He'd come any time if you just asked him..." Malfoy recovered.
"Idiot," Voldemort muttered. "It was a joke. You know, the nonsensical words of a disturbed man. Surely you've heard of them?"
Nervous laughter rippled through the group of minions, but they were not all that sure if the Dark Lord wanted them to laugh or not.
"No, I'm not going to kidnap your son, Lucius. What good would that do?" the Dark Lord questioned. "No, I plan on kidnapping Potter's four friends. Weasley, Granger, Longbottom," Bellatrix smiled her wicked smile, "and that Lovegood girl."
"But...why?" asked Goyle, who looked rather odd without his counterpart Crabbe. "Why kidnap Potter's friends? They are no threat to us..."
"Let me explain it to you Goyle," the Dark Lord said slowly, better for the Death Eater to understand. "Potter finds his way back here, and expects to find his friends. But he doesn't. Simple. He comes and tries to rescue them, and then we have him. Get it?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"You'll go tomorrow," the Dark Lord said. "Malfoy, the Lestranges, Rookwood, and S-" he looked around. "Where is Snape?" he asked.
"He is filling in for the Headmaster," a female Death Eater said. Not Lestrange, no. Trelawney.
"Of course," said the Dark Lord, smiling. "All the better. Avery - go instead."
"Yes, my Lord."
Yes, thought the Dark Lord. This should work.
"Sir," said Ginny. "It's not Miss Evans."
"What are you talking about?" asked the Headmaster. "Don't tell me you're marrying James already..." He looked to Harry.
"Er..." Harry was a bit distracted.
"No, sir," said Ginny. "It's us. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Nineteen forty-five?"
Dumbledore looked at her closely. "Really?" he asked. "I have been wondering when you two would turn up again..."
"Yeah, well, we did," said Harry, tearing his eyes off of Ginny's hair. "And now my parents are here."
"James and Lily?" asked Dumbledore.
Harry nodded.
"I just knew that would work out." He beamed at Harry. "I've been trying to give them a push in the right direction for ages. I finally give up, and...poof! They're dating." He smiled at the two teens. "What is it about Potter men and redheads?"
It was very warm in Dumbledore's office.
"Erm... Professor? What do we do now?" Harry asked, hoping that Ginny would not turn around, as his face was redder than her hair.
"Well, how did you get out of nineteen forty-five?" asked Dumbledore curiously.
"We just..." Ginny turned around and looked at Harry questioningly. She did not comment on his current hue.
"There was a lot of green smoke, or fog, or something. And we just..."
"Came to now," Ginny finished.
Dumbledore was smiling slightly, presumably because of the finishing of sentences. "You did not control it at all?" he asked.
"No," said Harry and Ginny simultaneously, shaking their heads.
Dumbledore blinked, and smiled again. "Well, then I assume all you can do is wait. When did the smoke come?" he asked.
"I think a day after we got there."
"Yes, then. You will just have to wait, and see where you go next. Hopefully back to..." he thought for a moment. "Ninety-six?"
They nodded.
Harry thought of something. "Er...Professor?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry?"
"Where are we going to be staying?"
"Hmm... I hadn't thought of that." He looked to be thinking just for show, and had already had an answer. "Well, since your mother is the Head Girl this year, there is only one room available...You two wouldn't mind sharing the Head Boy's room, would you?" He had a mischievous glint in his eye. A glint that he had believed himself cured of when Lily and James got together.
Harry looked quite a bit like a goldfish, out of water. While he sat staring at the Headmaster, Ginny said, "Not at all. Harry? You don't mind the floor, do you?"
Numbly, Harry shook his head.
"Good night, my young friends," said the Headmaster merrily, as he stood up from his desk chair.
The two new roommates walked down the stairs, not waiting for it to take them down. One, very red in the face, and the other, struggling to keep her face straight.
~ Next Chapter ~
Thicker than Water
"What has once happened, will invariably happen again, when the same circumstances which combined to produce it, shall again combine in the same way."
~ Lincoln
