DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, who isn't me. The only profit I get from this is personal satisfaction.
Some Loose Ends
Bill couldn't sleep. He was staying the night at the Burrow before heading back to Egypt and he couldn't get his mind off the fact that he could access George's wand and get a second opinion from Ollivander. He was terrified of what the wandmaker might say about it, though. Ollivander might confirm Bill's fears about how much influence the Saintlike One had over his family. More terrifying would be having to truly consider the Saintlike One family. Bill had managed to distract himself for the most part since the Saint gave him the wand, but the thoughts ate away at him now.
Just as the sun rose, he took George's wand from where Mum had hidden it for the holidays and the Saintlike One's wand. He had to get this over with before he went insane. Looking at them side by side, there was more credibility to the Saintlike One's claims. But Bill knew that Ollivander, at least, could not be fooled. There was a chance that Ollivander might be coerced, but Bill tried to not think about that. He took a deep breath and took the Floo to Diagon Alley and went straight for the wand shop.
The old wizard seemed to be cataloging his supply when Bill walked in.
"Mr. Ollivander, I came by a wand a few months ago and was wondering if you could identify it," Bill explained as he took out the Saintlike One's wand. "I would have come by earlier, but I only got the opportunity to come back to England because—"
"What by Merlin's English oak have you done to your poor brother's wand!" Ollivander cried when he saw the stick in Bill's hand.
"This isn't my brother's wand," Bill insisted. "It just looks like his."
"I would stake my reputation on it: that wand is the wand of George Weasley. But it appears as if it has undergone thirty years of use, not two!"
"You mean it should look like this one?" Bill asked as he took out George's wand.
"That's not possible," Ollivander breathed as he took both wands and began listening to each of them. "They are definitely the same, but I have no idea how both can exist here and now. Wands, like humans, do not make good duplications."
"I've been led to believe time travel was involved."
"Ah," Ollivander smiled, "then it may be possible. I admit I am not very familiar with that particular branch of magic, but that seems the most logical explanation."
"Can you think of any other way to explain this?"
"I cannot. Many a wizard has attempted to duplicate his wand so that he might be capable of dueling with two wands. My great-great grandfather found a wand to be as unique as a human soul and declared such attempts impossible. Apparently your future brother has found a loophole."
"Is it possible that someone else traveled back in time with George's wand in their possession?"
Ollivander put the Saintlike One's wand to his ear again. "The wand still claims George Weasley as his owner. Prior Incantato."
A white light emerged from the wand.
"A Patronus Charm?" Ollivander asked. "Yes, definitely cast by its true owner some...six or seven months ago, I should think?"
"So my brother really did go back in time," Bill said.
"I would check with an expert in time travel before making that conclusion, but I believe so, yes. I will assume that he did so for good reason and so I will not speak of it to anyone."
"Thank you, Ollivander."
"No, thank you, Mr. Weasley," Ollivander said. "I had thought I had seen all there was to see in my field. I am glad to be proven wrong in that regard."
Bill went to the Ministry in the search of Broderick Bode, a friend of Dad's who worked in the Department of Mysteries. He'd always associated an aura of serene mysticism with the Department. Instead, something had made everyone frantic.
"Do you know where Mr. Bode is?" Bill asked a nearby witch. "I need to speak with him."
"Unless it has something to do with the Time-Turner Collapse, we don't care," the witch replied.
"Time-Turner Collapse?" Bill asked.
"Yes," the witch huffed. "This morning we got the news that Time-Turners have suddenly stopped working. All of them. They're nothing but hourglasses filled with dead sand in them now."
"I might have a lead..." Bill said.
"You aren't just saying that to get in, are you?" the witch asked.
"No, I was definitely planning on talking to Mr. Bode about anomalous time travel before I came in," Bill said.
The witch stared at him a moment, then scowled. "Fine. Down the hall, take a right and look for his name on the door."
Bill complied with the directions and found a very stressed out Broderick Bode behind a desk filled with clutter. Bill was momentarily distracted by some devices on some shelves that reminded him of Dumbledore's office before he reminded himself of why he'd come.
"Mr. Bode? I'm Bill Weasley."
"Hmm?" Bode said as he looked up. "Oh, yes, Arthur's son. I apologize for the mess. It doesn't usually get this bad..."
