"No."

Ginny's voice shook.

Harry turned back to her; the few freckles she had sprinkled on nose and cheeks stood out starkly against a pale face.

"No?" he asked. "No, what?"

"No, we haven't gone back in time. That's impossible."

Harry traded another glance with Sirius. Annoyance filtered through him at Ginny's outright disbelief. What did she know of it? "Well, what do you—"

Sirius cut him off, saying, in a far gentler tone than Harry had managed: "Ginny, we have no idea what the Unspeakables do, and we do know that some manner of time travel is possible. You have to understand that—"

"I don't have to understand anything," Ginny said fiercely, folding her arms across her chest. "There are other things it could be—"

"Like what?" Harry demanded.

"Harry, you aren't helping," said Sirius. It was suddenly over-crowded in this alcove with an angry Ginny and an irritated Sirius. A sudden, crushing difficulty to draw in a deep breath afflicted Harry, and he spun around, placing his hands on his knees and trying to suck in a breath. But it did not help, not much; Sirius and Ginny were now arguing in low voices.

"—and when was the last time you were in Diagon Alley?" Ginny asked. "How do you know they didn't rebuild that – that—"

"I know it because they were my friends," said Sirius. "There weren't any of them—"

"You knew all their second cousins? Their third cousins? Their American, Brazilian, Venezuelan cousins?" Ginny shot back. "You take that as fact?"

"You saw the date."

Harry slipped out of the alcove altogether. Diagon Alley was stumbling awake. The twin scents of coffee and breakfast twined by him; his stomach rumbled, despite everything. Could it possibly be that they had been swept into the past? And – if not – what other explanation was there? Why had everyone disappeared? Why did everything seem different? Even the air around him seemed different: heavier and carrying more stink of car exhaust than he was used to. The Time Turners and the tremendous and complicated magic they possessed seemed nothing compared to this. Surely there was no magic strong enough to pull three people back twenty years in time…

His thoughts continued to chase one another as more and more wizards and witches streamed by them. But he kept coming back to befuddlement and he finally let go, dropping his head back against the brick wall and breathing evenly through his nose.

"—it's absolutely preposterous—"

Ginny was still at it; she and Sirius were having a proper go at each other.

"It isn't. I mean, I can't explain it, Ginny, but I haven't—"

And then – just at that moment – a familiar, strident voice cut through the morning air as a group of people passed just ahead of him.

"—packed with witches and wizards, of course—"

Harry swung around. Behind him, Sirius and Ginny's voices cut off as though with scissors. The speaker appeared between the shoulders of two robed wizards. Two small red-headed boys with silvery leashes wrapped around their bellies capered in front of her, leaping up and down. Another small boy, this one attached to her with a sling, peered around with wide eyes. Pure astonishment welled up within him.

Heart hammering, he took a few stumbling steps forward. The small family stopped, and so did Harry, while the young mother held up a scroll and squinted at it. "This says we've got to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies, but I haven't a clue where that would be—"

"Mummy!" shouted the oldest. "I KNOW WHERE IT IS!"

"Me too! Me too!"

The baby waved plump fists and blew a raspberry.

His mouth gaping open, Harry could hardly reconcile the sight of a young Molly Weasley with her three oldest children. She looked hardly older than Ginny!

Then, he was shoved aside, as Ginny barreled past him.

"Mum!" she shouted.

Molly whirled around and dropped her scroll. In the next instant, she'd drawn her wand. "Get behind me, boys," she ordered.

Behind Harry, Sirius swore under his breath.

Ginny did not heed this. She shook her arm and pointed at the watch that circled her wrist. "Mum! It's me!"

"Clearly not," Molly said coldly.

"But—"

"Step back from my sons, or I will teach you a different word to call me—"

"I beg your pardon," said Sirius, striding forward, brushing past Harry. "I do apologize for the disruption of your morning." Harry stared at his suddenly straight back in disbelief. "My young – niece, here, was – was hit with a very powerful Confundus charm—"

"I have not—"

But Harry had given himself a shake, found his way to Ginny's side and clapped his hand over her mouth. "She has," he said loudly. "It was my fault. I didn't mean to."

