Kindred Spirits
by Tailkinker
This is a work of fan fiction based on the Harry Potter series and the Sailor Moon franchise created respectively by J.K. Rowling and Naoko Takeuchi. The characters and settings belong to their respective owners and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and should not be considered as part of the official canon of either series.
Rewind
Harry awoke in the Hospital Wing.
At this rate, Madam Pomfrey's just going to put my name on this bed, he mused. He sat up, fumbling for his glasses, and heard Hermione gasp his name. Once he had them on his face, he looked around the room.
Ron and Hermione were sitting to either side of his bed. Ron was asleep in his chair, but Hermione was fidgeting nervously, staring at her hands.
"I shouldn't have left you," she muttered.
"I told you to," he said. "Where's Hotaru?"
"I'm here," she said. He turned, looking past Ron to see her sitting up in another bed. She looked paler than usual, but at least she was awake.
"They're not yet recovered, Dumbledore, I'll not let you disturb them."
Harry turned at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice. The door to the Hospital Wing opened, and Professor Dumbledore walked in. Madam Pomfrey was hot on his heels, and still berating him. The noise of their arrival startled Ron into wakefulness.
Pomfrey was quite upset. "Dementor exposure is not to be ignored, and Potter was surrounded by them. I don't know who cast that Patronus, but it's a lucky thing they did."
"Harry," said Dumbledore. "I'm afraid that Sirius Black was captured. I understand that you have significant evidence proving his innocence?"
"Yes, Sir," said Harry excitedly. "We caught Peter Pettigrew—"
"I am afraid that Mr Pettigrew escaped when you and Sirius were overcome by the Dementors," said Dumbledore. His expression seemed apologetic. "What other evidence do you have?"
"Er...court records, Sir," said Harry. "Or rather, the lack of them. Sirius never received a trial."
"That might stall them, but I don't think it will stop them entirely," mused Dumbledore. "Minister Fudge intends to bring the Dementors into the school in order to perform the Dementor's Kiss on Sirius Black."
Hermione gasped in horror, but Harry didn't recognize the term. "Dementor's Kiss, Sir?"
Dumbledore's expression and voice were flat. Harry recognized that he was using Occlumency to control his emotions. "The Dementors can draw out a person's soul and consume it. It is considered our worst punishment."
Hotaru's expression became one of revulsion.
"Even death would be better," said Hermione darkly.
"We have to stop this." Hotaru's voice was trembling in rage. "Even if he were guilty as sin, nobody warrants such a thing."
"As it happens, Ms Granger has the means to do just that." Dumbledore looked at Hermione, and raised a hand, pantomiming twisting something. "Three turns, Ms Granger, should be sufficient, and I can assure you that this room was empty at that time. You, Harry and Ms Tomoe should be about that. If you time things right, you might save two innocent lives tonight."
"What about me?" asked Ron.
"I have another task for you, Mr Weasley. Come with me. Poppy, I'll need your assistance as well."
Ron looked at Harry, and shrugged. He got to his feet and followed Dumbledore and Pomfrey out the door. As soon as it closed behind them, Hermione pulled a pendant, hung on a long golden chain, from under her sweater.
"Harry, Hotaru. Grab some chocolate, and come over here."
Hotaru didn't hesitate. She jumped off the bed, stuffed her feet into her loafers and quickly moved to stand beside Hermione. Harry did the same, though it took him a minute to get his trainers laced.
"This is how I was getting to all my classes this year," said Hermione. She held up the pendant that hung on the fine golden chain. "It's a time turner."
"I'm guessing it lets you rewind time?" asked Harry.
"Exactly," said Hermione. She looked at the chain, then the two of them, and said, "The chain has to go around all three of us. Squeeze in."
The three of them stepped in, and Harry wrapped his arms around both girls to pull them in tight. Hermione wrapped the chain around them, then turned the tiny hourglass in the pendant three times.
And suddenly, it was daylight again.
Hermione pulled the chain off of them, and tucked the pendant back into her sweater. "All right. We've got two hours before Harry is attacked by the Dementors. But there's rules you need to know. Nobody can see us, who saw us in the last three hours."
"That's only Hagrid and Sirius," said Harry.
"It's also us," said Hermione. "We mustn't be seen by our past selves, nor by Ron or Pettigrew. Also, we can't change anything."
"What will happen if we try?" asked Hotaru.
"Nothing will happen," said Hermione. "It's a closed loop. Any action we take now, will have already been taken by us, and is already part of the past."
"Then what's the sense of this?" asked Harry in frustration.
"I don't know," admitted Hermione. "But Professor Dumbledore believes it will help. Maybe we can capture Pettigrew after he escapes."
"But if we can't change anything—"
"We don't know what happened to Pettigrew after you passed out," pointed out Hermione. "So maybe we can change that. After all, I asked questions while in classes when I was rewound, and the Professors answered them."