"I heard about the Time-Turner Collapse," Bill said. "I think I found something of interest to you." Bill pulled out the Saintlike One's wand.
"What is your point?" Bode asked. "I'm afraid I don't have time to draw my own conclusions right now."
"Ollivander confirmed this wand to be exactly identical to one he sold two years ago, only about thirty years older."
"Where did you find this?" Bode breathed as he took out a magnifying glass and began examining the wand with his own.
"It was given to me back in January," Bill explained.
"January?" Bode asked. "No, that can't be right..."
Bill shrugged. "I've been led to believe that the wand arrived in this timeline in September 1989."
"September '89?" Bode repeated as he began searching through a pile of parchments. He paused at one page and mumbled to himself. "Fluctuations a little higher than normal, but not high enough to concern us. Assumed to be a malfunction or a student testing their Time-Turner... Yes! This could be exactly what we are looking for! But why did it take so long for time travel itself to become nonfunctional, I wonder..."
"I'll have to get back to you on that," Bill said.
Bode narrowed his eyes at Bill. "You know who the rogue time traveler is."
"Yes, I do."
"And you aren't going to tell me who it is."
"Only if I later find out that he went dark in his previous timeline," Bill replied. "Circumstances seem to indicate otherwise, but I'll arrange for you to be contacted should something happen to me."
Bode grimaced. "You have no idea how tempting it is to kidnap you just to know the truth. You do realize that this is the most baffling mystery to come to the attention of the Department of Mysteries in hundreds of years, don't you? And that includes the mystery of what destroyed He Who Must Not Be Named."
"You can always try Dumbledore for answers," Bill suggested. "And even if he declines to comment, I'm sure that as soon as the time traveler has finished what he came here to do that he'll explain himself to the Department of Mysteries' content."
"Unless he somehow got himself destroyed by the Collapse," Bode noted.
The Saintlike One might be dead? Bill wondered. He shook his head. "I won't believe that until I find proof otherwise."
"May I at least keep this wand and run some tests on it?" Bode asked.
Bill shrugged. "The time traveler has managed without it for this long. If he tries to get it back from me, I'll direct him to you."
Alastor Moody was generally considered a gruff sort of man. What most people didn't know was that he would sometimes come to St. Mungo's to visit former Aurors who had become incapacitated.
He still was upset with himself for not being there to help when the Longbottoms were tortured into insanity. Alastor's one consolation about the whole thing was that he'd managed to capture Crouch's evil boy himself, but even that was undercut by the fact that the foul wizard had managed to escape his torture in Azkaban by dying earlier than he should have.
He walked down the hallway and almost didn't notice it, but Alastor's motto wasn't "Constant Vigilance!" for nothing: behind a closed closet door was a man sprawled out unmoving on the floor. The Auror opened the door and got a better look at the man.
"Well I'll be a Niffler's uncle," he chuckled. "James Oliver." What a wanted man was doing unconscious at St. Mungo's was anyone's guess, but Alastor sincerely hoped that Oliver hadn't been hiding in the hospital the whole time. That would be a shame that the Aurors would never live down.
Alastor took the unconscious wizard to an interrogation room, chained him to a table, and gave him a potion that was the Auror's own special secret. It wasn't Veritaserum, but it would do the job required. Even an Occlumens had a hard time fighting it because, while it only made the drinker mildly inclined to speak truthfully, they would be speaking faster than normal, usually fast enough to not realize what they were saying.
The Auror put the potion back in his pocket and left a bottle of Veritaserum out on the table, just out of Oliver's reach. The threat of being forced to be truthful was usually enough to get them to start talking and the potion already in their system would do the rest.
He pointed his wand at Oliver and said, "Rennervate."
Oliver awoke instantly. "Mad-Eye? What am I doing here? The last thing I remember is getting rid of Remus, then I guess I passed out? If that happened to Lysander, I hope he was okay when he was flying... Or will be. Never mind. Do you know who I am?"
"I'll be asking the questions here," Alastor said. Whatever Oliver was babbling about was probably nonsense, but he did find it interesting that the wanted man knew Alastor Moody by sight and by nickname. "Why don't you tell me who you are?"
"So you haven't been talking to Dumbledore about me," Oliver said. "That will make things much more difficult. I didn't exactly have a plan for being captured, so I'm doing a make it up as you go along plan."
