It's been a while.

1. Thanks a lot to SnowBear17 for helping me beta this story.

2. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer.

3. I tumblr account with the JonRiptide handler. I lurk around some discord servers as well.

4. Thanks for the reviews so far, I appreciate all of them, signed and guest reviews as well.

5. If you're going to pee, this is the time. You have 8K words ahead of you.

Grey clouds loomed over the sky as Hugo followed his new friends outside. There was an unmistakable scent of rain in the air, but the boy couldn't say he minded that much. The castle's walls had become narrower somehow and he would've looked for an excuse to get away even if Todd hadn't suggested they visit the grounds first.

The unruly wind outside carried wine-red leaves without resistance. They played along the dirt paths and grassy hills while the smell of oak helped loosen the knot on Hugo's chest. Painful as it was to admit, all those things felt more familiar to the boy than any of the faces he'd seen at lunch.

Hugo ached for his parents. Terribly. But seeing them again hadn't brought him comfort. Not as it should have. Their younger versions were more like an old photograph to Hugo rather than real people. Almost like ghosts passing by.

You have no one to blame but yourself for any stupid hope you held, Hugo told himself, his thoughts sounding an awful lot like his sister.

Hugo snorted. He wasn't in the mood to talk to Rose. She would either frown and repeat what he already knew in the most matter-of-factly way, or worry and look at him as if he were a wounded puppy. He couldn't deal with either, not yet.

The boys didn't stop until they reached a nice patch of trees on the west side of the castle. Hugo had a good view of the grounds from there. He could see anything from Hagrid's hut all the way to the swaying pines in the distance.

Blimey! How can it all look exactly the same and still be so ruddy different?

"Splendid, isn't it? How are you liking it so far?" asked Andrew, mistaking his expression for awe.

Hugo smiled back politely.

The Scottish highlands were undeniably stunning, but hardly something new to him. If he didn't have a fake identity to protect, Hugo could tell them where to find wildberries without giving it much thought, or even the best spot for getting shade in the summer.

"It's brilliant. All of it. Never thought I would be here," he said instead, pretending to be amazed.

Todd, who was readying a gobstones match against Roy, turned to Hugo as if puzzled. "How come? Your parents don't like it here?"

Hugo looked away.

The Wallaces were supposed to prefer homeschooling. They'd all agreed on that little piece of backstory at the Burrow. However, Hugo knew his real parents had been nothing but thrilled when his Hogwarts letter first arrived. They'd been all over the moon throughout his first shopping trip, and still sported daft smiles when they'd arrived at King's Cross. Dad had looked quite chuffed with himself when he'd ruffled Hugo's hair, while Mum had rushed through a list of last-minute instructions, clearly over-excited. They'd both continued waving at Hugo enthusiastically even as the train left the station and they became nothing but small dots lost in the horizon. Distant and unreachable. Just like the strangers Hugo had found at lunch.

"My parents probably thought I was better back home," Hugo replied. He averted his gaze, throwing a pebble away bitterly.

"Rubbish! Nothing beats Hogwarts. This is where you should be," Roy said, oblivious to Hugo's thoughts.

A weak shrug was the only answer Hugo could give him.

The boys told Hugo that his parents had nothing to worry about — with Dumbledore around, they prattled, there was no safer place than Hogwarts. Dumbledore's skills couldn't be questioned, but Hugo's friends didn't know about the nasty curse spreading on the headmaster's hand. They didn't know that safety had an expiration date.

In the trifling chatter that followed, Hugo mentioned being a huge fan of the Falmouth Falcons, and he'd almost boggled things over by naming a player who wasn't in the roster yet. After that, Hugo limited his words, pretending to rest. The following peace, however, made him notice the shy column of smoke coming out of Hagrid's hut.

It was easy to imagine Hagrid preparing soup inside the warmth of his house. It was a bleeding shame that Hugo couldn't visit. Few things could brighten one's mood as effectively as a warm cup of tea at Hagrid's. But in any case, Hugo couldn't just go there and offer to put the kettle on himself, much less share with Hagrid what seeing his parents again had felt like. Andrew and the rest would find that suspicious, and Hagrid wouldn't even know Hugo Wallace to begin with.

He wouldn't know Hugo Weasley any better.

Hugo hugged his legs to his chest. It had been in one of Hagrid's classes when he'd been given the news. A class like any other. One that couldn't possibly have happened only two weeks ago. Hugo remembered the chatter of the other kids, and he remembered holding back a laugh at Elvin's stupid flobberworm joke. He remembered being cheerful as well. Then McGonagall had approached the edge of the forest giving Hugo the bleakest of looks, and nothing was the same anymore.

Hagrid had known then. He'd understood, even if none of Hugo's classmates had.

