DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$
A/N: Enjoy!
CHAPTER TEN: MEETING HAGRID
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11th, 1991 – HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, SCOTLAND, U.K.
Five First Years exited the huge "front" doors of Hogwarts Castle and into the sunlight. They followed a path that led to an iron gate in a long wall that seemed to separate the school grounds from the greater world beyond. But long before they reached the gate, they took a fork in the path to the right and away from the gate. They now began descending a steep hill towards a lake and large forest. A fork to the left would have taken them to the shores of the lake, the same lake they had crossed their first night. But they stayed to the right and soon saw a small hut just on the edge of the forest proper.
"Guess that's Hagrid's place," Harry said.
A wisp of smoke rose skyward from the stone chimney. Harry and the other took that to mean that Hagrid was home as only a fool would live in an apparent tinder box like that hut and leave a fire in the hearth unattended. Then again, it would appear that this magical world was not short on fools. They soon arrived at the door to the hut.
The kids knew a fair amount about Hagrid. First and foremost, they knew he was half-giant which meant that he was very resistant to magic in general and legilimency in particular. He was also an honest and honorable man. They had heard that he was a true friend if you allowed him to be one and would no sooner betray a friend than stop being almost ten feet tall. He was a bit loose with things, particularly after a few drinks, but generally did not volunteer information. His major character flaw was he thought the world of Dumbledore. But according to McGonagall, he was not likely to tell Dumbledore anything unless asked directly and even then only with reluctance. Apparently, admiration was also mixed with a touch of fear or something. If McGonagall were to be believed, Hagrid could not be classified as a Dumbledore confidant.
His "loose lips" were a double edged sword. Hagrid probably knew more secrets about Hogwarts and what went on than anyone and if steered could be all but counted on to let a few slip. But that also meant if they told him too much, that too could slip out. Still, they had been asked to at least make his acquaintance.
"Here goes nothing," Harry said and he knocked upon the door.
"One moment," a voice boomed and a loud and very deep bark was heard. "Oi Fang! Mind yer manners! We've got guests!"
The door to the hut opened and the giant of a man they remembered from Hogsmeade Station appeared in the door. What little of his face that could be seen through the huge, bushy beard was pleasant looking, although it was hard to tell as it took the man a moment to look down and see who had been knocking at his door.
"Why bless me," he said with an obvious smile, "it's 'Arry Potter an' 'is friends, in't it?"
Harry nodded.
"Now let's see then. You'd be Neville Longbottom," Hagrid said pointing to Neville.
"Yes Sir," Neville said politely. "How'd you know?"
"'Cause it's common knowledge 'mongst the staff you lot is thick as thieves an' you bein' the only other bloke," Hagrid laughed. "Even I'm not that thick. An' you don' needs t' be callin' me Sir. Say tha' an' I'm like ter look over me shoulder thinkin' on 'er the professors done snuck in th' back. Come on in yer lot. Been brewin' up some tea, if'n yer in the mood."
"Thanks," Harry said and led the others into the Hut. It was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the door. There were a couple of large chairs and a couch around the front room and a door leading back to what looked to be a kitchen. A couple of tables were also by the chairs and couch and off to one side was a taller table with four chairs around it arguably for meals. One wall was dominated by a large fireplace and a kettle hung over the fire by an iron hook that looked as if it could be swung out of the hearth, which it soon was. Hagrid placed the kettle on a stone near the hearth.
"We'll jus' let 'er cool a bit while we gets acquainted," Hagrid said. "You mus' be Luna Lovegood," he said to the only blonde girl in the room. After she nodded Hagrid said, "Knew tha' 'cause yer look like yer Mum did at yer age."
Luna smiled. "Thank you."
"That leave you two," Hagrid said looking between Hermione and Clarice. "You'd be Hermione," he said to Hermione, "and you'd be Clarice then."
"How'd you know?" Clarice asked.
"Yer look like a Clarice," Hagrid replied and then laughed. "Nah. Not true. I was a th' sortin' an' remember ya from it. Whole lot er ya. An' where be my manners? My Da'd cane me fer certain, if'n he were the type, which he wasn't and if'n he could reach high enough, which he couldn't since I was seven. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, but me friends calls me jus' Hagrid. Now have a seat an' I'll pour's some tea, eh?"
Soon, everyone had their tea.
"So," Hagrid began, "yer likin' yer classes I suppose? Then again, I did hear 'bout Professor Snape. Now mind yeh, I ain' one ter encourage such things, but e's 'bout as – er – mean as they come. No disrespect, but 'e's been on Gryffindors an' Puffs since 'e's a student. 'Asn't mellowed wi' age, he's not. Whole school be talkin' 'bout yer lesson, 'Arry."
"Thanks," Harry said. "If he's like that, why does he teach?"
"Don' rightly know," Hagrid said. "Suppsed ter be a top Potioner, but don' know 'bout teachin'. Certainly not 'aving the 'eart fer it. But Dumbledore trusts 'im, 'e does. Great man, Dumbledore. Kept me on 'ere when ever' one wanted ter be shot of me, 'e did. Great man. 'Side from me job, 'e lets me do important stuff 'e'd trust no other with."
"Such as?" Harry asked.
"Can' be sayin', can I? Hogwarts stuff."
"So you must be a powerful wizard to be trusted like that," Harry said.
"I'm no wizard, 'Arry," Hagrid said sadly. "Might 'ave been. But it didn' 'appen."
"I don't understand," Harry said. "Can you or could you do magic?"
