Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you're having a good time at Hogwarts. As I'm sure you're interested in knowing, Maggie and myself are doing fine. With Brutus now in Azkaban, there has been very little reason for us to worry and it seems like it is going to stay this way for a long time so I must say we are rather content.
Regarding what you and I talked about before you left, it is true that I may know of a way to take care of your particular problem. As Maggie and my friends usually say, a lot of what I know and take for granted is not that clear for many and I tend to forget people just weren't raised like I was. It appears that I once again made this mistake with you and for that I can only apologize. Had I known you were actually looking for a way to go back, I would have told you what I knew immediately.
But then as I was thinking of the best way for me to explain it to you, I remembered what my father used to say when his apprentice was struggling and was begging him for a few pointers.
There are lessons you need to learn on your own.
Back then I thought this was rather mean of him; now however I am convinced he was onto something. Yes, I could tell you and you would know what to do, but would you really understand it? This is the most important thing I know and want to teach it to you properly. Telling you the answer with no context would be, in my honest opinion, pointless.
With such good marks at school, I have no doubt my help is not needed anyway and that you will eventually find a solution far more elegant than mine. A talented wizard like you probably doesn't need a poor little squib like me to tell him what he ought to do.
You can do it, I believe in you!
Patrick Evans
Harry scowled and threw the letter in disgust.
He had spent an entire year looking for a way back. He had read dozens of books on Charms and Divination and was even trying his hand at Alchemy, for how little he understood it. And now that he's been told there definitely was a way for him to go back to his time, he had to find the answer on his own anyway. What was Mr. Evans expecting from him anyway? Was he supposed to make magic watches out of thin air now?
The man probably meant well but Harry was sick of it all. So what if Mr. Evans knew magic nobody else knew? So what if he could learn Divination or Alchemy? So what if he was trying to find anything about that horcrux business? Harry was tired and just wanted to go home.
Albus couldn't stop a yawn when he entered the Defence against the dark arts classroom.
If he wanted to study what he wanted for his defence project without raising suspicion, Albus knew the best option would be to make it look like the person who had chosen this particular subject hadn't been him but his partner. Unfortunately, while he had little doubt he could influence Elphias without the other wizard knowing any better, the sixth year student knew he first needed to find what he was looking for.
He had never expected this part to be easy. From the beginning, Albus had been painfully aware of his ignorance on this particular topic. Still, part of him had hoped that all these nights spent in the restricted section would give him at the very least a lead.
There was still time, he tried to convince himself as Professor Merrythought started asking the class how their defence project was progressing. It was only October and many students weren't in a much better situation than he was.
Still, when Professor Merrythought asked him if he and Elphias had finally decided what they wanted to study, Albus couldn't stop a wince when he informed her that they hadn't.
"It may not look like it but you have very little time," Professor Merrythought told him. "If you haven't even started working on your project by November, I'm not sure you'll be able to finish it."
Albus weakly nodded.
Once Professor Merrythought had turned her attention to another student, the person next to him whispered, "You really haven't started on your project?"
He hummed, "That's what I said, didn't I?"
"Sorry, I just find it odd, that's all."
He gave him a humourless smile. "I know this is difficult to believe but even I can struggle from time to time, Harry."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I was just asking, you know?"
"Well, don't," he concluded before turning his attention back to Professor Merrythought.
When it was Harry's turn and the wizard told the class in a dead voice that he and Horace were still looking he couldn't stop a satisfied smile. At least he wasn't the only one struggling here.
"I suppose that's to be expected," their defence teacher mused. "You only have one word and no information of what it could potentially mean so it's not surprising you two don't know where to look at the present moment."
It was funny, Albus couldn't help thinking. If Harry and Horace's problem was that they only had a word yet had no idea what they were truly looking for, his was that he only had a vague idea of what he was seeking yet no word to name it.
Harry's mood didn't get any better when he left the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom; the fact that his next class was Divination and that he had to deal with Phineas Black didn't help either.
If the two wizards had been pointedly ignoring each other since their argument, the fact the two of them were Professor Mesmer's only sixth year students meant they had no choice but to grudgingly pretend everything was fine during class.