"It isn' fair. It wasn' his time yet. Not with yeh two still in school!" Hagrid had wailed days later, when he had visited Hugo's suddenly too small family. The large man had blown his nose with the biggest handkerchief Hugo had ever seen. "Ron was this high when I met 'im, yeh know? Not taller 'n a unicorn's foal…" Hagrid had managed before a new wave of sobs. "Always full o' life, tha' was 'im alright…. Good man, yer father."

Hugo rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, the shape of his nose feeling vastly different to what he was used to. He yanked a single hair away from his head so he could look at it. It was black. He'd almost forgotten.

The boys gave him odd looks, though thankfully said nothing. For a while, Hugo kept his eyes on the gobstones game, trying to keep his mind clear to avoid any intruding questions. However, the smoke coming out of Hagrid's chimney had an almost magnetic pull on him. He stole glances now and then, wondering...

They could be there now.

The sole possibility was enough to make Hugo's chest feel tighter. He thought about lunch, even when he'd been trying not to. His father was alive. His mother could be smiling now. That alone was enough to bring a wistful smile to Hugo's face. Still, he couldn't help himself feeling upset. He couldn't help himself from wanting more.

It was a maddening feeling, and it was only the first day. There were months ahead of this. Of joking and pretending. Of stealing furtive glances. Of daydreaming about things that couldn't be.

And for how long?... Two years? More than that? And then what? They learn the truth and we all get to be a happy family again? A family where everyone is around the same age?

Bonkers! Why not? We'd spend our Hogsmeade weekends together.

The absurdity of it almost made Hugo laugh. He'd always loved to fantasise about the future and consider possibilities, but this future was all in shambles. There were so many blasted questions that he didn't know the answer to and it was driving him nuts.

Noticing his quietness, Todd offered Hugo a chance to challenge Roy at gobstones. It wasn't chess by any means, but Hugo enjoyed it well enough. Most importantly, it provided a welcome distraction from his own thoughts and from that maddening column of smoke.

Eventually though, a light rain forced them back into the castle.

Hugo saw his parents again at dinner. They both looked sober as they tried to tell Uncle Harry something that he was clearly not in the mood to listen to. Hugo made an effort to not turn in their direction every twenty seconds or so, but he could feel their burning presence even from the other end of the long table. It made having a relaxing meal an arduous task.

This is what being a Seeker must be like, he guessed. Like having your fingertips brush against the snitch only for it to slip away each time.

At six o'clock Hugo followed his sister to McGonagall's office, where they practised and reinforced the appearance charms. As a professor, his future headmistress was quite demanding, but she did have a way of getting the knowledge into their heads. And gladly so, since Hugo realised he was way behind Rose in mastering those charms.

Once the lesson was over, McGonagall asked them about their day, and thankfully didn't press when they gave her the shortest of answers.

Even without taking into account Rose's side glances, Hugo knew a conversation with his sister was long overdue. He felt a tad better after spending the afternoon outside, but finding the opportunity to speak with her openly proved to be a challenge.

Peeves must've thought the new kids would be easy targets, because he pestered them all the way to the moving staircases. From there, the crowds of students and ever-prying portraits made it difficult to say two words without being heard. And as if that wasn't enough, Hugo's new friends intercepted them near the common room, eager to share some story with him. Rose greeted Andrew and the others politely, but it was clear that she was annoyed when Hugo took off with them instead of staying to talk to her.

All in all, their first day back at Hogwarts ended without hearing more from his sister than a scant good night. Hugo knew they had to talk things over, but he couldn't help feeling relieved. He was knackered and there were things that he could go without hearing. At least for a little longer.

What a Gryffindor he was.

o0o0o

The next morning, Hugo woke up in a much better mood. The night's rest had done wonders for him. He immediately began looking for his sister, but he had trouble finding her. Rose wasn't in the common room when he first came downstairs, nor was she in the Great Hall when he went to get breakfast. Hugo couldn't postpone talking to her a moment longer though, so, after promising his new friends that he would find them later, he headed straight to the place where he was more likely to find his sister.

The library was almost as Hugo remembered it to be. If it weren't for one bookshelf turned in a different direction and Madam Pince's obviously darker hair, he would've sworn it was the exact same place.

Hugo walked the corridors with caution, not letting the nostalgic smell of parchment distract him from whom he may encounter. It was Sunday, and most of the students were outside, but he could still stumble upon someone familiar at any turn. If for some blasted reason that came to be, Hugo would do well in not looking as if he'd just been thrown a Lumos Maxima to the face.

Mum. Mum could be here.

Hugo became tense. The possibility of bumping with his mother kept his pace jittery. He didn't see her though, and neither did he recognise anyone else at the library tables. In fact, Hugo was starting to think that not even his sister would be there when he spotted her. She was sitting alone in a hidden table at the back. Her black hair made Hugo doubt himself for a second, but it was definitely her.