"And now she's been calling everyone Mum," said Sirius.

Molly's fierce expression faltered; a bit of pity had her lips pursing. "Well… if she's been hit that badly…"

"If it lasts even a bit longer, we'll take her to St. Mungo's," said Sirius.

Finally, the wand was put away. Harry kept his hand over Ginny's mouth. It was the closest they'd ever stood together: Harry was practically hugging her from behind, though he had never hugged someone who was quite so stiff before. But he could not let her go. It was a bad idea, letting Ginny at the younger version of her mother. Harry knew very little about time travel, but he knew that bit. If Hermione were here, she could tell them a lot more.

Though she'd be having to restrain Ron, he thought.

"I'm sorry for that," Molly was saying; the babe in her arms, who must be Percy, began to cry. She smoothed his curls and kissed the side of his head. "We never come here anymore, but the boys have been so good, and they have a good deal on training brooms."

"I understand," Sirius said smoothly.

"Arthur – my husband – says I'm much too reactionary, but honestly!"

"These are trying times," Sirius agreed.

"Are you going to keep quiet?" Harry hissed in Ginny's ear.

When she nodded, he let her go and stepped back, nearly tripping as he did so. This made Bill and Charlie laugh.

"Yes, and – what was your name again?" Molly asked, brushing her hair back.

"Ah, I'm a Black," he said, giving her a charming smile. "But don't hold that against me. I'm not really one of them. But I must be getting my – niece and nephew home…"

"Yes," said Molly, looking bemused, "yes. Well, good luck with that."

"Indeed," said Sirius. "And good luck with your children!"

All four of them waved, even the baby, and were soon swallowed up by one of the curves of the alley. Harry watched them go, dull astonishment still thudding through him. Molly must have thought him a simpleton: he thought he saw her cast one last pitying look at him, just before she'd turned a corner, but it might have been for Ginny's benefit more than his.

"You told her your name," said Harry.

"I did, yeah," said Sirius, unconcerned. "Just my last one, and there are enough of us…"

"She didn't know me," Ginny whispered, moving to stand in the center of the cobble-stoned street, ignoring the others slipping by her. "She didn't know me."

"Well, she wouldn't, would she?" Sirius said acerbically. "Since it's the 70s, and she hasn't even got a—"

But just then, Ginny did something Harry had not seen her do in years: she burst into tears. A choked sob emerged from her and tears streamed down her face. The storm lasted a bare ten seconds before she pulled it together, shaking her head briskly.

"Well, then," she said, in a watery voice. "It's the 70s. What do we do now?"

"Same thing we did in the 90s," said Sirius, "we find a place to hide."

Sirius was not joking. Without stopping again, he took both of them by the shoulder and pressed them back against the gathering crowd. There was another, smaller entrance to Diagon Alley here at the back of it. He ushered them through the very thin slats of a fence, and they found themselves standing in a bus stop. Blank-faced Muggles shifted and made way from them. Sirius frog-marched them up the street, peering down one street and then another, before shaking his head and hurrying onward.

"Are we going to Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked, when the buildings around them segued from office buildings to handsome townhomes. He had no idea where in London they might be.

"We can't really go there, can we?" Ginny said pointedly. "Sirius's mum and dad will be there…"

"And my older brother, Regulus," added Sirius. "He's never moved out…"

"Well, then," Harry said grumpily, "where are we going? For food?"

"I'm looking for a private spot to Apparate," said Sirius, exasperated. But then, stopping, he said: "But you're right, we've got to get food."

Harry thought they might find a diner and have a proper breakfast. Instead, Sirius led them to a corner store. "Stay out here," he muttered. Five minutes later, he was back with an armload of crisps and other food that came in bags. Then they were off again, moving through London, searching – searching – for a spot that Sirius deemed private enough.

"This'll have to do," he announced finally. "Just duck in there…"

Harry, who had never Apparated before, was apprehensive. "We're taking all of that?"