In hindsight, it should have been obvious that their teacher had never been fooled and had just been humouring them.
"I'm only going to say this once," Professor Mesmer gravelly said them once Harry hadn't quite managed not to snap when the Slytherin had pointed out a mistake in his arithmancy reading, "whatever problem the two of you have, I expect you not to bring it here. I need you at your best for All Hallow's Eve, so either the two of you learn to not let your emotions get the better of you, or you find a solution, understand?"
Harry and Black both winced. "Yes, sir," they mumbled.
When class finally ended and they finally left the classroom, Black looked at him and sighed. "I guess we've got to talk about it after all."
Harry didn't answer.
"I just- I don't get you," the Slytherin confessed. "Why are you so mad?"
"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Harry drawled. "You don't get it."
Black incredulously looked at him. "Do you even listen to yourself here, Potter? You're not- oh how mature!" he exclaimed when Harry walked away. "You may try to run away, but you'll have to accept you're the one in the wrong here!"
Never, Harry furiously thought.
When Harry entered the Common room in a foul mood, Albus couldn't help but sigh.
Deep down, he knew he had been unfair with the Gryffindor earlier. The thing was that while Albus could be pleasant most of the time, he had never quite managed to keep the change when things were not going his way. Still, while he hadn't been as nice as he would have liked, Albus didn't feel like what he did warranted the other wizard's ire either. In fact now that he was thinking about it, Albus seriously doubted he was the reason for Harry's current mood.
Closing his eyes, he tried to figure out what this was all about. Finally he opened them and said, "If you're expecting Phineas to apologize for not helping you when your father went after you, I can assure you that you're going to wait a long time, Harry."
Harry sharply turned his head and Albus couldn't help a grin at the sight of his dumbfounded face. "How did you-"
"You've just had Divination," he slyly said, "and I know that you and Phineas are Professor Mesmer's only students. I also couldn't help but notice that while you were always working together in Defence Against the Dark Arts the previous year, you did not decide to do the same for your defence project and have in fact been pointedly avoiding each other."
Harry dazedly shook his head. "Y-Yes but the part about his father-"
"This is an educated guess on my part, I must confess. Still, you only started avoiding Phineas after your detention and I cannot see any other reason."
Could he go further? he suddenly wondered. There should be no reason for Harry to blame the Slytherin for what his father did, so what was he missing?
"Phineas was the one who told you Headmaster Black wanted you to come to his office," he carefully began. "I'm not sure why he called you but you told me you had a disagreement and that's why you got detention. I know you're not the sort of person to blame somebody for something his father did so I feel like you've got the impression Phineas knew there was going to be a problem and he didn't inform you." Harry blinked and Albus started giggling. "That's it, isn't it?"
Harry chuckled. "You're brilliant," he said as he sat next to him, "has anybody told you that?"
He grinned. "I may have heard it once or twice. Though I confess I rather like being praised."
Harry softly smiled. "When I came here, I didn't have a knut on me," he informed him. "And I got lucky that Dippet was willing to give me a scholarship so I could buy my things. Problem was, the headmaster had never agreed so he wanted me to leave the school until Black talked him out of it. Still, I was supposed to pay back the money I got. That's why he called me. I had the money but he pretended I was supposed to for interest. I refused to back down so I got punished. The next day I found out he'd known all along this was going to happen and he wanted the memory of our confrontation."
"How rude of him."
"So you agree he's the one in the wrong?"
Albus was about to acquiesce when he suddenly thought about something that made him pause. "I'm not saying you shouldn't have talked with Headmaster Black before it was too late, but I find it strange that he actually asked for you to pay interest."
Harry gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"
"I may be wrong, and I naturally don't know him better than his own son, but Headmaster Black has never struck me as the sort of man who'd waste his time on grabbing some knuts when he has more important things to do. Why wouldn't he drop the matter when he has his money and relatively little to gain? Why is he wasting his time on you when he notoriously hates dealing with students?"
"Well, thanks."
