Hm. Time Turner chapters kind of hard for me to write. Sorry bout that. Sorry if the speed's crappy, I'm trying, really!

Draco: What do you want from my life, filthy muggle?

Me: I AM NO MUGGLE! I AM A DEMIGOD WITCH!

Draco: Mudblood, then?

Me: I will punch your face off. Say the stinkin' disclaimer.

Draco: *smirks* My fangirls will protect me.

*millions of fangirls out there squeal*

Me: I'll send VOLDEMORT AT YOU.

Voldemort: MY fangirls will protect me!

*silence* *Bellatrix squeals, "Marry me!"*

Draco: M-my lord! U-u-uh…Nicoisawesome doesn't own! *bows and runs*

"Are you okay?"

3rd POV

"Aaaannnnddddddd…there we go!" Celia watched their past selves come out of the tree. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Immature," she muttered, loud enough for her to hear. Celia gave her a light shove and looked back at the past Hermione, Ron, Celia, and Harry.

Hermione frowned. "Harry, Celia…how come the dementors didn't get Sirius?"

Automatically, so quickly it was eerie, Harry and Celia replied at the exact same time: "It was a Patronus Charm." They looked at each other.

Celia's gauze had fallen off long ago, and she touched her blood-crusted temples slightly. The blood wove all the way down her hair, hard and stiff.

"I saw…before I passed out. It was two people…but maybe I wasn't thinking straight…" Harry swallowed hard. He didn't want to believe it…he didn't want to give himself false hope…and yet…

Celia leaned forward eagerly. "Who did you think it was?"

Harry cast his eyes down. "I think…" he bit his lip. "I think it was my parents. I think the man was my dad, and there was a woman…I'm less sure, but she had darkish reddish hair; bit dark for my mum's…but I think it was them."

He cast a hopeful glance up. Celia blinked and turned accusingly at Hermione. "You told me they were dead!" then at Harry: "Wait…then why're you living with the Dursleys?" She tapped her feet impatiently. "This is making no sense!"

"Harry…your parents are dead." Hermione said quietly, alarmed and pitiful. "it couldn't have…"

"Nothing, then. Forget I said anything." Harry said curtly, tired of the pitiful tones. Suddenly he was angry at himself. How could he have let himself believe that? Bitterly, he got up and sat down behind another tree.

"Harry?" Celia put a hand on his shoulder gently. "C'mon. Lupin's transforming. We need to get away."

She was right. Harry shook his head and got up. They quickly skidded into Hagrid's abandoned house. Just as a loud howl filled the air. Hermione, Celia, and Harry dashed to the window. They could see a faint outline of Past Celia giving up on her ropes and grabbing Ron's.

"You helped Ron first," Hermione stated, the sentence edged with curiosity.

Celia bit her lip. "I wouldn't let myself live it down if I had left him there and tended to myself first," she admitted.

Hermione cocked her head thoughtfully, the atmosphere around her tinged with admiration. "You're secretly a Hufflepuff," she said.

With a shake of her head, Celia smiled. "I'd take Slytherin any day. It's pretty cool, the dorms."

"What's in there, anyways?" Harry asked curiously. He'd, obviously, never been inside.

Celia grinned and her eyebrows rose. "Sorry; Slytherin secret." She said it like it was the most important thing in the world, which only made Hermione and Harry want to know even more.

Hermione, keen on knowing everything, pressed her palms together. "Is it something big?"

With a final grin that stretched across her face, Celia shrugged enthusiastically. "I don't know; I've never been there. I sleep in Dad's office, remember?" she held the act for a few more seconds, then fell over in peals of laughter at Harry's bewildered look and Hermione's extremely betrayed look. She glared at Celia as she realized she had been set up.

After a while of laughter (Celia), annoyance (Hermione), and complete confusion (Harry), Celia decided to go out, and apparently there was nothing Hermione could do about it.

The door shut with a snap, and Harry hesitated. "I want to go too." Then, at Hermione's suspicious look, added, "I won't interfere. Really."

HHHPPPOOO

"D'you think he'll come soon?" Celia whispered excitedly.

"I don't know…should be…" Harry murmured. They were crouched out of view in a few bushes, staring at the lake that was currently infested with dementors. They should be here by now, Harry thought.

Celia gave Harry's hand an excited squeeze. It was impossible not to feel slightly giddy; Celia's feelings were infectious.

"C'mon, Dad, Mum, where are you?" He whispered, and turned his head to look at Celia.

Nobody came. Celia's worried expression made Harry even more determined to show that it was his parents. He stared at Celia's blood-red-caked hair, and for a moment, he frowned.

Her hair was very messy, frizzy, and reddish-orangey leaves clung to her hair like burrs. With the addition of her blood, her hair could almost pass off as…red.

It hit him-he had seen himself and Celia-he pushed himself to his feet. The dementors were closing in, and Celia's mind was made as well.