"Stuff it all in your pockets," Sirius said, passing out bags. Trading a glance with Ginny, Harry did as asked, stuffing everything down his front, feeling grumpy as he did so. He obeyed again when Sirius ordered them to grip tight his arms. There they were, standing in the small side yard of a townhouse, gathered together in what must look to Muggles like a group hug between three people. Again, the scent of stale booze and tobacco wafted toward him. Coughing, Harry gripped Sirius's upper arm tight, hoping this would be quick…

Then, Sirius turned on the spot, and dragged him into darkness. Harry was going through a tube that was much too small for his body. His lungs compressed and threatened to squeeze out of his mouth; they almost did so, except, in the very next instant, they were standing on a rocky hilltop under a pale blue sky. Harry fell away from Sirius and Ginny, staggered to the side, and leaned over. The nausea abated with a swiftness that stole his breath.

"Where are we?" he asked, still bent over his knees.

"Move your head a little to the right," Sirius said.

Harry did so, after muttering something unkind about his godfather under his breath. There was Hogwarts, off in the distance, looking about the size of a toy castle beside a lake the size of a puddle. And there was Hogsmeade, a little closer; Harry could see smoke coming out of chimneys: it was cold in Scotland, even in the depths of summer. There was a chill wind on his back, pushing through his robes.

"Are we near your cave?" Harry asked.

"Cave?" Ginny repeated.

"Remember when everyone was terrified of him? This was where he was hiding," said Harry.

"Not quite right here, but close enough. I didn't want to risk Apparating directly in there, just in case it wasn't as spacious in the 1970s as it is – was? – in 1994."

Ten minutes later, after clambering around on rocks, Sirius pronounced it good enough. As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw that it was a rather large space. The ceiling loomed above him; grimacing, he thought of all the bats that must be in here, all their gleaming little eyes staring down at him from their perches. Sirius had kept up a steady stream of grim chatter. It echoed so oddly that Harry did not want to listen to any of it. So he took out a bag of crisps, settled himself with his back against the cave wall, and ate them one by one, allowing the sound of his own chewing to overcome that of Sirius's talking…

Once his belly was full, Harry leaned back against the stone. Exhaustion swamped him. "I hope you aren't planning we should go see Dumbledore right now," he said, eyes falling half-closed. "I don't think I'd making it unless you were levitating me."

Sirius looked at him, brows raised. "Dumbledore?" he said quietly.

"Yeah," said Harry. "I need to sleep first…"

"And I'm not sure it's wise to go to Dumbledore," Sirius said firmly.

Harry sat forward.

"What?" Ginny said blankly. "Not go to Dumbledore?"

Harry looked at her. The same dumbfounded questions he had all of a sudden were reflected back at him. They were trapped in 1977, nearly twenty years away from where they were meant to be. This was not just a matter of being trapped in the countryside and a wand flick away from being rescued by the Knight Bus. Harry could think of no magic that could do this: their best hope was that Dumbledore would. But Sirius didn't want to go to him?

"We have no idea what the implications are of our presence in the past," said Sirius. "We have to think of our actions… what if we do something that affects the future?"

Harry tried to cudgel his thoughts into order. Before he could, Ginny piped up with: "You mean, us meeting Dumbledore could make it so we were never born?"

"I – maybe not so dramatic as that," said Sirius. "But listen – Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, but even he makes mistakes sometimes—"

"Like making me do lessons with Snape," Harry muttered. There was something in Sirius's words… there was something resonating there, underneath all the shock.

"It's… safer for everyone if we try to limit who we see, who glimpses us, who we talk to," said Sirius, eyes sliding away from Harry's. It was an oddly furtive gesture from someone who sounded so convincing. And hadn't Hermione said similar things when they had used her Time-Turner to rescue the man squatting across the cave from him?

"Can we go back to what mistakes Dumbledore was meant to have made?" Ginny's voice sliced through the moment.

"He isn't perfect," said Sirius.