"It may be that the only events we cannot change are those we witnessed." Hotaru checked her watch. "We went back three hours, right?" She adjusted her watch, no doubt removing the three hours. "So right 'now', 'we' are at Hagrid's, and Ron has just been handed the rat." She looked up at Harry, and he was shocked to see cold rage in her eyes. "I will not let this thing happen to Black."
"Then let's go to Hagrid's now," said Harry firmly.
It was distinctly odd, watching the four of them walking away from Hagrid's. They'd crouched behind the hut, making sure that they were out of view of...themselves.
"Does my hair really look that stupid from the back?" whispered Hermione.
"Sirius must have been hiding in the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack," observed Harry. "We can't do anything until he and I pass out by the edge of the lake."
"Who's that?" asked Hotaru. She pointed towards the edge of the forest. Harry followed her finger, to see two people walking along the path at the edge of the forest.
"The one in the green hat is the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge," he said. "I don't know who the other chap is, but given that he's wearing an executioner's hood, and carrying an axe, I think I know why they're here."
"This is what Dumbledore meant," said Hermione excitedly. "We can save Buckbeak, as well!"
"Let's go untie him." Harry jumped to his feet, but both girls grabbed his arms and pulled him back down.
"Not yet, Harry," said Hermione.
"The Ministry people have to see him out front first," said Hotaru. "If he just vanishes, they'll assume that Hagrid set him free."
Harry sighed. "You're right. Good thing I've got you girls to do the thinking for me."
They watched as the Minister and the executioner walked to the front door of the house, out of their view. However, they could hear voices from within the hut.
"Bad business, Hagrid," Harry heard the Minister say. "And I must wonder why it always seems to be you—"
Hermione tapped Harry's arm. He jumped to his feet, and quickly went around the hut.
Buckbeak raised his head from his forelocks as Harry approached. Harry paused, and bowed deeply. The Hippogriff returned the bow, and Harry quickly moved to untie him. He led the Hippogriff around the back of the hut.
"Now what?"
"You've got to fly him away, Harry," said Hermione. "Take Hotaru with you; Buckbeak can't carry three, and I'm the largest of us."
"What will you—"
"Go, Harry. I'll catch up."
He hated leaving her again, but he quickly mounted Buckbeak. Hermione helped Hotaru on behind him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"All right, Buckbeak. Let's go."
The Hippogriff snorted, took three steps forward, and launched himself into the air.
They had crossed the lake, and circled around to the boathouse. Already, Harry could feel the drop in temperature that heralded the arrival of the Dementors. But there was not yet any sign of them in the gloaming sky.
He dismounted, then helped Hotaru down from Buckbeak's back. She shivered in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I just don't like flying," she mumbled into his chest.
Harry patted her back. "Not everybody has to."
She stepped back. "So now we wait?"
"Not for long," said Harry. He moved to the window, and carefully looked out. "Here we come."
He could see their past selves and Sirius approaching, could see the glow of his Patronus keeping the Dementors at bay. But he knew that more were coming.
"How are we going to capture Pettigrew?" he suddenly wondered. "We have to be here, so we're not seen, but how do we get over there once we pass out? How do we find a rat in the darkness?"
"I have a plan for that," said Hotaru. "You mentioned a very devoted House Elf."
"Of course!" exclaimed Harry. "But he's not here now—"
"You've called him before," pointed out Hotaru.
"The Patronus," Harry said. "It came from the boathouse. We can't be seen—"
Hotaru glanced around the boathouse—a single room, with only two doors, one leading to the castle. "There's no-one else here. It's just us. One of us must have cast it."
"But I can't cast a corporeal Patronus," said Harry. He drew his wand, and stared at it. "And it wasn't your dove."
"It must have been you," said Hotaru.
Harry turned and looked out the window again. He could see Sirius fall, see himself dropping to his knees.
He saw Hotaru falling from his grasp, unable to protect herself, and saw the Dementors swarming in.
"The past can't be changed," whispered Hotaru. Her hand touched his shoulder, a comforting presence. "I'm here, and you're here. You must have saved us. It must have been your Patronus."
He looked down at his wand.
If she was right...then he'd cast a full Patronus. He'd saved Sirius and himself.
He'd saved Hotaru.
The thought buoyed him up, bringing a wellspring of emotion. His determination to protect his friend burned brightly in his mind.
He glanced back at the girl, and felt a sudden surge of gratitude and affection. She'd become more than a friend; she'd become a steadfast companion, enduring pain and discomfort on his behalf. Now it was his chance to help her, and he felt an unshakeable resolve, knowing that he would succeed because he already had—
His wand came up, described the half-twist and jab.
"Expecto Patronum!"
And the silvery stag burst from his wand, charging through the oncoming Dementors, scattering them far and wide.