"Aye," Hagrid said. "Was a 'Hogwarts student like you lot once. Never finished."
"Grades?" Hermione asked.
"Weren' nothin' ter brag about, but weren' bad neither," Hagrid said. "I was – er – kicked out in me Third Year."
"Why?" several voices asked.
"Not important," Hagrid said. "Dumbledore knew what was true an' what wasn't. Convinced 'em t' keep me on as game keeper."
"But surely you could have still been taught," Hermione said.
"Snapped me wand, they did," Hagrid said. "Can't be no wizard with no wand, can you."
"You were a wizard before you had a wand," Harry said. "You had to be to come here in the first place. A wand does not make you a wizard, magic does."
"'Cept when they say you can't be one," Hagrid sighed. "It was that er worse fer me. My Da was already dead an' what's I supposed ter do? 'Tween you an' me, I 'ave been known ter dabble a bit, but strictly speakin' I ain't supposed ter be doin' magic."
"So," Harry said, "Dumbledore kept you on to keep game and run errands."
"'Bout the size o' it," Hagrid said. "Not complainin' mind. Would have done it even if I'd finished – assumin' they asked."
"Would you really?"
"Well, not if I could'a got work with dragons," Hagrid admitted. "Beautiful beasties they is. Always wanted one meself or at least chance ter work with 'em. But tha' didn' 'appen so there's no use pinin' fer what can't be."
"So, you've been here a while?"
"Aye. Long enough tha' there's gran'kids and great-grans of them I went t' school with here now."
"So you knew my parents?" Harry asked. The conversation was now heading in the direction he wanted it to go.
"Aye. Yer father was quite the handful with 'is friends. Told them time an' again ter stay outta the forest. Never listened. Them Weasley boys reminds me o' them. Now yer Mum, she was a true friend. Blessed she was. Top student an' all that. I do miss her," he finished by blowing his nose.
"I know it was you that brought me to the Dursleys that night," Harry said. "Are you saying that was Hogwarts stuff?"
"Tha' was – er – differen'. Dark time those were an' we 'ad ter pitch in ter fight 'em."
"And putting me with the Dursleys was fighting them?"
"Dumbledore said 'twas th' bes' thin' fer ya."
"They nearly killed him!" Hermione said sharply. Even after all this time, the Dursleys were an issue for her. Harry no longer felt anything for them, but one sure way to get Hermione on a rant was to mention them. They were inexcusable. What really made it worse was the fact that by all accounts Lily Evans was a wonderful person and Lily and Petunia's much older half brother Mike Evans was as well. With all the magic that was either in or came into the Evans line, Harry had been stuck with the one Evans who hated magic and anything associated with it.
"Now don' ye go believin' wha's in them papers, Hermione…"
"I saw it with my own eyes! I was there with him every day in hospital for weeks and weeks! The doctors said it was a miracle he lived at all!"
"Er…"
"Those people starved him half to death, beat him to a pulp, broke his arm, ribs, set a vicious dog on him then left the country leaving him at home to die! They even reported him missing! If that's what Dumbledore thinks is best, then the world would be better off shot of him!"
"Hermione," Harry began. "That was a long time ago."
"Not long enough!"
"I'm sure 'e didn't know," Hagrid began.
"He didn't bother to check! Not once in six years did he ever check on Harry!" Hermione yelled.
"Now yer see," Hagrid began, "there were things…"
"What things?" Clarice asked hoping to stave off Hermione's rant.
"'E was in danger, 'e was," Hagrid said.
"So throwing him in with a bunch of murdering brutes made him safer?" Hermione asked. "'Cause that's what he did!"
Hagrid sighed. "McGonagall an' I weren't keen on the idea, mind you. But Dumbledore said… 'E said they were the only family yer had left."
"He was lying," Harry said calmly, "that or he had no interest in the truth."
"Lyin'?"
"I'm his family," Clarice said. "I'm his younger sister. Harry and I were supposed to stay together."
"So tha's what Sirius was carryin'," Hagrid said. "'Twas you, weren't it?"
"It was," Clarice said. "According to Sirius, Dumbledore told him to get me out of there and adopted by a Muggle family. Sirius left me with Muggle child welfare not minutes later then went after Pettigrew. I was supposed to stay with Harry!"
"Let's not forget that Aunt Petunia and our Mum had an older brother," Harry said, "one who was and is married to a witch and who has eight magical children my age and older. Seems I had plenty of family. Dumbledore just felt I didn't deserve them."
"I'm sure 'e meant…"
"Don't even say meant well!" Hermione said. "The Muggles call what he did criminal negligence if not attempted manslaughter. Dumbledore knowingly and without care left a child in a situation which could have lead to grievous bodily harm or death. If he were a Muggle, he'd still be in prison for it!"
"He said…" Hagrid began.
"I had the better deal at first," Clarice said hoping to diffuse a deteriorating situation. "I was adopted before that year was out by a very nice couple who were great parents to me. But Daddy got sick and died of cancer when I was five. When I was six, Mum was driving me to school when we were in an accident. I was hurt bad, but Mum died there in the car next to me before we could be pulled out. By some chance or miracle, I was sent to the same hospital where Harry was recovering from what our relatives had done to him and was in the room just next door. The people there figured out who we were. Who knows what my life would have been like had I not found Harry."
"And yer Aunt an' Uncle?" Hagrid asked.