"He had me doing private lessons with Snape," Harry told her. "It was meant to have me closing my mind, but look what happened… we were all nearly killed—"

"But was Dumbledore wrong to want you to learn whatever it was Snape was supposed to be teaching you?" Ginny pressed.

"No, but he doesn't reckon Snape as awful as he actually is," said Harry, getting heated now.

"Well, yeah, but I'm not sure—"

"I think we should discuss this and come up with a consensus later," Sirius cut in. "I just think we should… explore other avenues before we place the future in danger." His voice dropped into a range of great bitterness. "He'd likely lock us in a room somewhere and not let us out until he's figured everything out. We could spend the next twenty years in there, kept in, not allowed out, imprisoned…"

Discomfort squirmed in Harry's belly.

"Now," Sirius was saying, "let me conjure some beds for us… Ginny, you'll want a curtain, too…"

"I can help," Harry said hastily, struggling to his feet, only to slump back down when Sirius shook his head.

"You can't," he said regretfully. "You've still got the Trace on you… it wouldn't due to catch the Ministry's attention, would it?"

"The Trace?" Harry said, fidgeting with his wand.

"The Trace, Harry!" Sirius said, now grown impatient.

"It's what the Ministry uses to track underage magic," Ginny explained, then yawned so hard it seemed to crack her face.

"You could have just said—"

But Sirius was not minded to listen to him any longer. Three beds spun into existence and tumbled to the stone floor. Sirius situated them, setting one a bit further than the others, and conjuring a curtain to go around it. Harry would not have minded a bit of privacy himself, but did not say a word. Piles of blankets appeared at the foot of each bed. Once Ginny had disappeared behind her curtain, Harry stripped out of his robes, stretched out on the bed, and closed his eyes.

As long as the day had been, as long as it had been since he had slept, as exhausted as he felt in every limb, sleep was elusive. And I haven't had any sleep for twenty years, Harry thought, after an hour of laying still as a log, pretending to the others that he was unconscious. Or is it that I won't have sleep for another twenty years? He toyed with post-time travel conjugation for a bit, until he grew too tangled up in it to continue. The others' soft snores filled the cave.

It was then that his thoughts returned to Dumbledore. And why shouldn't Sirius be bitter about Dumbledore's treatment of him over the last year? Sirius was like Harry… he needed to be doing, acting, helping, not stuck somewhere. He'd spent enough time in prison, Sirius had… And there was some truth in it. What if Dumbledore did lock them away so they couldn't change anything? His fists clenched, right hand tightening on his wand, which he could not bear to let go of. If they were in 1977, there were quite a few changes that could be made…

Harry did not know when his fantasies turned to dreams, but at some point, they did. The quiet sounds of Sirius and Ginny sleeping turned into the sigh of the wind, and he found himself in a place he had never been either waking or sleeping: lonely cliffs verging on the sea. The waves sounded like thunderclaps against the stone. Dumbledore himself was there, yelling at him, gesturing toward the sea. But the wind caught his words before Harry could hear them. Harry kept repeating: I have the invisibility cloak again and again, but Dumbledore did not seem to understand. Then Dumbledore was gone and his parents were there, waving at him just over the edge of the cliff, hovering on their brooms. They were both beaming, gesturing at him, telling him: C'mon, Harry! We're right here!

"Wake up, Harry, Sirius has left."

Harry stammered awake, blinking the vision of his parents out of his eyes, and groping for the glasses he'd left on the pillow. Ginny came into focus; she was holding out a packet of crisps. There was a pinched, pale look to her he hadn't seen since second year; he was not the only one who hadn't slept well, it seemed.

"Sirius… went?"

"Said he wanted to go take a peek at a couple of things," said Ginny.

"Did he take the Cloak?" Harry asked.

"Nope," she said, shrugging.

Harry took the packet of crisps and tore into it. A couple spilled to the floor and Harry left them there. He found himself longing for something green. "I hope he gets food while he's out," he said, mouth full of crisps. "We can't live on crisps forever."