They rushed to a clearing. Harry closed his eyes, confident now. And then, right there on the other side of the lake, a dementor leaned in, holding Past Celia like a rag doll.

"Expecto Patronum!" Not surprisingly, an adorable, wispy puppy blossomed from Celia's wand, bounding off at the retreating dementors. It let out a bark and rolled through a wave of dementors, tail wagging impatiently.

Harry's patronus followed. It was more graceful, with gentle hooves as it cantered softly around the bank, driving off remaining dementors. It was a stag.

"Prongs," Harry whispered, and as the stag looked at him quietly and dissipated, Harry felt a pang of brokenness envelop him. He dropped to his knees, thinking about how naïve he had been.

"Hey," someone sat down next to him, and he wasn't surprised to see Celia. It had been only one year, and neither of them said it, but they both felt that they had known each other for a long time.

Harry smiled softly as he remembered that time Ron had said those insults at her, and he'd sat down next to her.

"Are you okay?" the question was blunt, and could cover many topics. Was he okay with the fact Voldemort was after him? Was he okay that his parents were dead, and he was and orphan?

Harry thought about the question. "Overall, yeah." He admitted. It had been pretty great, thinking that Sirius would be able to take him in, if not immediately, then someday.

She stretched her hand into his, giving that needed squeeze again. How she managed to do things like that and still make it feel completely un-awkward, Harry didn't know. "Good." A smile tugged at her lips. "You thought you were your father."

Harry grinned. "That's a good thing, right?" With Celia, he could never tell. After all, her father hated him, who's to say he didn't hate Harry's dad as well?

Suddenly she leapt to her feet, grinning wildly. "You thought I was-I was-"

"Lily Evans," he admitted. "Yeah, I did." Then, feeling a little brave, he added, "though I don't know how. She was much prettier than you."

Celia helped him up, nudging his shoulder playfully. "Then let me return the favor by telling you that your father was probably less scrawny than you."

Harry started to say something back, the mood much lighter now, but Hermione ran charging at him, and the first thing he received was a hit in the head.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T INTERFERE!" She said angrily.

Harry and Celia looked at each other, Harry rubbing his head. Finally, Harry shrugged, and explained the whole thing.

Hermione looked amazed at the end, and opened her mouth to say something, when Celia's quiet, serious voice filled the air.

"Guys. We need to hurry and get Buckbeak to Sirius." She said, and pointed at across the lake. "Almost out of time."

Across the lake, Snape had magically conjured stretchers and levitated Harry, Ron, and Hermione onto them. Then he scooped Celia's limp form into his arms, ripping his gauze off onto the floor. With his other hand, he bound and gagged Sirius, then promptly walked briskly back to castle. He had a hand on Celia's stretcher, and even Harry could see that he cared more about her than anyone else there. And he definitely didn't care about Sirius; he was dragging him around like a dog.

"Alright," Celia said. "Enough staring. Get on, you guys." She pointed at Buckbeak, who had followed Hermione.

Harry got on instantly, but it took a bit of egging to get Hermione on. Finally, Harry held out a hand for Celia. Celia grabbed it and swung herself onto Buckbeak.

"Hold on, guys!"

They didn't need a second invitation. Harry's arms wrapped around Celia's waist, and he choked, "Hermione–too hard…" as Hermione mashed her face into Harry's back, squeezing the life out of Harry with her arms.

Hermione was muttering, "Oh no, I don't like this-I really don't like this…"

Celia kicked off, heels digging into Buckbeak's sides. Buckbeak launched off, spread his wings, and they were flying.

The sensation was amazing. Celia pressed her face into Buckbeak's neck and sighed contently as the three of them glided in the air. After a while, she pulled on the reins, and Buckbeak landed, rocky, on the roof of Flitwick's office.

Hermione looked sick. "I didn't like that…" she murmured, a hand on the roof wall to steady herself. Celia grimaced as Hermione lurched forward and threw up over the roof. Filch was going to have a nasty surprise.

Harry turned, and saw Sirius in a chair, slumped and defeated. "Sirius!" he hissed. Sirius looked up, his eyes wide, and hurried over to the window. He rattled it desperately, but it was locked.

"Stand back, Harry, Sirius!" Celia motioned for them to move. She pointed the wand at the window, took a deep breath, and:

"Alohamora."

The window sprung open, and Sirius clambered to the window, just managing to fit his stick-like figure through the window. Hermione emerged, looking less green and leading Buckbeak. The hippogriff swung its head importantly.

"Wha-how?" Sirius said weakly. He stared at Harry.

"We don't have time, just go!" Harry pulled Buckbeak towards Sirius. With great effort, Sirius swung his spindly body onto Buckbeak and turned back to Celia, Harry, and Hermione.

"How can I ever thank-"

All three of them; Celia, Hermione, and Harry, yelled, "GO!"