"Dead," Harry said. "House caught fire when they were asleep. I was still in the hospital. They died. Clarice and I were placed with another family before we left the hospital. In that regard, it was a happy ending. But now here I am attending a school with a man who wants to see me dead…"
"I'm sure Dumbledore doesn' wan' tha'," Hagrid said, but the conviction that had been in his voice was long gone.
"He sure had a funny way of showing it," Harry said calmly. "Every other time he had anything to do with my life it went badly for me. It's a good thing he's stuck in London with the Minister stuff. At least I can sleep without fearing being smothered."
"He wouldn'!"
"And just how am I supposed to know that?" Harry asked. "The other times in my life when Dumbledore did what he thought was best for my family, I almost get killed and my family comes out worse than if they had never met the man! He puts us in hiding for some reason and my parents get murdered and goodness knows what happened to me. He puts me with my Aunt, has my sister dumped off at an orphanage or some such like she's unwanted and the people I'm left with clearly didn't want me and tried to kill me. Let me tell you this: if I had any other option, I would never have come here!"
"'E never said nothin'. Never did. Told me 'twas the Greater Good an' ever'thin' would be better. Never said nothin' 'bout breakin' up a family. Probably knew I couldn' be part o' that if I knew. I am sorry Harry an' Clarice."
"It's okay," Hermione said. "It's better now."
"Is it?" Hagrid asked. "Dumbledore's doin' dangerous stuff up at the castle … I shouldn' 'ave said that."
"What stuff?"
"Nothin' you should be knowin'.'"
"Does it have anything to do with a large, three headed dog in the third floor corridor?" Harry asked.
"'ow do y' know about Fluffy?"
"Fluffy? It's got a name?" Hermione asked.
"'Course 'e does. 'E's mine. Got 'im from a Greek chappie down at the pub. Dumbledore jus' borrowin' 'im is all."
"For what?" Harry asked.
"How do y' know?" Hagrid asked back. "Tha's secret tha' is."
"If it make you feel any better, we haven't seen it. We just heard about it."
"From who?"
"Can't remember," Harry lied. He heard about it from Sensei. "Look, you put a beast like that in a school full of kids and tell those same kids not to go somewhere where that beast is, do you really think they'll listen? Course someone went looking and they talked and now a fair few know."
"Dumbledore said…" Hagrid began then stopped. "Kids weren' supposed t' be able to get t' Fluffy. Wouldn't have agreed if they could. 'Round here, he's a right sort, gentle as a lamb. But 'is kind is bred fer guardin' stuff an' when they 'as sommat t' guard, they can be as nasty as a dragon they can. Would kill yer soon as look at yer."
"What's it guarding?" Harry asked.
"None o' yer business! Tha's top secret that is. Tha's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. I shouldn' 'ave said tha'."
"The Philosophers Stone then," Harry said. He knew he was goading Hagrid a little.
"How'd you know tha'?"
"Potions," Harry said. "Anyone who knows a lot about potions knows about alchemy and the Stone and also knows Flamel made one long ago." Harry left out the fact that he knew the stone was a fake and exactly why it was at Hogwarts.
"I suppose."
"What's it doing here?"
"Now tha' not even Dumbledore's sayin'. An' if yer are worried 'bout danger, than yer bes' not be nosin' where yer ain't wanted."
"Last thing I'd want to do," Harry said before steering the conversation into a safer direction. That direction was about magical creatures which, fortunately, the group was equipped to handle. Luna had her Mastery in the subject after all. Yet she also had the uncanny ability to appear innocent about things. She had always had that talent, one which led people to believe that she knew far less than she really did. It gave people the impression she was very interested when in fact she was sifting for information or, like now, simply making conversation.
While Luna kept Hagrid talking about all the beasties in the forest, as Hagrid put it, Harry looked at him carefully. Deep down he wondered whether he could trust this man. In another timeline, Sensei had and that trust had never been betrayed. In this timeline, Hagrid seemed trustworthy, but if there was one mark against the man it was his loyalty to Dumbledore. That loyalty had been severely tested today. But to what degree? People had a strange ability to justify things in their own minds that could not be justified and make excuses for the inexcusable. Harry noted that whenever Hagrid looked at him, there was pain or something like it in his eyes. Was it guilt?
"Are you okay Hagrid?" Harry asked when there was a pause in the conversation.
"Fine," Hagrid said abruptly. It was obvious he was not fine.
"You're feeling guilty, aren't you?" Harry asked.
Hagrid shrugged.
"You feel as if you are somehow responsible for what happened to me with the Dursleys, don't you?"
Hagrid nodded.
"It's not your fault, Hagrid," Harry began.
"If I hadn' brung y' there, y' might a had a better…" Hagrid began.
"You had no idea who or what they were," Harry began.
"Muggles they were," Hagrid said. "Worst sort, 'ccording to Professor McGonagall. Should a known."
"Not all Muggle are like that, Hagrid. Most are not, in fact. My Cousin Mike is not like that at all and he was my Aunt Petunia's brother. The Grangers are not like that either. It's not your fault, Hagrid."
"Should a tried sommat. Should a told Dumbledore it were no good fer ya. Stead, I jus' left y' on that doorstep and went away. An' it were me tha' took y' away from your sister."
"And why did you do that?" Harry asked.
"'Cause Dumbledore said it was best for the both of yeh," Hagrid replied. "An' I believed him!"
"Did you have any reason not to?"
"Donno. You were jus' babies an…"
"I don't blame you, Hagrid," Harry said.
"Neither do I," Clarice added.