"I think there's some beef jerky left in the bag," said Ginny, listless. Harry watched her move away, settle at the mouth of the cave, and wrap her arms around her knees.

It occurred to him that he could ask if she was okay, but it seemed to him a silly question. Of course she wasn't okay. How could she be? She'd gone off with him on a rescue mission, only to be ambushed by Death Eaters and then sucked into a magical veil and dumped so far into the past that her own mother hadn't recognized her. It would be silly of him to ask if she was okay… how could she be?

"Are you okay?" The words came out of his mouth, despite his best efforts to keep them in.

She looked back at him, mouth open a little. "I think… as okay as I could be. I guess."

As soon as Harry got up off the bed, it disappeared with a small pop, leaving him swaying and nearly falling over. He grabbed his robes, grateful he'd had loose trousers on, and pulled them over his head. Swiping crumbs off his front, he moved to the back, pulled out a bottle of water, and drank half of it. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he headed to the mouth of the cave.

"I'm sorry," he said, squinting outward. It was deep night, so deep that even the stars seemed swallowed by the darkness. There was a shushing sound, too, as though a stream or river flowed not too far away.

"For?" she asked.

"For everything," he said, gesturing. "For getting you to go over to the Ministry… for whatever the veil did—"

Ginny was quiet for quite a while. "I'm trying to work out how any of that was your fault," she said finally. "But I can't seem to figure it out. You didn't do any of this. I dunno if even You-Know-Who was to blame for what happened – why we're here."

"But I was the one who caused it," said Harry. There was a waist high rock behind him, and he sat on it, letting his feet dangle. "If I'd just… It was awful, having Snape in my head."

"Even worse than having him in the classroom with you, I'm sure," said Ginny. "He's terrible."

"If I'd just been able to do it, to learn Occlumency… he couldn't have tricked me like that." Harry drew in a deep breath of the fresh air. Further back in the cave, the air was stale and thick and smelled the way the inside of his mouth tasted upon first waking up. It was a relief to breathe in the scent of mountains and water and green growing things.

"I still don't think it was your fault," Ginny said. "I think you did the best with the information that you had; I can't imagine why you would expect more of yourself."

Harry chuckled a little. "Maybe you're right," he said. "But still… this is probably the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me."

"And that's saying a lot," she said, chuckling. "I've heard about some of your adventures."

"I've had a couple," he admitted.

"I'm just surprised it's me here with you," said Ginny. "Usually Ron and Hermione manage to get themselves sucked up into things."

Harry's stomach gave a little pang at the thought of Ron and Hermione. "I hope they're okay," he murmured. "I hope they're all okay, that nothing terrible happened after we… left."

"I'm sure they are," said Ginny. "Half the Order was there… they're all okay. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna… they're all okay. I'm sure they're worried about us, though. Mum'll be having kittens."

"Maybe we'll be back before she even knows we're gone," said Harry.

"Maybe," said Ginny. "I still think our best shot is going to Dumbledore—"

"I hadn't noticed," Harry said dryly.

"—but since you and Sirius aren't keen, we're going to be stuck here a while," she finished.

Harry grimaced. "He has a point, though."

Ginny made a small sound.

Perhaps she was about to comment further, but it was the snap of Apparition that halved this small silence. Sirius appeared, breathless, arms heavily laden, and soot upon his face. "Help me with this, would you?" he said, immediately after appearing. Before Harry was entirely ready for it, he had packages dumped into his arms. Sirius had gone out for provisions and had made a stop at the Ministry. "I couldn't get in, though," he said, pointing at his singed face. "I'll have to figure something else out." Then he'd gone to a Muggle market to pick up some food, with apologies that he was not at all like Mrs. Weasley, and could not make a feast from just a few raw ingredients as she could.

They ended up having sandwiches, piling dozens of ingredients onto bread and eating them open-faced. There was little talking after that: Despite the fact he had slept earlier, Harry was tired again, so sleepy that once he ate, there was little he could do except mutter to Sirius about making the beds again. This time, he did not bother taking off his robes; he just stumbled to the hastily-conjured bed and pulled the blankets up and over his head. This time, there were no dreams: No Dumbledore to admonish him, no parents to encourage him, no cliff, no see, only a dark sort of oblivion and a heaviness in his body, as though he were made partly of stone, and this was what had made him sink so deep into sleep that he could not dream.