He chuckled. "Sorry, but you must admit the whole thing is odd. Headmaster Black taking care of the matter when it should be Professor Dippet, Phineas knowing this was going to happen and expecting you to give him the memory of your encounter, even Phineas defending you the previous year is strange when you think about it."
"I thought the same, back then. Still, to think he was just doing it to get a good laugh at my expense..."
Albus felt forced to say, "I don't particularly like Phineas, but I don't actually believe he's actually that sort of person."
"What other reason could it be?"
Albus didn't answer.
"Also, what do you mean you don't particularly like him?"
Albus hesitated a second. "It's not that I dislike him, it's just..." He grimaced. "I suppose you could say I've never particularly liked how he and everybody else were quick to remind us he was the Headmaster's son."
Harry looked confused. "What does it have to do with anything?"
He sighed. "You must understand, when I first came to Hogwarts everybody was certain he was going to be the best student in our year. Don't get me wrong, Phineas is far from being stupid but..."
"But he's not as clever as you," Harry quietly finished.
Albus numbly nodded. "My first months at Hogwarts were without a doubt the worst time I had there. I was sort of a pariah because of my family, and I was a Half-blood. Compared to me, Phineas with his highly respected father and his pure blood..." He sighed. "I suppose that was to be expected that the students and even the teachers preferred him over me."
There was something almost sad in Harry's eyes. "I never noticed."
"Well it was only the first year," he felt obliged to say, "and I did work hard to turn the tide in my favour but…"
But Albus knew deep down that even that wasn't enough. Albus often felt like Headmaster Black hated him because he was the reason why his child wasn't the best student in the school. Sometimes he even wondered why he was still hoping he'd get the Head Boy position when he was certain the man was just going to give him to his son. Albus could be the cleverest, the most gifted person in the room, the fact that he was a half-blood and Perceval Dumbledore's son meant some people would always prefer somebody else over him.
Harry was still thinking about what Albus had said the next day.
He had always hated the fact that a witch as brilliant as Hermione was hated because she was a muggleborn, but the fact people had once done the same with Albus Dumbledore himself was inconceivable. So what if he was not a pureblood? He was Albus Dumbledore, who would even dare to hold his blood status against him?
More than that, he had misunderstood his relationship with Black. Albus being a rather amicable person, Harry had never once considered the possibility that he and Phineas Black may not be on good terms. Had he known the pain the Slytherin had caused him, Harry wouldn't have tried to befriend him.
Harry looked at his empty teacup and sighed. No matter what he thought about the Slytherin, they needed to clear the air. He might have avoided the discussion the day before, Harry knew he couldn't run anymore. But what could he say to him? Harry didn't feel like he was in the wrong even now, so how could they make up when both of them were so sure to be in the right?
Harry pondered these questions the whole day. Yet despite all that he was no closer to an answer when the last class of the day finally ended.
When he saw the Slytherin leaving the classroom Harry painfully closed his eyes and cursed under his breath before following him.
He was never going to find a solution and there would never be a proper moment, so better to end it here.
Harry hated Black's smug face when he told him they needed to talk. "Ready to talk like adults now, Potter?" The Slytherin asked once they had found an empty classroom to talk. "Are you willing to admit that you're wro-"
"Why did you help me back then?" Seeing his puzzled look he précised, "Last year, when your dad wanted to kick me out, you talked to him and made sure I could stay here. Why did you help me?"
Black paused and gave him a puzzled look. "I'm not sure I understand. Why are we talking about this now?"
"Because now that I think about it, you sure helped me loads back then."
The boy had appeared in his father's office right on cue, he had said the proper thing at the proper time. He had even gone as far as telling Harry he needed his help and given it even when Harry had refused. So why would he basically do the exact opposite a year later and not even spend five minutes warning him? Why had Phineas Black had gone so far to him then?
"Why do I feel like you insured I stayed at Hogwarts just so I could do something for you?"
"You're joking."
Yet there was some hesitation in his voice.
Harry tried to remember what he had asked from him a year ago. What price Harry supposedly had to pay for his support. When he finally remembered he froze.
"Did you… Did you just want me to be with you in Defence just so I couldn't be with Albus?"
And even though Black scoffed and pretended that wasn't it, Harry knew he'd hit bullseye.