"If it helps, I forgive you for whatever you felt you did that was wrong," Harry added.
"I do too," Clarice said.
"Thank you both," Hagrid said blowing his nose into a piece of cloth roughly the size of a small table cloth. "So y' don' blame me?"
"No Hagrid," Harry said honestly. "Not that there's no one to blame. But you are not to blame."
"Who then?"
"The Dursleys of course," Harry said. "They were not forced to treat me like they did. They chose to act that way. Sirius to a limited extent. We know he knew what my parents wanted if something happened as it did, yet he followed Dumbledore's orders and took Clarice into the Muggle world before running off in search of the real traitor. Things might well have been different had he not been sent to Azkaban. He might well have sorted things out once things had calmed down a bit. But he was not around to do so.
"The real person I blame is Dumbledore. He's the one who separated Clarice and I and sent me off to the Dursleys. He also knew what my parents wanted and convinced others, most notably Sirius, to ignore their wishes. He should have known what sort of hell he was sending me to, yet he did nothing. He never bothered to check on me and he ignored what he heard from the one person in the neighborhood he sent there to keep tabs on me. To this day, I have no idea what he was thinking. I do not know the man. Never met him. To be honest, I'm not sure I ever want to."
"He's a great man," Hagrid said, but the conviction seemed to have disappeared.
"Perhaps in some areas he is," Harry conceded. "When it comes to me, however, he has repeatedly proven himself to be untrustworthy. Right now, he could tell me grass is greed and I would not believe him absent independent research. In the best of all worlds, he would remain in London for the next seven years."
"He must'a 'ad a reason…" Hagrid began.
"Can you think of any good reason to allow a child to suffer as Harry did?" Hermione asked. "I can't."
Hagrid nodded.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11th, 1991 – LITTLE WHINGING, SURRY, U.K.
Within a copse of trees and seemingly impenetrable underbrush, there was a flash of light and a loud crack. Neither the light nor the sound was noted by anyone and where once had been empty space there now stood a woman in her mid twenties. She had shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes and was dressed in jeans, a button down blouse, a light jumper and a jacket. It was a style she hoped would be nondescript and would blend in.
She then checked herself out as if to see if she was all there and if anything had gone missing. In the right pocket of her jacket there was a wad of bills exactly where she left them. The amount was about six thousand Pounds, all in twenty Pound notes, all printed before 1990. In her left pocket was an additional 10,000 galleons in gold, which was thought to be more than enough for what she had to do. There was a stick of wood hidden in her sleeve. It was a wand for she was a witch, although the wand was not registered which meant as long as she did not cast any of the spells known as Unforgivables, any magic she used should remain undetected by the paranoid magical government. She pulled out a hand drawn map and scanned it. She seemed to be where she was supposed to be, which meant she was about a mile or so from her objective. It seemed like a nice day for a walk and a part of her was pleased as she could barely remember the last time she had been out in the fresh air.
She found herself walking down what had to be the High Street of the small town that was a part of Greater London. As she passed a Library, she noted a box containing newspapers and chose to have a look. She really doubted the paper would have anything of interest to her or relevant to her mission, but it was worth a peek for another reason. She scanned the date and saw that the paper was dated 11 September 1991. She was almost four years off target, but fortunately it was an overshoot.
She soon saw a sign that said "Privet Drive" and began to walk down the street. She was looking for a particular address and found she was in the forties and as she walked the numbers went down so she was walking in the right direction, or so she had been told. She did her best not to marvel at the things she had only ever read about or seen in books. Her goal was to reach her destination, take a look, and then head north. If the date was right, her target would not be at home so she would have to head north to acquire it. The house numbers were soon in single digits and she knew she was close. She passed Number Six and beyond it was an empty lot. She continued to the next house which had to be her first destination. The next was Number Two and she stopped dead in her tracks, turned and slowly returned to the empty lot.
"This can't be," she whispered to herself. "It's supposed to be here!"
She drew her wand surreptitiously and did a quick scan for any magical signatures. There were not any, which meant if there had been any magic here above background; it had been months if not years earlier. This told her two things. First, her target had not been here in a long time and second, despite all evidence to the contrary, her partner might not have been here either. There was no sign of his magical drop box which he was to leave here in the event that she arrived. She slowly walked around the lot wondering what had happened. All she knew for certain was that this was not right.
"Looking for something, Miss?" a voice called out. She saw an elderly lady on the sidewalk looking at her.
"Er … yes, I suppose," she said. "I've been overseas for a while. I used to have a cousin who lived at Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surry, or so I was told. Yet there doesn't seem to be a Number Four."
"A cousin? You wouldn't be a Dursley, would you," the woman asked with more than a hint of hostility in her voice.
"No," she replied. "My name is Luna Jones. My cousin was their nephew I think. I was related to the lad on his father's side."
"Oh," the woman relaxed and then looked sad. "The place burned down about three years ago," she said. "Dursleys died in the fire."
"And my cousin?" Luna asked in shock.
The woman shrugged. "Poor boy. Hard to believe anyone would do that to a child. Beat him something horrible we heard. It was in all the papers what they did to him. The Dursleys were up on charges when it happened. They nearly killed the poor boy. He was in hospital in London when the fire happened. Child Welfare had him."
"Any idea what became of him?" Luna asked.
"Foster care most like, assuming he was not adopted," the woman said. "He's not around anymore, that's for certain, not that I blame him. If I had to live through that I would be shot of this place as well. How long have you been gone?"
"Six years," Luna said. "Mission work in Canada."