The potion seemed to be working even better than usual. This man obviously had very weak filtering abilities or, more likely, still exhausted by whatever had knocked him unconscious in the first place. Of course, the prisoner might just be lying his head off, but Alastor usually got something useful out of any interrogation even when that was the case.
"Answer my question: who are you?"
"I've been calling myself James Oliver since 1989. I wasn't really around before that—at least not in any way you'd recognize as being me. What I was before I was James Oliver doesn't really matter since it isn't going to happen anyway. Is that Veritaserum on the table? The last time I had that I ended up in St. Mungo's."
"I don't have authorization to give it to you yet," Alastor said with a regretful tone, "but as soon as I do, you'll be requestioned. I'd recommend being truthful now instead of later."
Oliver shook his head. "No, Mad-Eye, you're trickier than that. Did someone read my mind while I was unconscious? No, otherwise we'd be talking all about the Saintlike One instead of Oliver."
Alastor pointed his wand at Oliver's face. "What do you know about the Saintlike One?"
"Oh, did Dumbledore have you looking for me too?" Oliver asked nonchalantly. "Didn't he tell you to not worry anymore?"
The old Auror almost didn't believe it. "You're the Saintlike One?"
"Wha... I guess I said that, didn't I?" Oliver asked. "I've been telling you all sorts of things too, haven't I? Okay, you need to talk to Dumbledore. It'll be much easier for me to help with the Voldemort problem outside a cell than inside one. I know! I'll do what Karkaroff did and tell you who to arrest! First, out of moral obligation, I plead with you to lock up Umbridge before she starts hurting children. I have no idea what charge would work for her right now, but she deserves to be trampled by centaurs. And second, and probably more useful for you: Barty Crouch Jr. is still alive and outside of Azkaban. His mum died in his place and his dad has him on house arrest under an invisibility cloak."
And they say I'm mad... "Anyone else?" he asked dryly.
"Well, there's the Death Eaters everyone knows about that weaseled out of it. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Macnair, the usual. Don't remember if the Carrows or Yaxley were ever arrested, but they've all served Voldemort. And of course Pettigrew should have been found by now, thanks to yours truly."
"So you confess to breaking out Black and sending him after the rat?" Alastor asked.
"Yep, that was me," Oliver said brightly. "I haven't been reading the papers, but they're probably pretty close to the truth. Where was I? Oh, more people to watch out for! Bagman is willing to bet against children. Thicknese should never get too much power since he's susceptible to the Imperius."
"Aren't most people?"
"Well I can't speak for Fudge, but Scrimingour was able to defy..." Oliver trailed off. "If I keep talking, you aren't going to understand any of it. Go talk to Dumbledore, then things will make sense. Tell him I don't drink pumpkin juice. He'll understand I sent you and am authorizing him to tell all."
"Why not tell me everything now?" Alastor said as he nudged the Veritaserum towards Oliver.
Oliver looked around. "I'm not convinced that this is a secure location. I've already made a mess of things, but the crucial part is still safe. Go before I start hexing you."
"I took the liberty of relieving you of your wand," Alastor noted.
"That's not my wand. My wand is currently in the hands of someone I trust to stop being an idiot and give it back to me someday. Now goodbye, Professor."
Yes, this one was definitely mad as a fwooper, but Alastor figured that he might as well talk to Albus. At the very least, it'd be an interesting story to tell the old Headmaster. Maybe in a few days.
Although Dumbledore visited the Hog's Head regularly, it was really only for Aberforth that he did so. He greatly preferred the Three Broomsticks, and it was usually there that he could be found when not at Hogwarts or the Ministry or some other place that required Dumbledore's authority. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was apparently aware of that fact, as he entered the place and sat down right next to Albus.
"You would not believe who I managed to catch the other day," Alastor said.
"Mr. Crouch's son?" Dumbledore asked innocently.
Alastor scowled. "You know as well as I do that he's long dead."
"Is he?" Dumbledore asked as he sipped his mulled mead. "I must have forgotten."
"Well you and our favorite vigilante are the only ones saying otherwise," Alastor laughed.
Dumbledore frowned. "Where did you find Mr. Oliver? I heard that he was in the country, but...ah. St. Mungo's."
