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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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18 – Week Forty One, Third Year
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Sunday, May 27, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:42
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"Post's here!"
Mattie and the other students looked up to see the usual flock of owls (and bats) enter the Great Hall. Some of them headed for the Ravenclaw table, but Mattie whistled, and they changed course. She looked over at an exhausted Amy, bent over a textbook, frantically studying for her OWLs, smiled, and said, "Don't worry about these."
Sprink already had the Reporter open, the headline announcing 'Arrests in Malfoy case'. Arthur leaned over and stole the business section, Mattie overhearing him mutter, "Damn, sucks to be me." He folded the page, heading to Gryffindor and sitting next to his sister, casting a privacy spell. Charlie whistled, helping with her mail.
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"What can I do for you, brother mine?" Julie asked as Arthur joined her.
He gave her a quick grin, casting a privacy spell. "Did you set up any secret ways to talk to Mom and Dad? I didn't," he confessed.
"Mr. Paranoid doesn't have a web mail account?" she teased. "I'm shocked. I send an email to Mom's work account with the word 'Carson' in the subject; then I code my message a certain way you don't need to know about. Is that good enough?"
"Mr. Paranoid's e-mail accounts are all subject to routine monitoring." He thought for a minute; then scribbled a message on a blank page in one of her notebooks.
She looked at it, saying "You still have horrible handwriting."
He snorted, "It says, 'Buy tungsten or tungsten futures, price expected to go up, will explain end of term.'" He looked at his sister, "Just for you, I've been overhearing Mattie talk. The galactic currency is tungsten, the London price is £5.16 a kilo. Her company, Arrowhead, has been quietly buying tungsten, as have the Royal Exchequer and I'm sure Gringotts is sitting on a nice pile. Apparently, that's why this system keeps being invaded; we're ignorant, defenseless barbarians sitting on a small mountain of gold."
"Or in this case, tungsten," his sister breathed, her eyes wide. "Is this insider trading?"
"I don't work for Arrowhead, so I don't see how it could be. I think it's the same as overhearing a conversation in the barber shop. And obviously, don't even think of mentioning this to anyone else."
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Monday, May 28, 2001:
London, The Leaky Cauldron: 07:03
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"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Albus said, pouring tea for his visitor. "I don't see you that often."
"No, we're all so dratted busy," Arthur Weasley said, dropping a cube of sugar in and stirring his tea thoughtfully. "Molly with her catering business, the twins with their shop..." He took a sip; then set his tea down, asking, "I wanted to get your thoughts, Albus. Recently, I ran across this flyer, and asked Ginny and Harry to go with Bill and Fleur."
Albus unrolled the flyer, weighting it down with the sugar bowl. He frowned, it showed a young woman in an abbreviated tuxedo, fishnet hose on her legs, with a rather confused rabbit looking out of a top hat. Large letters proclaimed, 'One week only! Zatanna the Magnificent!' He looked over at Arthur, "Aside from the brevity of her costume, I see nothing unusual. A muggle stage performer."
"Ah, but she isn't, Albus. She's a registered American mage, and my spies reported she performed actual magic." He took a sip, adding, "Nothing any third-year couldn't do, conjuring, transfiguration, banishment. However, she did it in public, and the Ministry didn't come down on her for it." He took a contemplative sip, "Nor did the Americans and I wonder why."
"The secrecy acts..." Albus mused. "At the time, they were a British colony, so our endorsement would have applied to them. I wonder, did they ever endorse them, or has the question arisen before." He poured his own cup of tea, glancing at the chairman of the Muggle Relations committee as he added a dash of lemon. "There's something else, isn't there, Arthur?"
"There is, are you aware of 'Speaker's Corner'?" Arthur continued, "It's the northeastern corner of Hyde Park, where you can go to speak your mind." Albus nodded, "On Sundays, there's been a bloke there doing magic, real magic, across from the usual muggle religious types. Nobody's taken any notice of him except the parents with their tykes and prams. From what people have said, he's been there for months." He took a calming sip of tea, "I wonder if it's time to have another look at the secrecy acts. Perhaps... perhaps we needn't hide any more."
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Monday, May 28, 2001:
Columbus, Ohio, The Ohio State University Library: 07:49 (GMT-5)
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Magdalena Morton set down her purse and the insulated bag with her lunch. Pushing the button, she looked through her mail as the computer booted, sorting out the bills from the flyers and memos. Logging in, she went to get a cup of tea, sipping it as she walked back to her desk, stopping short when she saw she had 'Carson' email.