A short sigh escaped Hugo before he took a seat across from her. "I see we're getting started with the homework we haven't been given yet," he said, aiming for a cheerful tone.

Rose raised her eyes to look at him, then returned her attention to her work without giving Hugo so much as a smile. "Not much else to do," she answered sharply.

Once it became clear she wasn't going to say anything more, Hugo leaned forward. "Didn't see you at breakfast. I was hoping we could talk, or something."

"Talk? So you're familiar with the concept of it?" asked Rose, putting her quill down. She sat upright and one of her eyebrows was arched. "Thought you had no time for me, what with all the stupid goblin stories that demand your attention."

Now that was unfair. Fitting in was important, wasn't it? And besides, Roy's story had actually been quite amusing. Whatever she overheard was obviously not the part where the boy's uncle almost tricked that goblin out of front-row Weird Sisters' tickets.

Hugo knew he shouldn't say that though.

"I'm sorry, alright? I know I was a tad distant yesterday."

"That's one way to put it," Rose huffed. She gave a side glance in Madam Pince's direction, before continuing in a whispery but exasperated tone, "You avoided me all day, Hugo! Even when you clearly knew I was looking for you! Then, when we finally get some time alone, your new friends come with the least important thing in the world and you ditch me!"

"I didn't mean to. It's just— they were too persistent and I— well, I— it was more difficult than I'd thought…. Being here… Seeing them," Hugo confessed.

Rose struggled to keep her frown in place. She let out a heavy sigh, turning to the neighbouring tables to check if they were still empty. "You think I don't know that? I was there too. It was difficult for me too. But — contrary to what you may believe — we're in this together," she whispered.

Of course he knew that! The previous day he hadn't been in the mood for lectures but that didn't mean he forgot about Rose. She was the only one who could truly understand how he felt.

I may not have Hagrid, but I'll always have Rose.

"We are! And I am glad. Can't honestly imagine going through this without you…. Still, I needed some space. I knew what you would say and I wasn't feeling like hearing it all over again. I got it the first time. I'm not daft," Hugo snapped. A second later he got a bit ashamed of saying it like that. He lowered his shoulders in defeat, then spoke in a more calm tone, "I'm sorry. I didn't see anything bad with making friends, but if you think —"

"No. It's not— it's not that it's bad. You having friends is actually a good thing," Rose admitted, also relaxing her frown. "Look, I didn't want to upset you either. If you didn't want me to repeat stuff all you had to do was ask. I know I nag a lot sometimes, but I'm your sister, Hugo. I wanted to check on how you were doing. Make sure you were alright. Hex me for caring."

Hugo opened his mouth, but before he could say sorry again, Rose beat him to it.

"It's not only that," she said, turning away. "It was the first day, and seeing them got to me just as much as it did to you. I needed someone to talk to. There were things I wanted to get out of my chest. Things I couldn't say to anyone else and— and you weren't there."

Great. Now I feel like crap.

Rose rubbed her eyes and Hugo pretended she didn't brush a tear away.

The sudden silence took Hugo off guard. He wasn't used to seeing his sister like this. Rose was quick to argue, witty as hell, and as thick-skinned as dragon's hide. Hugo admired how she could be as daring with her words as she was on the Quidditch pitch. However, for all of her confidence and inquisitiveness, Rose seldom let herself sound this vulnerable. Which was one of the reasons why it had been so gut-wrenching to see her crumble down like she did on her birthday.

It was then that Hugo realised that they hadn't talked. He didn't mean talking about seeing their parents again or even about the time travel. They hadn't talked about their father dying. Ever since that happened, they'd both been carrying their grief mostly in silence. Even back in their time they'd limited themselves to being comforted by their family and nodding whenever a stranger addressed them over their mother's shoulders to offer condolences. But Hugo hadn't openly talked about it. Not to Rose, nor anyone else.

He didn't know why he hadn't sought out Rose at least. It was true they had their disagreements from time to time, but Hugo had a great relationship with his sister. They'd talked about her dating Scorpius — before and after it became the biggest gossip at Hogwarts. They'd talked about that kid who had bothered Hugo in first year — before and after James stopped her from hexing the boy's bollocks off. So then… Why hadn't they talked about their father?

It felt wrong.

By no means did Hugo pretend to be the best with words, but he certainly knew how to talk to his sister. He shifted closer to her on his chair. "I'm here now. I'm sorry that I wasn't before. I'll stay by your side from now on. No matter what. Glued like a pixie to its wings," he told her with a wide smile.

"Oh, God, no! I'm your sister. I'm supposed to look after you, but I won't be able to stand you for that long."

Rose let out an honest chuckle, and Hugo joined her with a smile. It was refreshing. At least until Madam Pince shushed them from afar.

