Chapter 3
"Albus! Al, wake up!"
He opened his eyes and looked around him, panicking as he saw that his surroundings were all blurry and out of focus. Someone slammed his glasses on his face and suddenly the world seemed clearer. Both Scorpius and Rose were looking down at him. Slowly, Al got to his feet, glad that the world had finally stopped spinning. The three of them were standing in the clock tower on what seemed to be a bright, beautiful day. Confused, Al shifted his gaze towards his two mates.
"What the hell happened?"
Rose looked lost and Scorpius ran a hand through his blond hair, like he always did when he was nervous. None of them seemed to have an answer to his question. Silently, Al made his way towards the huge window, staring down at the forbidden forest and the lake in front of the castle. Nothing looked out of place, except for the fact that there weren't any students on the grounds; today was Saturday and the park should have been full of kids enjoying the last few weeks of sunshine. But there wasn't anyone in sight. Scorpius spoke up slowly.
"Is it possible that we all fainted last night and just woke up?" Rose's face brightened and she clapped her hands together.
"Yes!" she gasped, seeming to be grasping at straws. "That explains why Goyle is gone, why it's suddenly the morning and why our clothes are all wrinkled and Al's hair is messier than usual!"
"But there was spinning. Something strange happened." Al murmured as Rose frowned and looked desperate. "It looks like summer outside when we're supposed to be in autumn. The castle looks empty when it's supposed to be the weekend. And the broken pieces of the time turner are gone. What if-"
"Stop it! Don't even dare say it!" Rose raised her hand in front of herself like she was stopping traffic.
"Did we travel back in time?" Albus said slowly, his mind spinning.
"Shut up Al!" Rose spat at him. "We didn't, we couldn't have!"
"Well why not? Don't you remember what Goyle was trying to do?"
"The guy was mad, Al, ok? He was talking nonsense!"
Albus turned back towards the window, twirling his wand absentmindedly in his right hand. Then, suddenly, he stopped.
"The war memorial." He whispered and Scorpius took a step towards him.
"What?"
"The war memorial. The one that was erected after the battle of Hogwarts, with the names of the people killed."
"Oh, I thought you meant the other war memorial." Rose said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. When Al didn't go on, she asked, irritated and spooked: "Well, what about it?"
"It isn't there." Al pointed towards the castle grounds. "It's gone. Or it hasn't been made yet. Do you see?" His cousin gasped and took a hasty step forward, clutching the front of her robes. The two of them were well acquainted with the memorial; their family would always go once a year to pay their respect to the people killed and Al's father would always make a speech to talk about all the innocent people that had been lost; Teddy's parents, Uncle George's twin brother, and many others. Rose raised a hand to her trembling lips and blurted out.
"It isn't here. Why isn't it here?" The three kids had never known Hogwarts without the war memorial; to see the grounds without it was like seeing Al's dad without his lightening scar. Rose started hyperventilating and Scorpius grabbed her hands, turning her away from the window towards him.
"Rose," he whispered in a voice that was intended to sound soothing as Al turned towards his panicking cousin and looked at her in worry, "it's going to be alright."
"No!" she screeched, "we couldn't have traveled back in time; it's impossible, simply impossible!"
"Rose," Al took over, hands on her shoulders, "breathe." She took a deep breath and stared at him in utter horror.
"But what are we going to do?" she asked, tears filling her eyes. "It's 1998; the middle of the war! Where are we going to go? How will we get back? And what about our parents? What are they going to think when we vanish from school?" Her eyes widened and she gasped. "Our parents! They're seventeen! They're searching for Hocruxes! What if we run into them? What are we supposed to do? Al! Say something!" But her cousin only shook his head wordlessly; he didn't have an answer to any of these questions and his head was starting to pound something crazy. Desperate, he turned his gaze to Scorpius, who shrugged and rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"We can't stay here. Let's go down to the Great Hall; maybe we can find someone who'd help…" Al started uncertainly and Rose shook her head.
"Are you crazy? We can't tell anyone about this!"
"Why not? Someone might be able to send us back!" his face suddenly brightened as an idea dawned unto him. "Dumbledore! He's a genius, right? He'd know what to do, he could send us back!"
"But he might already be dead." Scorpius said, looking out the window again. "He died sometimes in the summer of 1997, didn't he?"
"June 18th," Rose agreed breathlessly. "And this is 1998. We're too late."
"But we don't know for sure this is 1998, do we?"
"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" Al asked, and Rose nodded hesitantly, wrapping her arms around herself. Before leaving, Albus grabbed the invisibility cloak from the floor and shoved it into his robes' pocket. Together they made their way down towards the Great Hall.
oOo
"It's so quiet." Rose whispered as they roamed the familiar yet uncommonly deserted corridors.
"I don't understand. Where is everyone?" Albus muttered as they passed yet another empty classroom.
"It might be summer holidays." Scorpius suddenly said and the two others nodded.
"That would explain the fact that there's absolutely nobody around." Albus muttered as they approached the entrance to the Great Hall. At that moment, even though his opinion of James remained unchanged, he would have given anything to see him come out of the room, along with Dom, Roxy and Fred, like on any Saturday morning. But instead of his brother's messy mop of ginger hair, it was the tight grey bun of the Headmistress that greeted them as they were about to come inside. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and without wasting a second, she started pushing them away from the door.
"Professor, what-" Al started, bewildered.
