On the scale of Voldemort possessing him to a round of Dodge Dudley, the pounding in Harry`s head came in just about halfway between the two. Blinking through the cloud of pain, Harry opened his eyes to once again discover he had slept in a place that was not his room, but at least this time he was on a bed.
Red hair flashed in Harry`s fuzzy peripheral vision, and someone touched the side of his head gently.
"Mrs. Weasley?"
There was a shuffle as the girl jolted back in surprise. "Oh, you`re awake!"
"Ginny?" Harry tried to sit up, but the explosion in his head protested. "Where am I?"
"Shhh. Don`t get yourself worked up, Harry, everything`s okay. The others are over talking with Madame Pomfrey, but she said you`re going to be alright. You`ve had quite a day."
He rubbed his eyes. The Department of Mysteries had seemed so long ago now, but mere hours had passed since Sirius had died, Voldemort had possessed him, and Dumbledore had finally told him the truth of his fate. "I had the strangest dream that I went back in time to save everyone…"
"Well, that sounds brilliantly heroic, but you`re back in 1976 now."
"What?" Harry shot up, triggering another rocket of pain to flare down his body. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Lily Evans smiled kindly and put a concerned hand on his shoulder to keep him from causing any further damage by sitting up too fast.
"You`re lucky the bludger only clipped you, but you still took a pretty nasty fall." Lily`s eyes sharpened a bit, and she reached out a hand to touch his scar. "Oh Harry, what`s this? It couldn`t be from the bludger…"
Harry jolted back, paying the price in throbbing agony. "Nothing. Just an old scar. How do you know my name?"
"Mattie said it when we were bringing you in, she`s over with Madame Pomfrey and the others right now, helping mix some sort of pain-soothing remedy. I`m Lily, by the way. Lily Evans."
From the other side of the room, Harry heard a clamor of cheering, and Madame Pomfrey hustled over, followed by a parade of riotous Gryffindors.
"Good, you`re awake." The somber healer said, as Harry marveled at the absence of wrinkles. "Drink this."
"He`s not dead!"
"Ha, you owe me ten sickles!"
Harry downed the smoking potion he was handed, glad for an excuse not to have to address the crowd for a while, and Madame Pomfrey seemed too busy with something in her office to shoo them away.
"We were going to write your parents, but nobody knew who you were." Remus said, standing next to Lily, who had gotten off the bed. "Are you a transfer student or something? What`s your last name?"
Panicked, Harry wracked his brain. James would know they weren`t cousins, he wasn`t that thick…A second before Longbottom could come out of his mouth, Harry`s eyes locked with a guy with the same kind smile and mop of hair as Neville.
Right before he could give up, however, a phrase wandered into Harry`s head from the very back of his memory.
Me dad's a muggle; Mam's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out.
Perfect.
"Finnigan. Harry Finnigan."
The doors to the hospital wing burst open, and Harry recognized the voices before he could even see the oncoming group of boys over the shoulders of the gathered mob.
"I hope that guy`s okay, he`s the best seeker I've seen in years. Although it did seem a little too good to be true…"
"I`m gonna kill Bell if that little git got any blood on my uniform." Sirius commented as they came into view, Harry`s conscious jolting at the sight of his younger godfather, whose good looks and bad boy attitude not yet hardened by twelve years in Azkaban, or, eventually, blasted into a veil…
But nobody was really paying much attention to Harry`s gaping at the men who were previously both doomed, because there was a very angry and very protective (and guilty) redhead busy chewing out the oncoming Marauders. Well, at least one of them, anyway.
"James Potter, you arrogant twat, stop making this about you! You`ve caused this poor guy to take a bludger to the head!"
Reddening, James could think of nothing better to reply with than "It`s not like I asked him to!"
"'Didn`t ask him to'… you`re such a conceded arse! He saved your bloody neck and is lying wounded in bed, barely able to move, right in front of you, and all you`ve got to say is that you didn`t ask him to."
Even though he knew it was probably normal of them to spontaneously break out into rows, Harry felt guilty about causing his parents to fight. "Honestly, it`s not that bad. I`ve regrown all the bones in my arm once, so this is nothing."
Mattie, Neville`s dad, and some of the other gathered quiddich players that Harry didn`t know the names of nodded in sort of empathetic comradery. Quiddich wasn`t a game for people who couldn`t handle at least a few bruises. Harry looked to his father for a sign of the same knowing respect, but was met with a begrudging glaze instead that chilled him to the core.
"Do you want us to write your parents, Harry, and tell them what happened?" Lily asked, still near to his side. The closer she got, the more James` eyes sharpened.
Well, there was no doubt Harry`s parents didn`t already know what happened, not that he could tell them that. "Er…they`re dead."
A hush fell over the group.
"Oh, Harry…" Lily squeezed his arm compassionately. "Who do you live with?"
"My aunt and uncle, but they wouldn`t mind I've been hurt, it would give them a good laugh if anything." Harry pushed himself fully upright, attempting to get out of the bed. All this pity was making him uncomfortable, even more so than mention of his past usually spurred, due to the unwavering resentful blast coming from James` direction.