Sirius leaned back, a little startled, and grabbed the reins. "We'll meet again. You are truly your father's son, Ha-"

"Enough of the sentiments! There'll be time to cuddle soon, but if you don't leave NOW, you'll be dead! Go! Sheesh!" Celia cut in impatiently. She grabbed the reins from Sirius, gave it the sharpest snap she had ever given Buckbeak (who reared in protest), and shoved the reins back at Sirius.

As the hippogriff flew into the air, Sirius frowned. He was sure he knew that girl-what was her name, C-something, wasn't it? She must have been the daughter of someone, but he didn't know well. Frank and Alice Longbottom, maybe? Her frizzy black hair was too dark to make her a Weasley. He wondered if she was in Hufflepuff, or maybe Gryffindor. Maybe even Ravenclaw. Anything but Slytherin, though, he was sure Harry wouldn't be friends with people who hated muggleborns and believed in all that junk. With a shake of his head, he tightened his grip on the reins and flew.

Now a few miles away, a certain Slytherin and two Gryffindors were making their way back to the Infirmary.

Celia's POV

Officially the best day ever.

I didn't bother keeping my excitement down. With a hushed whisper, I talked the entire trip to the Infirmary.

"-and did you feel that awesomeness when we rode Buckbeak?"

"No. I was too busy trying not to be sick!"

"And then we landed on the roof! I've always wanted to see what was on Flitwick's roof! I've been on Mcgonagall's-"

"You've been on her office roof? Why?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Doing some stuff with Fred and George. No worries." I didn't tell her I had been on Dumbledore's roof, too, and the Astronomy Tower roof, which was narrowly slanted-plus, I'd probably be grounded for life from Dad if he ever found out I was helping Fred and George throw water balloons at random people.

We climbed another staircase, and Harry remarked, "I think that's something to be worried about. Mcgonagall isn't someone to cross."

I shrugged. "Well, she has no proof, so-oh! Hey, Headmaster!" I waved. Dumbledore was at the door of the Infirmary. We realized he was about to lock it.

"Wait! Don't!" Harry called, panicked, and we ran to Dumbledore's turned back. He turned.

Dumbledore did that twinkling thing with his eyes again. "Well?" he asked quietly. I gave an eager nod.

"We saved Buckbeak and got Sirius out! And we landed on the roof!" I couldn't help adding the last part. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Dumbledore let out a hearty but quiet chuckle. "Alright, well done, you three. I think-" he frowned and listened-"yes, you've left too, now go in, I'll lock you in…"

Harry and Hermione went in, but I stayed back and pointed to my head. "Um…Headmaster, I was wondering if you could put a bandage on this? Mine fell off…" I trailed off, brushing off a golden leaf. Dumbledore smiled gently and flicked his wand-where did it even come from?-and my head was clean of leaves. Another flick and a newly applied bandage was wrapped around it.

I nodded thankfully and slipped inside, to the custody of my bed. It was so soft I felt like I could just sink into it…

Hey, Tom? By that time I was so tired my eyes were drooping. I saw Pomfrey come over with a clunk of chocolate, but she took one look at me and left me alone.

Now you talk. What do you want?

Who's side, exactly, are you….on?

That question, I could tell, wasn't what he was expecting. Despite his occlumency, I felt a surge of shock and my eyes shot open. Pomfrey instantly swooped over and dropped a chocolate in my hand. Under her hard gaze I sheepishly gave it a few half-hearted nibbles.

Tom eyed me warily. Why does that concern you? I chewed on the chocolate as it melted into a glop on my tongue. Why did it concern me?

My mind drew a blank, and the answer hit me like a bullet. I drew in a breath.

The Voldemort I know is clever and cold and merciless and hates muggleborns. You are completely different. I've heard you say "mudblood" and all that junk, but then you stop yourself and say "Granger". And I'm just saying, why're you helping me if I'm not on Voldemort's side? If it's a trick, then I don't see how you're benefitting.

It was really true. He wouldn't let me tell him anything about me; and every time I hung out with someone, he'd disappear like he didn't want to know what was going on.

And…why would you pick me? Me, of all people. There was absolutely nothing special about me. I didn't have Harry's quidditch interests, Ron's chess-awesomeness I recently learned about, or Hermione's brains.

Tom?

He wouldn't reply. I felt his occlumency shield pull up just a little harder. And when I took a peek, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. All I saw were downcast eyes and dark hair. Then, finally: You don't need to know any of that. Just don't trust me.

I leaned back in my pillows in frustration, my throat thick with sweet chocolate. Pomfrey handed me another one, and I bit it obediently, when suddenly there was a distant roar of fury. I jolted and my chocolate crashed to the floor.

"What in the world-" Pomfrey started, and the door flew open. Dad, Fudge, and a very cheery Dumbledore came in.

Let the show begin.