They talked in quiet voices for a bit. About everything. When they touched the topic of their father's passing it was actually less unsettling than Hugo had imagined it would be. Sharing that burden with her felt right. Hugo valued Rose' openness. For someone who rarely spoke about her own emotions, she seemed to be better at it than Hugo.

An hour later, they had settled on a comfortable chatter as they both went over some background reading. Even when the bookshelves blocked the large windows from their eyes, Hugo could still feel the sunlight flowing inside the room.

"Why didn't you make some friends too?" Hugo asked Rose after a brief silence, puzzled. His sister was rough around the edges but was quite social as well. She'd never had any sort of problem making friends.

Rose was caught off guard by the sudden question, though it didn't take her long to answer. "It's not as easy for me. I'm in their year, remember? Mum's in my dorm for Merlin's sake! I have to keep my distance," she replied, making an effort to keep her voice at a low volume.

"Oh, right."

Hugo hadn't given much thought to that. His sister had a much tougher task ahead of her. She'd have to be closer to temptation every day. Closer to them. Hugo admired her for that— he didn't think he would be able to carry on like that if he were in her place.

"So, how was it? Sleeping in the same room as Mum?" Hugo asked, as casually as he could.

A sad smile came to Rose. "I'm not going to lie to you. It was a gruelling thing hearing her arrive last night, but I kept my curtains closed. If I wake up every day before her and get to bed at different times, I'll minimise any risk. With time it'll become easier," she explained, her shoulders drooping as if burdened by a heavy load. Rose stared away for a moment before adding, "She was here, you know?"

"What?! Now?!"

Hugo couldn't look over his shoulder fast enough. Rose shoved him on the arm once he turned back around.

"No, not this morning. I meant yesterday. When you were fooling around in the castle with your new friends, she came by," Rose said, pointing at a bookshelf not that far away from where they were. "Picked a book from there and left. It was merely a moment and she didn't even turn this way. It took me aback at first, but I lowered my eyes until I was sure she was gone. What you did just now, on the other hand, would've been a great way of getting her attention," she said, scowling.

Hugo couldn't avoid feeling a bit disappointed. He could almost picture his mother browsing through that bookshelf, just as she did with bookshelves back at home. He missed her more than he could describe..

Maybe I'm strong enough. Maybe I can do my part. In Rose's place, I would be going mental for sure. I wouldn't be able to handle it. But this… This I can do. I must.

Every doubt Hugo had about what they were doing returned. From the twins' wild proposal to his own misgivings. He couldn't contain them all much longer. And Rose had said it herself: 'They were in this together'.

"Err… Rose?"

His sister looked at him questioningly.

"When does it end?" he asked in an almost hushed tone.

"What do you mean? You know the plan. Didn't you say that you didn't want to be reminded of it like a little kid?"

Now that she had no ginger hairs or freckles in sight, Hugo could see the features Rose had in common with their mother more clearly. She got her blue eyes from Dad, but her eyebrows and the look she was giving him were all Mum's.

"I mean after. Once all we've planned happens — supposing it goes on as we planned. Are we staying here? Or are we going back to our time? What would we even return to?"

Rose's expression didn't change, but the time it took for her to speak told Hugo that the straight-forward answers he craved wouldn't come.

"I guess it all depends on what Dumbledore finds out about the Time-Turner," Rose speculated. "If he can send us back, there's no telling what kind of future we could land in. It could be the exact same one we came from or…"

"One with Dad?" Hugo asked, trying to reign in the hope in his heart.

Rose nodded. "Not the one we came from, mind you. It's not like we can have our exact same future but with Dad still in it. Time doesn't work like that. It's unpredictable. The future we could return to might be a vastly different place to the one we remember. Our whole family might be different."

With a pointed look, Rose tried to convey all what she meant by her words. How different the future could be. Hugo was not daft, he understood perfectly well.

Of course things could be a hell of a lot different… Our cousins would be completely different… Mum and Dad might have other kids… They might not even be together in that timeline…

For a dark moment, Hugo considered the possibility of returning to a future where any of them was dead. Where one of his parents died for some other reason in the upcoming years, and they returned to a future without them. Wouldn't that be just rotten luck? A sick joke. Doing all of this only to return and find out that…

No. He couldn't entertain that thought.

"They would remember us though. If we tell them the truth before leaving that is," Rose offered as a silver lining. "They would welcome us. Might even be waiting for us."

Hugo frowned. Having so many options was a nightmare. This was why he hated decision making.

"And which option is better?"

Rose appeared lost at the question, deliberating for a while before making up her mind. "I… Whichever one has us winning the war and where the people we love are safe."

That didn't narrow it much. Not really.

Brilliant. She's always telling me what to do and now that I ask her to do so… She has nothing?

"Which one do you prefer?" he pushed.