Opening the folder, she quickly scanned the subject line, 'Three dots in her ellipses – important, but not urgent' she thought. She glanced through the usual babble, hitting 'Print' so she could decrypt the message:
AM sends: "MW & co buying tungsten & futures. Strongly suggested - Full reason end of term." JM: "Like gold strong buy keep private."
'Interesting...' she mused, as she shredded the scrap of paper the decrypted message was on. Folding the original message, she went to look for a book on investing.
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Tuesday, May 29, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 08:53
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Mattie stopped on the way to Alchemy, and gave Julie a quick hug, "Happy birthday!"
"Thanks," she replied. "You know, for the next two days, you and I are the same age."
"Oh, that's cool," Mattie said. "I can't wait to grow up!"
"Mom would say, 'Give it time, dear,'" Julie remarked.
Mattie nodded, "Mine says, 'it will get here sooner than you think.'"
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Professor Lupin looked up from the roll, "Miss Morton... happy birthday, by the by."
"Thank you, sir, but how did you know?"
He looked over his reading glasses at her, "Were you perchance enrolled in the wrong school, Miss Morton? This is a school for witches and wizards, therefore magic is practiced." She blushed, and he smiled, raising a sheet of paper, "The minutes for tomorrow's staff meeting have birthdays for this week and next. Moving on... Mr. Nance is here..."
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Wednesday, May 30, 2001:
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:49
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"... is there any other business? Hogwarts business," Minerva clarified.
"How are you two doing with Mr. Morton?" Pomona asked. "I've noticed Miss Wayne shooting him looks in Herbology."
"Unfortunately, I have it on good authority from Mr. Adams that Mr. Morton will not 'make a move' as he called it, until Miss Wayne's 13th birthday," Severus said. "Which is tomorrow," he added, tapping the sheet with the meeting's minutes.
Ginny snorted, "My dear husband and the honored professor seem to have overlooked something in their romantic plotting." Severus raised an eyebrow, "Do either of you knuckleheads realize that the harder you push Mr. Morton and Miss Wayne, the harder they resist?" Ginny asked sweetly. "Mother said, 'To all things, there is a season.' Let those two find their own."
Severus snorted, "You are saying if we wish them together, we should separate them?"
"Only if you wish the castle brought down about your ears."
Harry glanced at his wife, then at Severus. "It would not surprise me at all if Miss Wayne had a way to do so."
"Likely more than one, but I would not discount Mr. Morton."
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Wednesday, May 30, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 14:46
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A soft 'ping' announced new mail.
To: Mattie Wayne
From: Cassidy Yates
Date: 30 May, 2001
Subject: What's happening?
Look which sleepyhead just woke up! What's happening with you and my supposed killer? Alfred says I'm fit to testify, for all the good it will do, I don't remember much.
Cassidy
Mattie nudged Anne, turning the laptop so she could read the message. "She's awake! When can we see her?"
"See who?" Sprink asked.
Mattie was typing away:
To: Cassidy Yates
From: Mattie Wayne
Date: 30 May, 2001
Subject: Re: What's happening?
Hey, there sleepyhead!
Anne's sitting next to me, ready to run out the door. Malfoy's trial for your murder is scheduled for June 8th, you cut it close! We'll see when we can pick you up if you're interested in testifying.
Mattie
Sprink was using her laptop:
To: Nymphie (Work)
From: Susquehanna Tonks
Date: 30 May, 2001
Subject: Malfoy's trial
Hey, big sis!
Guess who I heard just woke up! Would the murder victim be a useful witness in Malfoy's trial?
Sprink
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Wednesday, May 30, 2001:
London, Charing Cross station, DMLE: 14:53
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Tonk's laptop 'dinged', she cursed softly as she knocked over her teacup, flooding her desk. Fortunately, she had remembered the hover charm on the compulator. She clicked on her mail thing, reading her sister's mail; her mouth dropping open. "Gor..." she whispered to herself, clicking on 'Print'. She ran in her stocking feet to the print thing, waiting while it whirred, producing a sheet of A4. Rapping once on Rufus' doorframe, she breathlessly asked, "Malfoy's trial. We can get a new witness."
His heavy eyebrows lowered. "Who?"
"The victim, um, Yates. She's somehow been raised from the dead."
Scrimgeour shoved back in his chair, "How is this possible? Do we have another dark wizard?"
"Don' think so, my sister would have mentioned it. No, I think this is something with Wayne's ship. April first, she took off like a scalded snitch just after she crossed over."