It seemed utterly stupid, and perhaps that was why he's never considered it, but if the relationship between Albus Dumbledore and Phineas Black was more strained than he had first believed, then maybe the reason why the other wizard had helped him was something as petty as making sure the one person who had managed to beat Albus Dumbledore himself didn't leave.
It was even the very thing he had used to convince Phineas Nigellus Black not to kick him out.
The wizard didn't say anything and Harry incredulously chuckled. "That's so stupid. What next? I wasn't supposed to duel with him just so he couldn't 'save his honour' and pretend my win was just a fluke?"
The silence was deafening.
Harry was livid. "You must have had a good time seeing I was the only undefeated wizard in our duelling competitions. I mean, you had to bear with me but that was for a good cause, wasn't it?"
"That's not-"
"And now that I've done what I was supposed to do, I guess it was fine to wash your hands of me and let me anger your father for one last laugh."
"No I ju-"
"Why, maybe you were hoping I'd make your dad mad because you don't have the balls to do it yourself."
And Black snapped. "Do you know what it's like to be his son? To have everybody putting all these expectations on your shoulders and being supposed to be better than Albus sodding Dumbledore ?"
"Don't make yourself the victim here."
The Slytherin laughed. "You think I don't know what he and everybody else think of me? They may be kissing my arse to get in his good books, but I know none of them give a shit about me. I think our project should be about werewolves and the effect the moon has on their transformation, Black . Geez, do you really believe I don't know they proposed this subject because that's Father's latest fancy? Everybody is using me because of Father and Dumbledore so I don't see why I shouldn't-"
"When have I ever tried to use you?"
Seeing the other wizard's pausing and Harry couldn't help but snort. "I don't give a damn about your dad, Black. He's just a petty man who'll only be remembered as an annoying portrait. But let me tell you this: if you're treating all the people who try to befriend you like you treated me, don't be surprised if the only people who can stand being with you are just doing it to get something from you."
Phineas flinched. Gripping his left arm he murmured, "That's- That's not- I didn't..."
Harry loudly sighed. Truth be told, the whole thing was so pathetic he couldn't even bring himself to be mad.
"Professor Mesmer doesn't want to be at odds with each other," Harry reminded him, "but at no point has he ever said we need to make up or be friends. I can work with you, but if you plan to use me like that again maybe it's better if we don't interact the rest of the time."
Ignoring his stricken expression, Harry turned around and headed to the door. When his hand was on a doorknob, a voice behind him shouted out, "Potter, wait!"
When Harry turned his head, the other boy was biting his lips. "What?"
"You… You've got to understand, I just-"
Harry rolled his eyes and opened the door.
"Alright, I'm sorry, ok?" he screamed. He shakily ran a hand through his black hair and Harry couldn't help but notice he had never seen him so tired. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "You're right, I shouldn't have used you to get even with my dad and Dumbledore. It's just-" He painfully closed his eyes. "I can't afford to stand up to Father and no matter how hard I try people cannot stop comparing me to Dumbledore." He wetly chuckled. "It's funny how everybody is upset with me. To the purebloods, I'm a sham because I cannot put that filthy half-blood in his place and to Dumbledore fanatics I'm just a fraud who only got what he has because he was born in the proper family. So when I saw Dumbledore's face that day you beat him, I thought..." He dropped his head. "I guess it doesn't matter."
For a long time, Harry didn't say anything, too busy considering what to do. Finally he reluctantly said, "No matter what your reasons were, I wouldn't be here if this weren't for you."
Phineas sharply raised his head.
He uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck. "And it seems like you truly regret what you did, so maybe I can let this go this time. Just… Don't manipulate me ever again."
Truth be told he couldn't understand why he couldn't just stand up to his father or tell everybody what he had on his mind, but perhaps that was why Phineas was a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor.
The small smile Phineas gave him seemed more genuine than any grin Harry's ever seen him make. "Got it."
On the 31st of October, an owl came to the Great Hall with a small wrapped box on its leg.