Rose thought about it for an excruciatingly long time and Hugo didn't miss that she touched her new watch, almost by reflex. "I don't know. It's complicated… The only thing I'm sure of is that I don't want to leave Mum crying alone. She doesn't deserve it, and Dad wouldn't have liked that," she said firmly. "If her timeline isn't changed— if it isn't replaced by something entirely different and it turns out that there are many futures coexisting at once— then, I… we… I think we ought to return to her. To the future we came from."

The one without Dad.

Hugo nodded. He understood. Rose was right, they couldn't leave Mum. Still, it was downright terrible. How would he have the courage to say goodbye to Dad if given the choice? What was the point of all of this? He felt less like a Gryffindor by the second.

Bloody choices.

He was still thinking about it at lunch. He was still thinking about it hours later, when he was outside with Andrew and the others. He was still thinking about it after the glamours lesson with Professor McGonagall. And, undoubtedly, he was still thinking about it when he went to bed.

The next day, Hugo would have to attend classes again, yet there was something that didn't feel quite right about the whole thing. It wasn't the top of his four-poster bed, which he'd stared at for a while now and was identical to the one he used to have. It wasn't the younger version of his parents not knowing who he was either. No. They'd done nothing wrong. He was the part that was wrong. He was the one who wasn't supposed to be there. He was the one intruding.

Even so, there wasn't much that Hugo could do about it now. He had to go along with the plan and make the best out of his situation — something he was good at. Everything else aside, seeing his parents alive and well was splendid. It was the reason they'd taken that Time-Turner in the first place. In a way, knowing they were well filled Hugo with hope, although hope wasn't necessarily a good thing this time around. The things he hoped for and the things that were good for everyone else were the complete opposite of each other.

That didn't stop him from hoping, though.

Even as he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to sleep, Hugo told himself — not for the first time — that hope was a pesky little thing, and that putting it aside might be as troublesome as tricking a goblin out of good concert tickets.

o0o0o

Whatever Hugo had imagined taking classes in the past would be like, it was certainly not something as startling as what happened the next day.

Things began seemingly normal. Hugo had Double Herbology first thing in the morning and nothing too strange happened then. The professor was different from the one in his time, but Hugo had anticipated that. Uncle Neville — who they were supposed to call Professor Longbottom while at school — wasn't old enough to be teaching at this time. Hugo's future professor was still a student and was most likely somewhere around the castle attending classes of his own. Instead of him, there was an old woman who went by the name of Professor Sprout. A fine teacher, from what Hugo could tell.

The greenhouses were almost the same as Hugo remembered. They even smelt the same. The topic at hand was even wiggentrees, the last thing Hugo had studied in Herbology before travelling back to the past. It was a completely normal class and, in some way, the eerie similarities between the two made it unsettling. Wasn't it supposed to feel different?

The silence was new though.

As Hugo tried to feed a shy bowtruckle in front of him, he realised why. This group of fourth years was less lively than his old one, and even his new friends were considerably quieter than Elvin. For all of his preposterously funny stories, Roy wasn't one for talking in class and barely said a word once he took his seat. Andrew and Todd didn't look as stone-faced, though their whispers were more gossipy than funny.

Hugo couldn't help but feel a tad nostalgic. It was a good thing to have friends who let him focus on his lessons, however — and as much as he used to complain about Elvin's loudness — Hugo had grown to enjoy the occasional sassy remarks from his future friend. Elvin didn't have the penchant for disaster that some of his cousins had, but he always knew what to say to keep a class from turning dreadfully dull.

I'm never going to see him again either.

A bowtruckle jumped out of the wiggentree before Hugo could be hit by a train of guilty sadness. Hugo dove to catch it, and managed to do so without hurting the little fellow. However, Hugo slipped out of his seat and landed on his arse.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my, is everything alright back there, Wallace? I did mention that bowtruckles were rather agile," Professor Sprout asked from the front as laughter echoed throughout the greenhouse.

Brilliant. First class and I'm already making a fool out of myself.

Hugo hurried back to his seat holding the sneaky bowtruckle in his hands. On the way there, he noticed the giggles from the girls on the next table. Well, from most of them. A pretty girl with tanned skin huffed and turned away instead.

"Don't even bother," Andrew whispered after following Hugo's stare. "That's Romilda Vane. Everyone not named Harry Potter is beneath her, apparently."

"I wasn't—" Hugo mumbled.

"What? Staring? Sure you weren't," Andrew answered, going back to his work before Hugo could find an excuse to justify his flushed ears.

All in all, Herbology was alright. The next class after break, however, was an absolutely awful ordeal. History of Magic appeared to drag on forever without Elvin making jokes about Professor Binns, causing Hugo's attention to fade away from time to time. Whenever it happened in his time he'd usually force himself to refocus on the lesson at hand, but in his current situation Hugo's thoughts wandered to his parents more often than not.