The old woman nodded. "Sorry I can't be more help, dear."
"Thank you," Luna said as she watched the woman walk off down the street.
'What have you done, Neville Love?' she thought to herself. Once she was alone again, Luna took a small, wooden box from her pocket and tossed it into the lot. It was her drop box. It was magical and yet only her Neville would be able to find or use it. It would tell Neville where she was. She only hoped nothing had happened to him.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11th, 1991 – THE LEAKY CAULDRON, LONDON, U.K.
Luna "Jones" was seated at a table in the tavern by herself reading that day's copy of the Daily Prophet as she nursed a cup of coffee, a luxury she had never tried before. All of this was new to her. She had never been to London before so far as she could recall and had only seen it in old pictures. Yesterday for her, London no longer existed.
Luna had no real last name. Last names were unnecessary where she was from, or more accurately when she was from. She did not even know if Luna was her real name or if she ever had one. She did not even know for certain when she was born. She believed it was between 2048 and 2050 but otherwise did not even know when her real birthday was. In her original life as a servant, such trivial facts were of no interest to anyone who mattered, which was anyone other than her. Her "father" had deduced her probable based upon the state of her permanent teeth and her size when he had found her and her friend "Neville." It was in 2055. June 30th, to be exact, which was the first date she knew for certain. It was the date that dates and last names ceased to matter for it was on that day that London and much of the world ceased to exist. She was between five and seven years old at the time, and that was a guess. Her father named her Luna after a long dead old friend of his.
Yesterday, for Luna, had been December 17th, 2077. She had travelled back in time to change the past so that the future she knew would never come to pass. She pondered that. Her job was nothing less than to stop the end of the world, yet it was the end of the world that led her and Neville to Father and from him to where she was sitting now. If she stopped the end, she would never meet Father. She might never even have met her Love Neville. If they never met, she could never go back in time. Father had tried to explain that their time led to this time she was now in such that even if she was never born in this time, she would still exist because she did exist. It was enough to give her a headache.
Her target date was July 1995. She knew, however, that she would likely miss that date. Location was more important so that temporal accuracy was sacrificed. The hope was if she arrived at the wrong time it would be earlier than the target date. She was to go to Little Whinging, Surry, to Number Four Privet Drive and find a boy named Harry Potter who lived there. She was to guide him on a course that would lead him away from a man named Albus Dumbledore and onto a path that might prevent the end of the world. She was the backup plan.
Her Love Neville had travelled back first on June 10th, 2077. He had the same mission and they all figured that if he were successful, she and father would cease to exist. That had not happened, so father sent her back to see the mission through. But something was already very different and wrong. That Number Four had burned to the ground was not a surprise as it had in her timeline. But it had burned down in the late summer of 1997, six years from now; not two or three years ago. The Dursleys were dead decades before they would pass away from natural causes in her time. All three were dead before she was even born, but they had not died in a fire and certainly not in this century. Harry Potter was probably alive, but his whereabouts and living arrangements were now a mystery.
The plan assumed he was with the Dursleys and would be isolated both by them and by the greater Wizarding World in 1995. This would make it somewhat easy for her to gain access to him. While he was isolated, he was not locked in and was free to roam the neighborhood, which meant he could be accessed, befriended at a pivotal time in his life, and maybe steered away from Dumbledore's schemes towards a path or paths that would prevent the end of everything. But the plan assumed that 1995 would happen as it had before and that now was thrown into question. Someone had changed everything.
Before her in the paper and in the conversations she heard in the tavern was additional proof that everything was different. In the magically shrunken notebook in her back pocket was page after page of information about Harry and the times in which he lived. Father had included everything he could remember or had read about those times, including the times before they were scheduled to meet. It seemed the changes were limited to the magical world for now. The London Times had articles discussing recent world events, opining that following the attempted coups in the Soviet Union the past August 18th, the "Evil Empire" was clearly in its death throes. It was already all but clear that the Soviet Union would not survive 1991. There were also stories about the aftermath of the first Gulf War, particularly about the plight of the Kurds and Shiites in Iraq. And there were stories about the former Yugoslavia and the outbreak of war between break away Croatia and what was left of the dying communist country. All were consistent with the last timeline.
But while the Muggle world was undergoing massive political change, this was supposed to be a dull time in the Magical one. Nothing much happened following the aftermath of the First Voldemort War which ended effectively on October 31st, 1981 when little Harry Potter had his fateful encounter with Voldemort. In her timeline, Cornelius Fudge became Minister for Magic in Britain in May of 1990 when his predecessor Millicent Bagnold retired stating the world had become too boring. His election was one of the swiftest peacetime appointments in ages, a two week process most of which had been spend deciding the daily menus for the Wizengamot who were per tradition sequestered until a new Minister was installed.
But that's not this world, Luna noted. Bagnold had only just retired and things in the years leading up to her retirement seemed to be anything but boring. She still did not have many facts to work with, but the talk in the room and implications in the paper were that the Ministry and Wizengamot had been plagued by scandal for a few years now and were effectively paralyzed. The Wizengamot was under sequestration and the thought was that they would be lucky to have a new Minister by year's end, as the Wizengamot was so divided that they could not reach an agreement on what color the sky was, much less anything as important as a new Minister. All the previous favorites for the office had been sacked by Bagnold following her anti-corruption campaign a couple of years earlier, including Cornelius Fudge. Something major had happened.