"Snape is on his way out." She screeched in his ear and he winced but remained quiet, although still confused. McGonagall shoved the three of them inside an empty classroom, closing the door quietly behind them. Then she turned around and grabbed Al's sleeve, steering him away from the other two, who simply watched with wide eyes.
"Potter," she started, "who are these kids and what on earth are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the Burrow; don't you realize how utterly irresponsible-" but then stopped abruptly, eyes gazing at the empty spot on Al's forehead. Rose sensed what was going on and quickly stepped besides Albus to face the witch.
"Headmistress," she started, "this isn't what you think. He's not Harry Potter. Could you please tell us today's date?"
McGonagall's eyes were bulging out as Scorpius joined Rose's side, holding his wand away from his body, ready to defend himself if the professor was to fire a spell at the three of them. But the old witch simply stared at them and croaked out:
"What did you call me?" Major whoops. Rose bit her lip and cast a worried look at Scorpius, wondering what possible answer wouldn't sound crazy, but coming up blank.
"Professor," Al tried slowly, cautiously, "would it be possible to speak to Albus Dumbledore?"
As the three kids stared at her hopefully, McGonagall found her voice again. "Professor Dumbledore passed away a couple of weeks ago, I'm afraid. Today is July 28th 1997. Who are you?"
oOo
It was simply incomprehensible. One minute she'd been having breakfast with Filius, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Snape was now sitting where Albus always had, and the next she found herself locked up in a classroom with a Harry Potter-lookalike and two unknown teens who addressed her as "Headmistress".
Very strange indeed.
As she announced, with a lump in her throat, that Albus had passed away some time ago, the three kids gasped, the blond boy muttering something about how "that stupid git" had "messed up his timing". Then, they shared a long look; a moment of silent communication passed. The girl kept shaking her head stubbornly and finally the black haired boy snapped:
"Rose, it might be our only chance at getting out of here!"
"All students were supposed to leave the grounds weeks ago." But even as she said those words, McGonagall knew these three couldn't be attending Hogwarts. No, there wasn't a first year she didn't know the name of, and these three looked like they could already be in sixth year. They were from somewhere else. "Who are you?" Professor McGonagall asked once more and the girl screeched out as the blond boy started to say something.
"We can't, we can't! It could change everything!" then she started to sob desperately in her hands and the blond boy patted her shoulder awkwardly. The black haired boy looked resolved as he took a step forward towards McGonagall who was rooted on the spot.
"Professor, this might sound hard to believe, but we're from the future."
"No! Al, don't!" the girl yelled. Ignoring her, he went on:
"And we've been sent here by… someone who wants to change the outcome of… something. To prevent something from happening. Only we don't want to do that, because it could destroy life as we know it. Could you help us go back to our time without the future getting altered?" he'd said all of this without taking a breath and was now looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to solve everything. Only it wasn't this easy. Professor McGonagall took a deep breath and stood up straighter, working hard to think, to get past her astonishment, the fact that the girl had called her "headmistress" and how breathtakingly similar the boy called "Al" was to Harry Potter. She had to be in control once more, and just for now, she chose to believe their story.
"From what year are you from?" she asked, voice steady. She directed her question at the Harry-lookalike, as the other two seemed unsure as to whether or not they should be truthful with her.
"2022." He answered slowly.
"That's impossible!" she said at once. "Nobody could travel back in time twenty-five years. There's no possible way."
"I know it sounds crazy, but it's the truth."
"How did you do it?" she asked, voice sceptical and the young wizard hesitated before admitting.
"I don't really know. A broken time-turner and some spell sent us here. We didn't recognize the incantation. Can you send us back?"
"It's not that simple, Potter." She snapped automatically, a reflex reaction. Then she raised her eyebrows, suddenly figuring it out as she gazed at the pale, skinny black haired boy with the emerald green eyes and yet absent scar. "You are a Potter, aren't you?"
The boy looked unsure, and cast a worried look at his friends, but already a feeling of hope was seizing her.
"He survives. He defeats him. We win this war." She whispered, feeling her eyes widen.
The boy hesitated and the girl ran forward to put herself directly in front of him, grabbing his hand to stop whatever he was about to say and looking reproachfully as the old witch.
"Don't!" she ordered in a powerful voice. "We can't say anything! You know we can't. You have to get us someplace safe while you try to figure this out and send us back. If anyone knew about us…" she shuddered, biting her lip. "They would try to get information and change the future if they weren't happy with it. Everything could get messed up! You have to help us." Her bossy and confident tone was somehow familiar, but McGonagall couldn't put her finger on it, although the bright ginger hair informed her that she was most certainly dealing with another Weasley offspring.
"I don't see what I can possibly do about this situation, miss," she answered, unwavering, even as the young witch yelled at her.
"So… you don't know how to send us back?" the blond boy spoke up for the first time hesitantly. She looked at him, finding his features to be familiar as well. He was a Malfoy, this was certain. Malfoy and Potter, together in the same room and not firing spells at one another.
Very strange indeed.
"I'm afraid not."
The girl made a noise that was half-snort, half-sob. She crossed the room in two angry strides and slumped on a desk, crossing her arms on her chest. The two boys didn't move. McGonagall cleared her throat.
"I might still be able to help you." A pair of relieved faces met that sentence, as well as a suspicious one. "Although I'd need all the information I can get to do so – nothing that would compromise the future or alter the time stream, of course." She added quickly as the girl opened her mouth to disagree once more. "So," she turned towards the black-haired boy. "let's try this again, shall we? Who are you?"