Scrimgeour's brow creased, "Ah, yes, the time-travel thing," he mused. "Go talk to Donalson in the Crown's office down the hall, he's handling the case. WITH your shoes on, Tonks." She turned to go, he said, "One other thing," and pointed his wand, "'Evansco!' I won't have my people look like gutter trash."
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Showing her ID, Tonks asked the receptionist, "Where's Donalson? I'm assigned to one 'a his cases."
She waved, "Straight back, on the left, across from the gent's." She went back to reading Witch Weekly. Tonks paused for a minute; then shook her head as she threaded her way back, cursing her sore feet.
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Tonks took in the messy office. Donalson was apparently better at hover charms than she was; the young, skinny fellow had files floating in midair, stacked on top of each other. He was also prematurely bald. Sighing, she rapped on the open door frame, "Donalson? I'm Tonks, assigned to the Malfoy murder case."
He started, tearing a few hairs out with his clenched fists. "Eh, Malfoy?" He blinked owlishly, his prominent Adam's apple swerving up and down. He flicked his wand, papers spilling out of folders as they zoomed across the office. "Have a seat, please. What can I do for you?"
Tonks pitied this bloke's secretary. "I just got an email from my sister at Hogwarts. It seems..."
"Yes, yes, that's all very nice, but we have far more to worry about than Quidditch and house pranks. If you wish to reminisce, I'll meet you at ..."
'Bloody tosser' she thought. "Would you like another witness?" she asked sweetly. "If you're not interested..."
"Who, the Wayne chit again?" He snorted, putting his head back down. "Not interested, she's too far off her rocker, filled with tales of starships and other rot."
Tonks settled back, arranging her skirt, "I've been in that starship, but no, I wasn't suggesting Wayne. I was thinking of the victim."
Donalson looked through his thinning fringe of hair, over his spectacles. "Yates, wasn't it? Dead and buried."
"Alive."
His head jerked up, "She took an AK to the heart, and we have a hundred witnesses to the murder. Are you telling me Wayne is a Dark Witch? That's she's raising the dead?"
Tonks sat back, steepling her fingers, then examining her nails. "No."
Donalson slammed his hand on the desk, "Then what the bloody hell ARE you telling me?"
"Typical bloody Gryff," Tonks snorted. She sat up in the worn wooden chair, pulling her sister's email out of her sleeve and tossing it on the cluttered desk. "I'm telling you that Miss Cassidy Yates has been resuscitated from the dead by Miss Wayne's starship, and is available to testify in her own murder. Now, if you're not interested, I'll tell that to Rufus, and wish you the best of luck." She stood, adding, "G'day," as she left.
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Thursday, May 31, 2001:
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms, common room: 04:58
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"You sure this is all right?" Cassidy whispered, pausing to cover someone who had fallen asleep studying.
"'Tis certain to surprise her, especially with the silencing charms we wear," Anne said.
"Not like I was to climb out of the bloody tank to find myself naked in front of some card-playing soldiers!" Cassidy said. Sprink snorted, saying, "Over here, down these stairs."
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Sprink counted down, then ripped the hangings apart, yelling, "'Aqueous...'"
"'Stupefy'" came the whispered word from above, and as they splashed into the soaked sheets, the comment, "When are you lot going to learn to look UP? At least you remembered to use a silencing spell, this year." Mattie disengaged her harness, dropping lightly to the floor. "Second year in a row," she chided, looking over at Connie and Ami Bones. "I hope your pranks are better than these three... 'Enervate'. Hello, Cassidy, welcome back."
"Not what I needed after being dead," she muttered, rubbing her head. "You pack a helluva punch, Wayne."
"I try. Feeling better?"
"Oh, yeah." Cassidy pulled open a small bag, and extracted a disk, "Alfred sent his remote." It floated up, and his holographic head appeared, "Good morning, and Happy Birthday, Captain."
"Thank you, Alfred. What's your status?"
"Unchanged, although some of the troops were asking about 'taking me for a spin'." The remote turned slightly, "Might we consider it?"
The other girls in the dorm were eyeing Mattie with interest. "Possibly, we've only got a couple weeks of school left. How many could we take and where?"
"Possibly a dozen, I shall inquire of the commanders which of their troops they believe should go."
"That will officially make them astronauts," Cassidy said. "I understand it's still a rare distinction now." She sat back against the soaked bed, "We could pair up, one soldier and one student, although personally, I'd rather not go back to Eridani. Rann's nice and close."
"Rann?" Connie asked.
"Sorry, Alpha Centauri five," Cassidy explained. "Eta Cassiopeia III is only twenty lights or so, nice little Class M world, friendly people... well, when I went there. Will go there, sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Tenses with time travel get you all farked up."