What could they be doing now? Rose mentioned having Arithmancy, so Mum's probably with her. But what about Dad? Does he take Arithmancy as well?... No ruddy way, not in a million years!... But then… Where is he?

Looking at the walls as if he could see right through them, Hugo tried to imagine what his father might be doing. He imagined him somewhere around the castle with Uncle Harry, surely doing something fun. Maybe even practising Quidditch. It was such a trivial thing to wonder about, but it was hard not to. Hugo had seen his father alive just two days ago, and most of what he'd gotten since had been distant and far-too-short glimpses.

A bleeding shame when there are so many things I want to ask him.

The conversation Hugo had with Rose was also in the back of his mind. He didn't think he had the heart to leave his mother alone in his old timeline, but what was the point of coming back here if they were just going to lose their father again?

Perhaps they had rewritten history already. Perhaps their old timeline had poofed away and there was only the here and now. Perhaps this was their endgame. Or, as Rose said, a new timeline with the best of both worlds. That would be the perfect solution.

What about Lily though? Hugo asked himself. What about Al, and Fred, and Molly, and Louis? ...What about Teddy, or Elvin, or everyone else who hasn't been born yet?... Is there a solution where they get to live as well?

Defeated, Hugo lowered his head. Suddenly realising that goblin rebellions might be better than torturing himself for the umpteenth time, Hugo forced himself to concentrate again.

He saw his parents again at lunch. Dad had been talking with a few Gryffindor boys and had a short argument with Aunt Ginny, but when he'd said something that made Mum laugh, his frown had turned into an awkward smile. Hugo couldn't understand what any of it had been about. He'd witnessed their conversation from too far away and for not as much time as he would've liked.

Rotten luck.

As it happened, Hugo's luck only got worse after reaching the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

It was a rather different setting to the one he could recall. The room itself was way gloomier than it had been under Professor Podmore. To be fair, there wasn't even anything to be compared. The curtains were drawn over the windows, effectively killing all hope of a well illuminated learning space. The lack of light wasn't all bad though, because the walls were covered with portraits of people suffering a variety of horrid curses and looking at them in detail would've given Hugo a wretched stomach.

This is it. This is the place where happiness comes to meet its end.

Hugo leaned to his right and tapped on Andrew's shoulder. "Who's the madman who had the brilliant idea of calling this a classroom? I doubt you can read a book in a place this dark."

That was, of course, a rhetorical question. Hugo knew the professor was Severus Snape, and he'd been looking forward to meeting Al's namesake in person. He hadn't known what to expect, though. Most people considered him a war hero in the future, but from Uncle George's stray comments Hugo could tell the man hadn't been the easiest person to get along with.

He certainly hadn't expected Snape to be a moleman.

At any rate, Andrew was taken aback by Hugo's question, almost as if he'd long come to accept this as the most normal of learning environments. "Snape is not very fond of the sunlight. Says it's distracting to have people looking outside."

"Is he a bat?"

"No, Mr Wallace. Contrary to what you might've heard, I am not a bat," the aforementioned professor said as he strode into the room in dark robes, looking very much like a bat. There were surprised gasps and screeches over the place as people dragged their chairs across the floor to sit up straight. It wasn't until the man was standing in the front of the room and silence had taken over that Severus Snape addressed Hugo again, almost in a drawl, "I am not accustomed to the wonders that homeschooling has to offer. However, no one attending this class should feel impaired by something as trivial as a lack of a reading light. It is not my job to teach fourth years the Lighting Charm or any other basic spellwork. Am I understood?"

There were unanimous nods of agreement, even from Hugo. He undoubtedly knew how to cast a Lighting Charm. It was just that he wasn't expecting to need one.

"It will be five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr Wallace," Snape added, giving Hugo a pointed look.

What? But I've never— And I only—

Hugo wasn't planning on protesting, but Andrew tugged on his arm in warning before he could even think about it.

With a flick of his wand, Professor Snape sent his heavy desk and chalkboard to land softly against the back wall. Then, he turned to the class. "That being said, there will be no reading in today's lesson. There's plenty of work to be done in relation to actual hex-deflecting, so I'll be subjecting myself to your pathetic excuses for wand-waving. Let's all hope the practice doesn't prove to be as challenging for Mr Wallace as lighting his wand."

Hugo gaped in disbelief.

Was he for real?

Whatever Hugo had imagined the class to be, it was certainly not what he got. Defence Against the Dark Arts had never been his favourite subject — that distinction belonged to Care of Magical Creatures — but he'd never struggled in the class too much either. In contrast, Defence with Severus Snape was like spending the night purging yourself of poison, and not a small amount either because the man seemed to be completely determined to make his class the worst possible experience for everyone.