This time, Harry woke on his own, rising out of sleep with a gasp, sitting up before he truly realized he was awake.

Not long after they woke up, Sirius left again.

Citing the same excuse as last time, he hurried from the cave, this time not leaving globes of light as it was day, and seconds later, only the pop of his Apparition was left of him. That hung in the air for a second before it disappeared.

"I've gotta—"

"Let's get out of this cave," said Ginny, echoing his thoughts. "I can't stand sitting in here a moment longer. And listen – I don't hear any rain, do you?"

Harry shook his head. There was a small sense of disorientation – had he ever spent this much time with Ginny? – before he pulled on his trainers and followed her. It would be nice if Sirius had helped them with a couple of charms that would render their robes clean again, but he had not. There was cave grime swiped up his robes from hem to waist.

By unspoken agreement, once they left the mouth of the cave, they headed to the right. This was the direction from which came the sounds of water, and it was not long before they discovered a deep, swift-moving stream. It was mostly surrounded by boulders, but there was a bit of a beach up a bit further that required only a bit of a climb. Harry thought it might be nice to wash his feet, his hands, his face, and he climbed up the boulders with the ease of a mountain goat, hurrying on toward his goal.

The water, unfortunately, was frigid.

"Cold?" Ginny asked, red-faced, as she pulled herself up the last bit.

Harry, who had leapt in to his ankles, had just finished letting out a blood-curling war cry that had startled several birds out of the trees. He managed to scramble back up onto the rocky bank. His feet were already throbbing with pain.

"It's got to be cold," Ginny said. "We're in the mountains."

"Yeah," said Harry, "I guess I was hoping the sun would've warmed it a little…"

Ginny plucked at her robes. "I'd give a galleon to have a wash," she muttered.

"I'd give ten," Harry said.

A little silence settled over them. Frustrated, but not knowing what he could do about it, Harry flopped onto a rock, snatched up a stick, and began breaking it into little pieces. "Might as well be my wand," he muttered, "I've got about that much use for it." He had it in his pocket, of course.

It was strange. He went a month every year unable to use magic, having to lock up his wand, and hope that he never had cause to need it at the Dursleys. In fact, it was not until the Dementors had come to Little Whinging that Harry had truly needed to use magic. But now – forced back into 1977 – the back of his neck crawled with tension and he kept reaching for his wand. The sense of futility increased every time he forced his hand back to his side. Shredding a stick into twigs was the only respite he had from this.

Time passed. There was not much else to do except keep shredding the twig in his hand. Today, Sirius was staying out even longer than he had the other day. Surely they were not too far from the cave that they would not hear the sound of Sirius returning. Harry could not help but let the sense of ill-use rise in him. Just because he was underage, that meant he had to stay behind, stuck in a cave? Sirius could have used Side Along Apparition again…

You're forgetting that it's harder to do with three people. Harry cast a glance at Ginny, feeling a bit of guilt. It wouldn't be fair to leave her behind. It would be unkind. And yet, he could not help but think that Sirius might have left him behind in order to keep Ginny company.

"I hate this," she burst out, flinging her rock. It shattered against a bent little tree that grew improbably between two boulders. "I hate this! Where is he?"

"I think he's trying to figure out what's going on," said Harry, trying to be fair.

"And he's got to leave us behind so much to do it?" She stood now, and began pacing back and forth. The stream they'd found rushed past, drowning out the worst of her mutters. Watching her, Harry felt a pang of sympathy. "I hate not knowing… how can you stand it?"

"Practice," said Harry. He stood up and dusted off his robes. As they were caked with filth, this helped only a little. For the thirtieth time in the last hour, he wished he could use his wand, wished he'd never heard of the Trace. His trainers pinched his feet and made squelching sounds as he leapt down to stand beside her. Her pacing faltered, and she looked up at him, tucking a strand of bright red hair behind her ear.