'How major?' she asked herself. There was no telling, of course. 'Could it be significant enough to affect my future life?' she thought. Again, there was no way to be certain. She was a witch, that much was certain. But she had no idea who or what her parents had been and there was no way to find out. She did not know who they were and even if she did, it was certain they had not yet been born and entirely probable that her grandparents were not born yet. If they had been Muggles, the changes she could already see were not yet of import. If they were magicals, however, she had no idea. 'What have you done, Neville Love?' she again thought.
Then again, could it have been Neville? True, he had been sent back some six months before she had been, but that really meant nothing. The temporal inaccuracy that had landed her here four years earlier could have placed Neville just about anywhere, or any time. He might not even be here yet. But if he wasn't here, who or what had changed things? That was a scary thought. There were others who would love to have seen the times changed. Those people would not seek a better future, just one where the world did not destroy everything.
She would need to find out everything she could about this new time. Then she would need to find out everything she could about the Harry Potter who lived in this time. She did not mind, so much. It would mean days and weeks in libraries looking over old newspapers and following up with other investigations. But she liked that sort of thing. Father always said she reminded him of the friend he lost the day he found her and Neville. Although her name was Luna, she reminded father of another woman who loved research named Hermione.
Two floors about where Luna sat, an old man was in a room reading a book. Most who knew him would either consider his choice of reading material typical or insulting. Those who would think typical generally thought the old man was a little mad. Those who felt his choice of reading was insulting were almost without exception Purebloods who believed the Muggle world had nothing to offer. Albus Dumbledore was not mad and while he was a Pureblood, he did not condemn the Muggle world in such broad strokes. True, he believed the two worlds needed to be separate. But he also believed the animosity certain magical held for the non-magical world was unhealthy. The secrecy could not be maintained if there were any in his world who held Muggles beneath contempt. But that was a crusade for another day and for now Albus found the works of American born Tom Clancy a good escape from the political hell he found himself in. He read Douglas Addams in the Wizengamot as it provided a better distraction from the juvenile atmosphere. Frankly, Hogwarts students seemed more mature.
The Pureblood elites would be horrified to learn how little there was in their world that was truly unique to it, Albus mused. Sequestration was one such unoriginal idea. It was borrowed from the Catholic Church. When the Church needed a new Pope, the electors, all of whom were Cardinals or Princes of the Church as they were once known, were almost literally locked away until they elected their new leader. The selection of Minister for Magic was similar.
All members of the Wizengamot were to remain in London either in the Ministry of Magic or their rooms in the various magical boarding establishments most of the time. They were allowed three hours a day for meals or to enter Diagon Alley to purchase necessities. They were allowed three hours a week to attend to their personal affairs. Otherwise, they were forbidden to leave or even call or write to their families and friends until they had a new Minister. The idea was while they were here their personal affairs and businesses were unattended and would suffer from their absence thus motivating them to act quickly. Usually it had worked.
However, these were not usual times. The Wizengamot was too divided to reach a consensus about the lunch arrangements, much less any weightier issues. Years ago, Albus could use his influence to move things along. But the recent scandals had sapped his ability to persuade and sufficiently damaged his influence that he was now just one voice in the multitude on the floor of the Wizengamot. As Chief Warlock, he still had the role of trying to maintain order and keep the body on task. But he knew the reality. It would be months before any headway would be made and months more before a Minister would take office.
Damn that Bagnold, he thought. Why did she pick this time to retire? Had she done so a year earlier or even a year later it would have not mattered. But this time was not good so far as Albus was concerned. He was supposed to be at Hogwarts beginning to guide the young Harry Potter towards his inevitable destiny. He had arranged things such that Tom Riddle would make an attempt to return this year and the man was now at Hogwarts. His plan was to trap the villain and arrange an encounter between him and the boy. It was a risk, but he was certain Riddle was too weak to do much more than scare the lad senseless and hadn't he arranged it so Riddle took possession of one of the weakest wizards he could steer into harm's way? If he had selected Severus for that task, the boy would already be dead. But Quirrell? He was too weak even under possession to cast an Unforgivable.
The plan was simple enough. Harry would encounter the most dangerous Dark Wizard of these times, perhaps of all time, and naturally would turn to Dumbledore for guidance and support. That had been the plan since he left the boy at his relatives all those years ago, although at that time he had not worked out any of the details. Harry was left there on purpose. Albus knew there would be no true affection for the lad. He had not, however, supposed that the relatives could have ever done to the little boy what they had done to little Harry. Had he even envisioned the possibility, he would have done something different. Abuse such as that was not for the Greater Good and might well have pushed the lad towards the Dark. Still, it was imperative the lad not be raised in the magical world. He would have been treated as a prince and that would have made it all but impossible to mold the lad into what he needed to become. A strong sense of self worth would have been counterproductive.
Then, the damnable Dursleys tried to kill him. Muggle government was clearly faster to respond than Magical. The lad wound up in hospital and under the jurisdiction of Muggle Child Welfare. He was obviously placed with another family and an emotional attachment obviously formed. How it triggered the Blood Wards was a question as the likelihood of Harry being reunited with his sister was less than minimal. But Albus would concede he did not know all there was to know about Blood Wards and it might have worked simply by placing the lad in a loving environment. The result was the boy passed from his knowledge or control for three long years. Worse was that with those Wards in place the boy could not be controlled during the holidays. Albus knew he would be hard pressed to suggest other arrangements. Subtlety was a key to his plan and ordering the lad to spend his Holidays at Hogwarts or somewhere that lacked those Wards was anything but subtle. Albus was left with the school year to work the lad.