Throughout their practice — which consisted in some students throwing hexes and others blocking them — Professor Snape pointed out all of their mistakes. He did so not in a courteous or constructive manner, but with a rude tone and loudly in front of the whole class. He asked a couple of questions to the class, however it appeared as though he only did so for the sole joy of people getting it wrong. His questions were tricky and overly difficult, and the one time Hugo raised his hand to answer, the professor ignored him as if he weren't there.

How could anyone speak so highly of this man? Why would anyone choose to name their child after him? More importantly, what sort of mushroom was Uncle Harry on when he decided to do as such?

Those were questions that Hugo might never get the answer to.

The spells they were practising weren't all that difficult though. Hugo wasn't the best at dodging, but he could produce a Shield Charm well enough. He also had a good grasp of the counter-courses they were practising to deflect basic hexes. Professor Snape had a preference for using Weakening Hexes or Impediment Jinxes to attack, and he would sneer when someone threw something like a Twitchy-Ear Hex — which he considered foolish and ineffectual in a real battle.

Hugo watched the professor for most of the class. In part to see what he was complaining about in others' wandwork so he wouldn't make the same mistakes, but also simply to observe the professor. Perhaps he paid too much attention to him, as Andrew got him halfway through the lesson.

"Titillando!" the boy shouted.

Hugo was thrown backwards with a spark. The push wasn't that strong, but he lost his balance and landed on his arse for the second time in the day. He couldn't complain or even frown about it, because he soon realised just what spell had hit him. He burst out in laughter, victim to the ghostly hands that were tickling him senseless.

"Enough! E-enough! Make…. Make it stop!" Hugo called between laughs after a few seconds, twisting about on the floor.

Andrew rushed to cast the counter-curse with a massive grin upon his face. "Got you there, mate," he said triumphantly, "Finite!"

The relief came at once, and Hugo raised his head to thank Andrew only to find an odd look on his face. "What is it?" he asked.

But Andrew didn't answer. The boy just stared at him as if startled. Actually, most of the surrounding students had turned to look at Hugo as well — even Romilda Vane, with her fake disinterest.

"Blimey," muttered Todd as he and Roy pushed their way through the small crowd. Hugo noticed that Todd's ears were twitching.

"What's going on?" Hugo asked again, concerned now. He touched his face, only to feel the shape of his nose.

Oh crap.

Professor Snape came to see what the commotion was all about. He didn't seem as surprised, but one of his eyebrows was raised.

"I don't know what happened, sir. I just cast the counter-spell — Finite Incantatem. I didn't mean for his hair to start turning red," Andrew explained.

Red? Bugger!

Hugo passed his hands over his Weasley hair, not sure of what to do.

The professor huffed, unpreoccupied. "Only boneheaded fools can cast the general counter-spell for everything as some sort of universal tool and expect it to work as intended. There's a reason why we have specific counter-curses," Snape told Andrew.

"But professor, I tried the general version with the Tickling Hex the other day. It worked just fine," a girl argued.

"Does this look fine to you, Miss Robins?" Snape spat derisively, then turned to Hugo. "And what are you waiting for? Go see it fixed."

If anyone found it odd that Snape hadn't tried to fix the situation himself, it was something Hugo didn't stay long enough to find out. He picked up his wand and bolted out of the classroom at once.

Merlin! Blasted counter-spell! And I don't know how to put the glamours back on yet. Not properly, anyway.

Hugo ran through the corridors, not minding the chances of being caught by Filch. At the moment, finding Professor McGonagall was more urgent than any detention he might be awarded — not like he'd ever been in detention before.

The task wasn't easy. Students wandered around every corner, and even wayward ghosts made Hugo jump in panic. He covered his hair with his hands as best as he could, as if its auburn tone was such a scandalous thing to bear. He sighed in relief when he reached McGonagall's office, but grew anxious when he discovered that the witch wasn't there.

What do I do now? What do I do now?

He paced back and forth desperately, feeling every set of curious eyes judging him. He could almost hear Dumbledore accusing him of breaking their agreement, of exposing himself deliberately.

Thinking he had no better option, Hugo made his way towards the headmaster's office. However, he had barely put a foot on the first step of the courtyard's staircase when he crashed into someone and fell back.

Of all the people he could've crashed into, it turned out to be his sister.

"Oi! Careful! Why—? Hugo? What are you doing?!" Rose shouted, dumbfounded at his much more reddish hair.

The scene oddly reminded Hugo of the day they arrived in the past, only that this time it was him who had landed on his arse. For the third time in the day nonetheless.

It would have actually been funny if Hugo wasn't so fretful and jittery.

"I didn't mean to!" he hurried to explain as he stood up. He didn't miss his sister's scandalised frown. "It was an accident! Andrew hit me with a counter-spell in Defence Against the Dark Arts! It reverted the glamours!"

"Shush!" Rose hushed him at once, looking at her sides frantically, though no one was around.