"I still find it hard to believe you're from the future," Ami Bones said.
Cassidy shrugged, "I was born Wednesday, March 15, 2367, take it or leave it."
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On the way from the dungeons to breakfast, Sprink said, "Oy, there! Cassidy, I'd like you to meet some o' my favorite Huffies, this is Charlie Adams and Arthur Morton. Guys, this is Cassidy Yates."
Cassidy stared, whispered "Grandpa Arthur?" as her eyes rolled back and she fainted. Charlie caught her, saying "You've got a way with the ladies, mate."
"Let's get her to the Infirmary," Mattie said, explaining, "She does that when she meets someone she recognizes." Sprink levitated Cassidy as Mattie added, "She screamed when she met me."
"It's those dark alleys," Arthur said sarcastically as he wondered, 'Why does she recognize me?'
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Cassidy woke up slowly, stretching slowly under the warm grey blankets. Still in a bit of mental fog, she looked about the room at the white painted stone walls, the unlit torches in their wall sconces, the white metal bed she lay in. She wiggled her toes, realizing she was in a simple nightdress, her clothing undoubtedly in the small dresser next to her.
One of the white screens moved aside, a frowning woman in a long grey and white uniform silently inspecting her. She moved to stand next to the bed, waving her wand over Cassidy. She nodded to herself, giving a small smile as she pulled over a chair. "I am Madame Pomfrey my dear, are you feeling better?"
"Embarrassed," Cassidy admitted.
"That is understandable, although I would suggest apologizing to Mr. Morton."
"I can't!" she said, pulling a pillow over her head. "He's related!"
"That excuses you from common courtesy?"
"No! Yes! No... Oh, it's complicated! I don't want to disappear in a burst of logic."
"It does explain some of your test results though," Poppy said, pulling the pillow Cassidy was hiding behind down.
Cassidy warily clutched it in a hug, "Anything I tell you is private, right?"
"Yes, there's healer - patient trust," Poppy confirmed, casting a privacy spell as she leaned close. "That confirms something I had wondered about. The school's rumour mill has it you are visiting from our future, and your test results showed traits I had seen in two other students. Given the ... close relationship you have with Miss Wayne, and the similarities, I wonder, are you her daughter?"
Cassidy flopped back on the bed again, hiding her face as she muttered, "Great-granddaughter."
Poppy reached over to pull down the pillow again, "That explains a great deal. Please rest assured the only one I shall inform of this is my associate Narcissa. However, I do wonder about the blonde hair – you're not using a 'rechromis' spell, and Miss Wayne's hair is most definitely black."
"A gene from the Morton side of the tree," Cassidy explained, and Poppy nodded. "I mean, before this little trip through time, I just knew them from studying family history, and Gran's journals were a really fascinating read once we hacked her encryption..." She shook herself, "Y'know, I remember this same room from the fourteenth century, and from mine. Doesn't it ever change?"
"We moved the Infirmary a few years ago. What do you mean 'yours'? You've attended Hogwarts?"
"Aaah!" The pillow covered her face again, and Poppy pulled it down again. "I shouldn't have said that!" Poppy gazed at her, and Cassidy wilted. "I swear, these are the exact same beds and everything I remember from the Middle Ages, and from when Healer Muller would patch me up after Quidditch." She sighed, adding, "I never was a very good Chaser, I was more of a Bludger - magnet." She looked at Poppy, "Can I go now?"
"Rest a bit more, please. Take a nap now, and I'll wake you for lunch."
"Same thing Healer Muller would say. Do you all read the same screen?" Cassidy flopped back, Poppy pulling up her blankets and patting her arm.
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"Good afternoon, Miss Yates," Minerva said, adding, "Welcome to my Hogwarts. I hope you don't mind my bringing someone along who wanted to meet you."
"Na, I... Alastair?" Cassidy put down the copy of Hogwarts: A History she had been reading as Minerva pulled up a chair, placing Alastair on the bed. She examined him, commenting, "You're clean!"
"I am? Minerva, have you done something while I've been snoozing?" Alastair harrumphed, adding "Go on, Miss Yates, put me on, we've got a bit of catching up to do." Hesitantly, she reached out and placed him on her head.
"Hello, Miss Yates, welcome back to Hogwarts."
"Hello, Alastair. What do you mean, welcome back?"
"I've touched thousands of minds, Miss Yates; I can recognize my presence, even if it hasn't yet occurred." He chuckled silently. "No, I shan't read the future from your mind, although I do confess to intense curiosity."