Another chorus of pity emitted from the gathered crowd. Lily looked even more guilt-laden than before, which was not helping things for Harry.
Leaning over to Sirius, James whispered something typical of Draco Malfoy, just as Madame Pomfrey emerged again from her office, only just noticing the huddled mass around her patient.
"Out! All of you, out, you`re upsetting the poor boy." She demanded, much to Harry`s relief. "Everyone, come on, clear out!"
As she was leaving, his mother turned and gave a small wave, which Harry happily reciprocated. James caught his eye though, and Harry once again felt his heart sink.
Once Madame Pomfrey had closed the doors firmly behind them, she returned to Harry, inspecting his head carefully. "Quite a bump you`ve got here. What did you say your name was?"
"Harry Finnigan."
"Well, Mr. Finnigan, it was lucky your friends brought you straight to me. You haven`t broken anything, and that potion should help with healing those bruises and decrease any possible concussion you may have." She fixed his covers, and Harry noticed for the first time a bandage on his chest, peeking out from under Sirius` Quiddich robes. "I put some herbs on that cut on your chest, now that was a nasty wound. It was a miracle I managed to get all those shards of glass out. That necklace you landed on, or what`s left of it, is in the bowl on the nightstand, I didn`t know if you still wanted it."
Harry picked up the bowl, looking sadly at the bits of bloodstained metal and glass littering the porcelain. The chain was snapped, and the circles bent, reflecting a warped version of him in the remaining red and gold.
It had been in this very wing Harry had learned the secret of that tiny timepiece, the first time he`d used it to save Sirius. Now, it had been destroyed on a much bigger quest to ultimately save the same man.
The last time turner.
Hermione was going to kill him.
That is, if she ever saw him again. If Harry had been worried about getting back before, that was noting to the hopeless confusion he felt now, like a turtle on its back.
Harry`s moment of crisis was lost on Madame Pomfrey, who was still bustling about, and had replaced the bowl back on the nightstand. "I`m going to have to ask you some questions to make sure you haven't got a concussion, alright, Mr. Finnigan?"
"Sure." He replied, still off in a daze of existential worry.
"What`s your house?"
"Gryffindor."
"The headmaster?"
"Dumbledore."
"The year?"
Absentmindedly, Harry said, "Nineteen ninety-six."
Pomfrey stopped cleaning the blood from the bowl to cast a concerned look. "Ninety-six? Perhaps I should have you stay overnight…"
"Sorry, that just slipped out, I meant seventy-six." Harry said quickly, covering his panic with a fake grin. "Can I go back to my dorm room to rest now? It`s been a long day, and I`d prefer to spend the night in my own bed."
Still a tad wary, she reluctantly conceded. "I suppose. Don`t get up to anything strenuous for the next few days, and don`t even think about getting back on a broom for at least a week."
Ignoring the increased pounding in his skull, Harry swept out of the bed and made his way out of the hospital wing. The walls of Hogwarts had never seemed so foreign. The throbbing of his head was rhythmic, like a ticking clock, as if to mock his loss and underline the dilemma. Time was most certainly not on his side.
Within minutes of dizzy wandering, he was hopelessly lost. Things were not looking good. Harry slumped down on the steps of a staircase, hoping it wasn`t a moving one and the world would stop spinning soon.
His noble actions were something Harry had always prided himself in, but he began to wonder if this haphazardly thought out apparent sacrifice had been the best choice.
The war in his head made it impossible to think.
One thought was able to keep Harry upright, though, giving him the strength to lean against a wall instead of pain old collapsing: at least he could still save his parents and Sirius.
"Merlin, are you okay?"
For the second time that day, Harry found himself looking up at the concerned face of Mattie Bell.
"Harry, what`s wrong? I thought you were in the hospital wing?"
His hand went to the bandage at the base of his neck. Mattie sat down next to him, and inhaled sharply as she lifted the bandages slightly. "What was that from?"
Harry might have been concussed, but he was no fool. He knew better than to spout out the truth to every passerby. However, he needed someone's help, because clearly this was not going to work if he continued on alone in this state, without a plan or a time turner.
"I fell on the time turner."
She narrowed her eyes. "You were carrying around a time turner?"
"I`ve been carrying around a time turner since 1996."
"No way. How did you get so far back?"
Blinking, Harry tried to focus on his hands, but his headache just worsened.
"Hold on," Mattie said, preforming an anti-engorgement charm. "Better?"
He took a deep breath. The pounding subsided. "A bit."
"Alright, Mr. Time Traveling Seeker. Are you going to tell me why you went back twenty years to try out for sports and stumble around the halls? I promise I won`t blow your cover."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "You were the one who conned me into trying out."
"Fair enough, but that's beside the point."
"Dumbledore." Harry said finally. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."
"Fine." She sighed, helping him to his feet. "Swear you`ll let me in on your futuristic M.O. later then, okay?"
If Dumbledore didn`t send him straight back home to 1996, it would be helpful to have someone Harry`s parents and Lily knew to convince them that they were in danger and had to listen to him. "Deal."