Right. They couldn't even acknowledge that there were glamours placed on them in the first place.

"Sorry, it's just that— Nevermind."

Hugo looked over his shoulder. He was thinking of asking his sister to leave the scowling for later, but she was apparently more fixed on the problem than on finding a solution.

Not like Hugo could ignore her. Even though she was shorter than he was, Rose wasn't someone easy to brush aside.

"Err, Rose—?" he tried without much success.

"Do you know how dangerous this is?" Rose interrupted him. She kept looking to her sides nervously and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "She's up there! She could be coming back this way any moment!" she cried, pointing behind her back to the courtyard's small staircase.

Mum.

Hugo's eyes widened. "She's coming?!"

"Yes! Now! I saw her at the library, but we have Potions next. She'll come this way," Rose told him. "Why haven't you been to Professor McGonagall yet?"

"I'm coming from there! She wasn't in her office! Who knows where in Merlin's shabby slippers is she! She could be in the loo for all I know!" Hugo answered, exasperated. His heart was racing, and he kept throwing frightened looks at the staircase behind Rose.

Mum might be coming down any moment. What if she sees me like this? Will she think anything of it? ...Of course she will. I look too much like Dad for her not to.

"Dumbledore then," Rose suggested, as if it hadn't occurred to Hugo yet.

"That's where I was heading before you stopped me!"

Suddenly, footsteps echoed and both siblings jumped in their place, turning wide-eyed towards the staircase. Hugo's heart skipped a beat, though he sighed the moment he saw the footsteps belonged to a pair of Slytherins. One of them — a dark-skinned boy — looked at him in disgust before continuing on his way.

Once she recovered her breath, Rose turned to Hugo. "Then go! Go to Dumbledore! You should handle this before more people see you!"

The situation was beyond baffling. It was only the first day back in classes and he was already struggling to keep his disguise. He should probably do as Rose said and go looking for Dumbledore… Unless…

"What are you waiting for?!" his sister almost shrieked, noticing his hesitance.

"Rose…?" Hugo asked in the lowest of voices, not meeting her eyes. "What if I don't?"

"What if you don't what?! Go to Dumbledore? Have you lost your marbles?!"

Hugo stared at Rose. Her hair was black and straight, even so, beneath it he could still see his same rule-adhering sister.

"Professor Snape saw that it was an accident. It wouldn't be our fault, and she might not find out anything anyway."

That left his sister almost frozen, only able to stare back at him in disbelief. Was she preparing a monumental row? Or was she considering his wild proposal? Hugo couldn't tell. He wasn't sure why he'd suggested it in the first place either. He blamed it on the twins' barmy words, which had only turned more alluring since he arrived at Hogwarts.

"Hugo…" she said slowly, but found herself at a loss for words as her eyebrows knitted together.

The proposal was as stupid as it was outlandish. So what if his mother noticed his Weasley appearance? It wasn't like she could find out the truth no matter how hard she looked for it. Not if they didn't say anything. It would just guarantee that they would have her on their tails looking for an explanation. It would accomplish absolutely nothing.

But… She would know something about me. Something real.

Hugo sighed. Rose was probably right, this was stupid. He stared back at her guiltily, but before he could decide on what to say, more steps echoed. The two of them turned again in panic, only this time Rose didn't keep her arms crossed. There was determination on his sister's look when she pulled out her wand and aimed it straight to Hugo's face.

The boy jerked in surprise of course — who wouldn't? — yet Rose's spell was over in a second. It hadn't been painful and Hugo could feel it doing its work. Rose had just put her wand down when Hugo was startled by his mother passing inches away. Mum had a book tightly pressed against her chest as she walked by, however, the whole thing was over in seconds. She barely gave them a passing glance before disappearing in the next corridor.

Rose and Hugo stayed silent for a while, unsure of what to say. Hugo knew his hair was black as the night again. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"I guess you got a hold of the glamour charms," he murmured.

With slow steps, Rose moved to stand in front of him. She studied his face as if looking for flaws in her work. It made Hugo uncomfortable, though not as much as when she turned to stare directly into his eyes with a look of both anger and pity. "This didn't happen," she said at last. "We were lucky my last-minute spell worked well enough, but the glamours are nowhere near perfect. Go find Professor McGonagall. Fix it," she ordered. After that, she walked away, only to stop a few steps after with a sigh and turn back to Hugo. Her frown had vanished by then, leaving only sadness. "We'll talk later."

Then Rose left, following the same path their mother had taken mere seconds before. Hugo was left behind with his head in shambles. He wasn't sure of much then, except that having Rose make the choice for him hadn't made him feel better after all.

I know that I've made this story and angsty chap after the next one. Sorry, it kind of needed to be. However, next chap is going to be much more fun and - I am sure - a crowd-pleaser.

Next Chapter: A Lesson on Half-Truths (Rose POV)