"I think that's typical, the people in the fourteenth century felt the same. I think I would, too."
"Ah, yes, I remember them well. I remember sorting each and every one of them, and every conversation I've had. I remember sorting an extremely nervous Miss Oldridge for her first year, and our conversation the night she died in her sleep. She did ask me to pass on a message were I ever to grace your head again. However, I will require your permission to touch your mind to replay that conversation." He added, "Just that, Miss Yates, I won't touch your future memories."
"All right, then." She felt Alastair's gentle touch, and then the memories began...
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Thursday, May 31, 2001:
Hogwarts, Potions class: 09:00
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The door slammed and locked, the class instantly falling silent. Professor Snape looked them over, he then opening the folder containing the roll. As his eyes silently flicked about the class, he whispered, "Miss Wayne, please see me after class." Closing the folder, he added, "Happy Birthday, by the by."
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"You wished to see me, sir?"
He glared at Sprink and Arthur, who quickly left. "Yes, Miss Wayne," he said, passing her a sealed envelope. "Your mother passed this on to me, to give you today."
"What is it, sir?"
"I do not know, although your mother did say it was from your father."
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Mattie stared at the envelope, written on the envelope in her father's hand were the words 'Mattie Wayne – open on May 31, 2001'. Her head jerked up when Sprink asked, "Gonna open it?"
"I ... I don't know. I'm almost afraid to."
Sprink snorted, and stood up. A minute later, Tomas sat next to Mattie, and laid his hand on her shoulder. "I am here, my sister. Open the letter."
She took a deep breath, then slit the top, extracting several sheets.
May 31, 1999
My beloved daughter -
I'm sitting here in my office, on your first birthday away from home, away from family. If you're reading this today, it's your thirteenth birthday, and you're officially a teenager, officially a young woman.
I'd like to say how very proud I am of you, and how...
Mattie burst into sobs, crumpling the letter into her waist as Tomas pulled her into a gentle hug, letting her cry on his shoulder. He gently extracted the letter from her grip, refolding it and placing it back in the envelope as she cried.
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Saturday, June 2, 2001:
Hogwarts, Astronomy tower roof: 10:34
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Mattie straddled the stone bench, laptop in front of her, and looked over the parapet while it booted. If she looked down, she could see where the Yates had parked all those centuries ago. 'It almost seems like a dream,' she thought, then chided herself, putting herself back on task.
She recalled a part of her father's letter to her: 'I suggest you do a self-evaluation, listing tasks, the pros and cons of each, and decide how much effort you need to put into it.'
'Finish school' she wrote, crossing it out to write 'Finish Hogwarts':
An education is important to my success in life;
An education is not only about the subject matter, but how to succeed;
My family expects me to be educated;
An education is necessary for my future plans.
Arrowhead and Ballycastle take up a great deal of time;
I don't know how much time I'll have for college.
Leaving some space, she wrote 'College';
I don't know what I'll major in – business, I presume. What major, though, prepares me for colonizing the stars?
Where would I go to school? Gotham? London?
I like London, but Gotham is home. London would be more useful, though.
Leaving some more space, she took a breath, then wrote 'BatClan':
Do I want to continue Dad's mission? His obsession?
I think Mom is doing it out of a sense of duty.
I can help people, but can I help more with Arrowhead?
She bit her lip, then left some space, and wrote 'Arrowhead':
This can be the future of the human race, or one of the most collossal mistakes in history. How do I get the first, and not the second?
How much should I rely on Cassidy?
This is an enormous roll of the dice, and I'm scared as hell. WHAT IF I SCREW THIS UP?
A bit more space, and then simply 'Ring':
A very useful tool, but I can't stand the Guardian's 'don't care' attitude about the slavery problem.
If I keep it, I'll need to accept missions from the Guardians, I can't pick and choose them. This will affect Arrowhead and school.
If I give it back, will there come a time (almost certainly!) when I'll regret giving it up?
Which is more important, Arrowhead and school, or saving lives as a GL?
'Sprink':
Best bud. I want her at my back. Would I do anything for her? Yep. Would she and her family do anything for me? Yep.
Lastly, the simple word, 'Arthur':
Pigheaded. Brilliant. My soul-mate? He has my back, I know. Stubborn. Keeps me from getting a swelled head. Well grounded. Nice family. Proud. Secret-keeper without my asking him. Would I kill for him? Possibly. Would he kill for me? If needed, definitely.
Mattie saved the file, encrypting it, lost in thought.
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