"Do you know how exasperating it is when you jump to conclusions with hardly any information at all and still be exactly right?" Alastor asked. "Albus, I know there is something you haven't been telling me."
"I would like to not infringe on the trust of an ally," Dumbledore said.
"If you're talking about Oliver—who also calls himself the Saintlike One if you weren't aware of that fact—"
Dumbledore smiled and took another drink. "I am quite aware of the various secrets of our one-eared friend."
"Of course you are," Alastor grunted. "He said you should tell me what I don't know. Said you'd understand a comment about him not drinking pumpkin juice."
Saint George, I believed that you were trying to keep your identity secret to as few people as possible. But, if you are sure, I will allow another into our circle.
"Please come to my office at your earliest convenience," Dumbledore said. "Even though we are not precisely at the Hog's Head, I am wary of who here might overhear something they should not. You will have a hard time believing what I have to say, but know that it is complete truth."
Just then, a small owl flew into the pub and to the two wizards' table. A letter was addressed to Dumbledore, from one Mr. Broderick Bode. The Headmaster read it and tucked it away.
"I think, given the circumstances, that we might invite another wizard to our revelatory meeting. I am sure Mr. Oliver would not object to also fully informing one whom his brother gave incomplete information to."
"James Oliver has a brother?" Alastor asked.
"Even while under Aberforth's employ, he claimed as much," Dumbledore pointed out.
"Great, now we have two of them running around."
Dumbledore didn't respond. He just sipped his mead and considered what modifications to his plans would be necessary, if any.
Several days after George was brought to the Ministry temporary holding cells, Mad-Eye finally came back for him.
"Your tip about Crouch was good," the Auror said.
"Does that mean the charges against me are dropped?" George asked.
"They haven't decided anything official yet, but since you gave us two Death Eaters we believed to be dead, I think they will be inclined towards leniency," Mad-Eye said. "If freed, your wand will be returned to you, along with the one I found you with."
"Where did you find my wand? Dumbledore?"
Mad-Eye barked a laugh. "The old Headmaster hasn't touched it. Someone's brother gave it to one Broderick Bode when he was concerned about a little thing called the Time-Turner Collapse. Know anything about it?"
"I haven't heard any rumors," George shrugged. Technically that was true. He only had hypothetical knowledge transferred directly to his mind about what would happen to his universe once he sent Remus back. "Did you talk to Dumbledore at all since you last visited?"
"As it so happens, Albus, Bode, and I were having a nice long chat when I acquired your wand. Albus had a fascinating story for us both."
So he knows. "Did you believe him?" George asked.
"Do I think a man lost his ear the same night a man was split into seven and the man who Mundungus abandoned died?" Mad-Eye asked. "Yes, I do. And so does Bode."
"Thank you."
"Tell that to Bode. He has a lot of questions for you and I think he wants a copy of your Memory Book."
"Er..." George scratched the back of his head.
"It's not like anything in that book will be able to be used anytime soon," Mad-Eye pointed out. "You certainly saw to that."
"It's just that..." George trailed off. "I guess I don't have a good excuse. Lysander would want me to make sure that the information wasn't completely lost, in case it is needed again. He'd just better make sure that it stays safe when the temporal energies renew themselves enough to repeat the experiment."
"The Department of Mysteries tends to be able to keep a secret," Mad-Eye said. "It'll be fine. As soon as we get the Ministry people on board, you can go do whatever it is that will let you save the world."
A Handy List of People Who Know that Old George Traveled through Time
1. Lysander Scamander (in different timeline)
2. (Old) George Weasley
3. Lee Jordan
4. Fred Weasley
5. (Young) George Weasley
6. Sirius Black
7. Nymphadora Tonks
8. Charlie Weasley
9. Albus Dumbledore
10. Severus Snape
11. Remus Lupin (in different timeline)
12. Bill Weasley
13. Garrick Ollivander
14. Alastor Moody
15. Broderick Bode
Author's Note:
I've written the end of this story, but I'm still cleaning up things here and there to make sure all as it should be before I post the last two or three (maybe four) chapters for all the world to see. I'd also like to make it clear that I currently have no plans to continue the story of Remus' jump through time—I just wanted to have that subplot wrapped up before the avalanche that you're going to get soon. Don't say I didn't warn you.
All my love,
pisoprano