Not knowing who could have sent him anything, Harry suspiciously looked at the package before taking his wand and casting a few counter-jinx. There was no reason for Harry to receive anything, so maybe it was just some prank and the box would explode on him the moment he pulled the ribbon.
Albus paled. "Don't tell me… Is your birthday actually today?"
Harry stilled. "You know what? I think it is."
When he had to fill the paperwork to make his stay at Hogwarts official the year before, Harry had decided to write he had been born on the 31th of October 1880. He hadn't thought much of it, but he supposed that if anybody in this time wanted to wish him a happy birthday they'd definitely do it on Halloween.
Albus looked like somebody's just cursed his owl. "Wh-Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday? I would have given you something had I known."
"It's fine, I don't care about gifts."
Not paying to Albus' sad 'Don't try to console me, I still feel guilty about last Christmas, you know?' Harry slowly pulled the blue ribbon and opened his gift.
There was a folded letter inside the box, and Harry put it aside before carefully taking the crumpled newspaper protecting whatever gift he's just received. Once he saw what it was he gasped.
He had seen it far too many times in the man's hands not to recognize Mr. Evans' watch.
Harry immediately put the watch on the table and took the letter.
I'm aware that the date Mesmer gave me may be a little off considering what we know, but I simply could not miss the occasion to wish you a happy seventeenth birthday. I do not know how it worked where you're from, but it has become traditional here for a wizard to receive a watch when he comes of age. It is vital for a wizard to have a reliable way to keep track of the passing time, my father used to say. For a person lost in time like you are, I suppose this is even truer and that you need a tool which will always remind you what time it is and what you've got to do.
Still, in case you start thinking about doing something extremely rude such as sending my gift back, I suppose I can explain to you why I actually want to give you my watch.
I knew even before you came that the chances of me and Maggie having one day a magical child were extremely low. While I have no problem with the idea of my children being 'muggles', I must admit a part of me is saddened to know there are many things I will never be allowed to share with them. Perhaps this is silly of me to think like this but if I'm not allowed to give my son the only thing I've got left of his grandfather, maybe his descendant can find some use to it.
Anyway, you've now got a very nice watch. I wish I could tell you about all the features my father put in it but I suspect I don't even know half of them so I guess you'll have to find them yourself. I can only hope that you'll enjoy discovering what it can do.
Happy birthday,
Patrick Evans.
Harry's throat tightened.
They barely knew each other, he couldn't help thinking. They barely knew each other yet the man had just given him something that was as precious to him as Harry's own invisibility cloak. What sort of man did that?
"It's a very nice watch," Albus commented as he tried to open it without success. "Considering the quality I have little doubt that the charms on it are a true work of art. You must be very happy with your present."
"Y-Yeah," he wetly chuckled. "Yeah you can say that."
Taking the watch from the prefect's hands, Harry opened it and softly flicked the crystal with his index finger.
"Fascinating," Albus breathed when the numerous hands disappeared to be replaced by the countdown timer. "Utterly fascinating. What does it mean though?"
Harry did the man in his head and snorted. "It means that something's going to happen in Divination tonight."
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Phineas whispered to Harry when they entered the divination classroom and saw the numerous blankets covering the portraits and the mirror in the room. "Why do I feel like something terrible is going to happen?"
Professor Mesmer was pulling the curtains. "That's probably because your third eye is wide open and telling you to run away."
Phineas rolled his eyes.
"You may think I'm messing with you -and I am- but that's mostly it," he murmured. "Your survival instinct knows that something is not right. Considering what I'm planning to do tonight, the fact that you already feel uneasy plays in our favour and raises our chances of success."
The Slytherin seemed to hesitate a moment. "And what are you planning to do tonight, sir?"
"Something I've wanted to try for a long time now. I don't have any talent for it, but with you I feel like we might manage somehow."
He raised his wand and the light coming from the lamps on the ceiling vanished.
"There are things that you should never see," he started saying as he was walking in their direction. "But to those who did, another world presents itself and an entire branch of divination opens its doors for you. A branch of divination that is reviled, one that had its entire practitioners hunted by wizards and seers alike."
In the darkness, Professor Mesmer's eyes almost seemed black.
"Necromancy ."