"Practice?" she asked, suspicious.

"Yeah, well." He gestured vaguely in the direction of Hogwarts, which was hidden behind a peak. "Ever since I got to Hogwarts, it's been one thing after another. I've always, always had to wait for answers." He pulled a face, thinking of Dumbledore and his behavior this entire past year. There had been secrets kept from him his entire life. The sense of ill-use rose in him again. "And people still don't want to tell me stuff."

"I know all that, Harry," she said, exasperated. "But I also know that you don't always just 'wait for answers', do you? If you did, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't be standing here right now."

The mountains outside Hogwarts were as different from the Chamber of Secrets in the bowels of Hogwarts as it was possible to be. And yet, there between them, was the memory of it. Harry, young and terrified, kneeling beside a pale, near lifeless Ginny: Had Harry waited for any of the professors to act, she likely would have been dead.

He scratched at his collar. "You're right, but—"

"But nothing," she said.

"I can't very well just go running off, can I?" he asked.

"I'm not saying you should," said Ginny. "But I thought you'd insist Sirius tell us what he's on about this morning."

"Everything is different," he said, trying to make her understand. "I don't know this place – we don't know this place." An image of young Molly, looking like Ginny's older sister, rose up in his mind. "The people we do know don't know us. Voldemort was meant to be even more powerful then – now? – than he is in – in our time, isn't he?"

For the first time, she hadn't flinched when he said the name in front of her.

"Yeah," she said. "From the stories, Tom's got a good hold."

"I can't just go… charging into things."

Her shoulders fell. "I just feel like – the longer we're stuck here, the longer we're going to be stuck here."

Harry dropped his twigs and brushed his hands off on his robes. His feet were still cold from their dip, but the stinging sensation was gone. "Once me know more about what's happened, we can act," he said. "You know, maybe it seems like I've just run headlong into adventures, but there was a lot of Hermione telling me what was what. I just… know nothing here. All I know is that we came through the veil, it's 1997, and we aren't supposed to be here. And yet we are."

"I—"

But Ginny's voice was cut off by the sudden rise of water in the stream. A stink came with it, of something decaying, a goat, perhaps. Whatever it was made him flinch away. Light caught the water at just the right time: There within the waters was a body. Its open, staring eyes had a film over them, like cobwebs drawn over the washed-out iris. Greenish bruises covered the corpse.

His mouth was still falling open when clouds scudded across the sky, covering the sun. The corpse disappeared into a shadow, slipping down, out of sight.

Harry swore. "What the fuck was that?"

"What—"

He jabbed a finger at the water. But the corpse was gone, still, having disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. "I saw a—" But now he spoke it out loud, he had sudden doubts. Had his own thoughts conjured the image of a dead body floating down the stream? How could it have appeared and disappeared so quickly? There was a tremor in his hands. He ought not to scare Ginny. "It was a dead animal," he said, finally. Her brow raised. "It looked like it had been skinned."

The body had appeared curiously rent of flesh. In his thoughts, Harry could see where flesh had torn away from cheeks, and the molars that were revealed through the gaps.

"An animal?" she asked, suspicious.

"Yeah," he said, slipping his cold, still damp feet into his trainers. "I don't – I think we should go back and wait for Sirius."

The unease lingered. Harry ushered her ahead of him. His neck began to ache as he kept twisting it around, stomach clenched, wondering if there would be a moment when the corpse rose from the water, blood dripping from it, its arms reaching toward them…

But there was only the sound of running water, their scrambles upon rock, pebbles tumbling against earth, and birds in the sky. And by the time they reached the mouth of the cave, Harry had convinced himself that his eyes had been playing tricks on him, and that he hadn't seen a corpse floating in the stream.

HPHPHPHPHP

Author's Note: Here is chapter two! Hope you're enjoying it... I can't promise these updates will continue at pace, but what can I say? I'm eager. Hope you are enjoying!