Then this current wrinkle arose. He was sequestered and could not leave London for more than three hours a week. As Headmaster, he had obtained an exception to policy that would allow him to leave under certain "dire" circumstances. The problem was he could not easily manufacture such circumstances. He truly doubted anyone would do him the favor of dying at the school. Likewise it would be bad form to compel someone to commit a capital offense at the school. He seriously doubted the school would be burned down, attacked by dark forces (Voldemort notwithstanding, but he could not reveal that), erupt into revolution or riot or be destroyed by Vogons or anyone else. Thus, the dire circumstances that would allow him to get back to school and to Potter were not realistic.
Potter was not what he had expected and in some ways he was needed at the school to guide the boy. He had hoped for a pliable youth. Being raised among the Muggles should have done that. Magical children had historically had difficulties as youths in that world. Albus did not know why, but most Muggle raised children had few if any friends in the other world. They all seemed to enter Hogwarts desperate to fit in and find themselves. You could see it on their faces when they first were sorted. It was not the look on young Harry's face, however. While he did not look the part of the young prince, the lad looked confident and sure of himself. Not even his father James had looked that way when he was sorted and James was every bit of the young prince at that age. A confident young man did not need a mentor, and the Greater Good demanded that Potter have Albus as mentor.
But being at the school now was not an option. True, he could resign as Chief Warlock. But that would be a disaster. He knew it would throw the magical world into even more political chaos and would, in all likelihood, allow the ultra conservatives to seize power, which would be as bad as Voldemort gaining power. While Albus believed leadership must vest in those raised in their cultural traditions, and by definition that meant Purebloods, to do so at the expense of the majority of society would be racial suicide. If the conservatives did not manage to breed magic into extinction, their animosity towards the rest of the world would bring war upon them. Merlin forbid if the Muggles got involved in that. Magic gave his people significant advantages over Muggles. But this meant that one well trained and powerful wizard could probably fight against a hundred Muggles. The problem was there were more highly trained Muggle warriors in the British Isles than magicals of any ability. Fighting Muggles was suicide. The best thing for his world was no contact with Muggles at all. In his opinion, using magic on any Muggle aside from when necessary to hide magic should be treated the same way as using an Unforgivable – it should condemn the witch or wizard to life in prison. To prevent such a future, he had to remain where he was.
Still, he had those three hours a week where he could return to Hogwarts. But to take "special interest" in young Potter was also problematic. He had seldom ever taken "special interest" in any student and even then it was much later – usually after they had taken their O.W.L.s. He had never taken interest in a First Year and to do so would raise questions which he had no desire to answer. True, once Potter had faced off against Voldemort again such interest could be justified, but not before then. He would have to wait. Albus was well aware that plans "never" survive first contact. But knowing that maxim did not make things any easier.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11th, 1991 – HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, SCOTLAND, U.K.
Harry was sitting on his bed reading a book. The curtains were drawn as it was late and a two-way silencing charm was in place. This prevented him from hearing the snores of his roommates as they slept. He knew Neville snored, but Neville proved to be tame as compared to Ron Weasley. Ron seemed decent enough, but there was no way Harry would willingly room with the kid absent liberal use of the silencing charm. It was two way because while infrequent, he still had nightmares about his time with the Dursleys and his reactions woke people. In Japan and at home he did not bother with the precaution as he usually found himself in the arms of Hermione and that was always worth the pain of remembering, although it also explained why she was even more likely to go off about his past than he was as she had with Hagrid earlier. But here? The last thing he wanted was "comfort" from a bloke.
Harry sensed he was not alone and looked up from his book to see Sensei sitting on the end of the bed.
"A most interesting beginning," Sensei said.
Harry nodded. "Not exactly what I expected," he admitted. "Why haven't I seen you before now?"
"Well, this is not exactly Japan, is it?" Sensei replied.
Harry nodded. During his four summers in Japan he shared a flat with Hermione and Clarice. It was easy for them to spend some time with Sensei as they did not have to worry about anyone noting they were having a conversation with someone who was not there. Privacy here was a little harder to arrange.
"Your probable solution to the Quirrell matter is quite interesting," Sensei said.
Harry nodded. "Having a Spell Crafter does have its advantages."
"And why that spell?"
"If it works, there can be no blame," Harry replied. "To everyone else it should appear mostly harmless. The only person it could harm …"
"Or kill," Sensei added.
Harry nodded, "or kill is someone possessed by Voldemort."
"An unfortunate accident," Sensei said.
Harry nodded. "It'll be a couple of months before it is ready."
"The Quidditch match, I presume?"
"You did say he tried to kill you then."
Sensei nodded. "We thought it was Severus at the time…"
"Severus?"
"Professor Snape," Sensei said. "My Hermione saw him doing something that looked like trying to perform a jinx. Actually, it was Quirrell and Snape was trying to counter it. Hermione set Snape on fire which distracted everyone, including Quirrell."
"Snape tried to save you?"
"He's an odd one, Harry. He doesn't like you, but he will try and protect you to a point. Both timelines are probably consistent on that point. You look too much like your father for his comfort and his hatred for your father never died."
"Why'd he hate my father?"
"It's complicated," Sensei sighed. "You've met Draco Malfoy. Think of Malfoy with a brain and competence and that was your father at his age and Sirius for that matter."
"Arrogant?"
Sensei nodded. "He would grow out of it, but he was the cock of the walk when he was younger which naturally grated people. Add to that he disliked Severus from the day they met and went out of his way to torment the boy… Now don't get me wrong, Severus gave as good as he got and could be viciously vindictive. But hexing people because you don't like them is not a way to make friends."
"That seems obvious," Harry said.
"Apparently, it did not become obvious to your father for some years. His maturation was largely due to your mother, which was yet another reason why Snape hated him."
"My mother?"
"Your mother was Snape's first and arguably only friend. They met when they were about eight or nine years old and were practically inseparable. He told her about magic. One might say had things been different, she was to Severus as Hermione is to you and vice versa. But that's not what happened. Some of that was your father's fault as his constant bullying – for lack of a better word – probably motivated Snape to fall in with certain Slytherins who would later be Death Eaters. That was his undoing in many ways for he eventually began to take on their attitudes about many things. He came to hate Muggle Borns, your mother being sole exception. She did not see it that way and ended her friendship with Severus when it was clear he had fallen in with the Pureblood bigots. Add to it the fact that she would eventually marry his arch enemy, and Severus hated your father all the more."
"So he's nasty because of my father?"
"It's not quite that simple. In you he see's your father because you look almost exactly like him. But he also sees his weakness and greatest failure, one that destroyed him.
"You see, Snape became a Death Eater…"
"And he's allowed here!" Harry yelled.
Sensei nodded. "He became a Death Eater. That means he has killed as a murder is part of the initiation rite. But unlike many of his – er – colleagues, the man has something akin to a conscience. It was Snape that overheard part of the Prophecy that has so affected your life. He reported what he heard to Voldemort who immediately began plotting to eliminate any family that fit the description. Now as you recall, Voldemort would have come after your family anyway. He would not suffer another Founders' Heir to challenge his right to rule, or whatever else he thought he was entitled to. Snape's revelation merely forced him to act sooner than he might have otherwise and set his sights on the Longbottoms.
"Snape could care less about James and arguably you. But Voldemort did not leave survivors and that meant your mother would die as well. That was one thing Snape could not stomach. He tried to convince Voldemort to spare your mother, and you for that matter, but in any event your mother. When it was clear that Voldemort could not be persuaded, Snape went to Dumbledore hoping the man would do something to keep your mother safe, even if that included sparing you and your father. Dumbledore was more interested in which of you was the child of the prophecy and a few deaths were a small price to pay, thus he did nothing. The rest, they say, is history."
"Then why is Snape here?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Snape became a very effective spy against Voldemort. He agreed to do that in exchange for Dumbledore protecting your family. He should have asked for a wizard's oath to such effect, but was probably too emotionally distraught to think of it. His role became public knowledge after the war and that marked him. While the Death Eaters had gone to ground, there was a real chance one of them might try to kill Snape for betraying their cause. Hence, he was brought here to teach and to keep him safe from retribution."
Harry nodded. "Sun Tzu did say that the good general protects his spies. But that does not excuse him as a teacher."
"I agree," Sensei said. "Arguably, you exposed him with that Potions detention. Quite extraordinary."
"I'm surprised that nothing has come from that," Harry said. "That should have exposed me. I mean the Club knows the truth, but he surely should suspect something and I was amazed he did not mention it to Dumbledore."
"You hit him at his two weakest points," Sensei said. "First of all, his hatred of Sirius is such he is more than willing to believe Sirius tutored you in Potions just to make Snape look bad. You also his him in his ego – and he does have one. I don't think the man is willing to admit he was out done by an eleven-year-old under any circumstances. He probably would have said something if anyone else had brought it up."
"Hopefully, he won't be as nasty a cuss," Harry mused.
"Don't count on it," Sensei said. "But it did seem to get the fence sitters off."
"Excuse me?"
"The Club," Sensei said with a smile. "You seem to have doubled it with one lesson."
"Here," Harry agreed. "It's too early to say whether something similar will happen at the other schools."
Sensei nodded. "And you've finally met Hagrid," he said changing topics. "What did you think?"
"Seems nice enough," Harry said. "His trust in Dumbledore is disturbing, however."
"It's not what it was in my time," Sensei said. "Hermione's rant would have earned her a stern rebuke from him in that time."
"She gets that way about my life before we met," Harry sighed.
"She should," Sensei said. "But Hagrid would not have been so quiet regarding what was a blatant attack on Dumbledore. You were probably right that he feels somewhat responsible for what happened to you with the Dursleys. He's that kind of man. It would seem that even before you came here he was harboring some questions about Dumbledore.
"Don't get me wrong. He probably still respects the man and trusts him to a point. But he clearly read about what happened to you when the scandal broke a few years ago. He now connects you and what he did with The-Boy-Who-Was-Abused and Dumbledore's admitted complicity in that horrible situation. He's struggling with the Albus Dumbledore who gave him a chance when no one else was willing to do so and the Albus Dumbledore who condemned an innocent child to a hell for no apparent reason.
"In my time, Hagrid was Dumbledore's man through and through. I don't think that is the case now, although he is still loyal to some point."
"Is that the reason you did not appear earlier?" Harry asked.
"The thought did cross my mind, such as I have one," Sensei said. "He is the last who might be able to see me as he was my first real friend in this world and was a very true one his entire life. But yes, right now his connection with Dumbledore is a concern for me. Well that and the fact he is lousy when it comes to secrets. But here's a point to consider: even in my time, were Hagrid forced to choose between Dumbledore and Hogwarts, Dumbledore would have lost. Something to think about going forward."