This is still a chapter that was completed in November. I've been staggering their release a bit so they don't all get posted at once. Also gave me a chance to go back over it and proofread a little – a luxury I rarely allow myself, lol.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
October proved to be very busy. On top of everything else he had to do, Harry now had quidditch practice three times a week. All things considered, this was a good problem to have, since he enjoyed quidditch and he got to spend time with Ginny, but it did leave him too exhausted on those nights to do much of anything else.
Those other things not only included trying to map out hypothetical futures, which was something he never thought he'd have to do, but also Arithmancy and Ancient Runes homework, for which he actually had to put forth a lot of effort and brainpower. They were up to five now in Arithmancy, and now that they'd learned the entire arcane futhark (what a runic alphabet was called), they were starting work on rudimentary translations, which proved far more challenging than he'd initially thought they would be.
There was another unexpected pull on his time: Care For Magical Creatures was an actual class now that they weren't just overfeeding flobberworms, and while Hagrid wasn't the sort to assign an exceptional amount of homework, it did all start to add up after a while.
Then there was McClaggen. He was every bit as bad as Harry remembered him from that brief stint he'd had with the team during Harry's own tenure as captain in the future. He would make suggestions to everyone who would listen (as well as everyone who wouldn't), would yell and berate whomever happened to be near for their incompetence any time he made a mistake, and wouldn't take direction or instruction from Wood at all. He seemed to think that if Oliver simply listened to his suggestions, everything would be going swimmingly.
'Is it too late to sack him and bring Ron on?' Fred asked one afternoon after a particularly trying practice session in which McClaggen had suggested to he and George that they might want to think about putting some time into learning how to work as a unit a little bit better.
'Don't think I haven't considered it,' said Wood, packing the balls away. 'But it's too late, now. I want to wait until at least after our first match before doing anything like that.'
'It's not like either of them are going to be playing in it,' said George.
'Probably not,' agreed Wood. 'But we can't take anything for granted. Not this year.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' Fred said. 'We've won the Cup two years running, you know, and we're the favorites to win it again.'
'He means its because it's his last year,' said Angelina, who was passing. 'He doesn't want to lose the Cup in his last year.'
Wood scowled but did not contradict her.
In addition to everything else, Harry was working with Lupin once a week to "learn" the Patronus Charm. He was allowing himself to conjure a mist four times out of five now, and Lupin was under the impression that he was exceptionally talented.
Crookshanks made yet another move on Scabbers – Wormtail – around the middle of the month, which set Ron and Hermione to fighting. They were going to have to do something about that, too. Of course it would be all right once Scabbers's true identity was inevitably revealed, but Harry and Ginny were of the opinion that if they could find a way to engineer things so that Ron and Hermione didn't spend half the year hating each other, they should do it.
Harry was trying to think of ways to talk Ron round the following day when they encountered a minor commotion outside the Transfiguration classroom. Lavender appeard utterly distraught.
Harry, his mind immediately back in war mode, started imagining the worst as he, Ron, and Hermione hurried over to find out what was wrong. He received the relief of his life to discover that it was only Lavender's rabbit that had died, then felt guilty for feeling relieved about that. So distracted was he that when this somehow inflamed the simmering feud between Ron and Hermione even further, he didn't even notice how it had happened.
Honestly, sometimes the two of them… he grumbled in his mind. Were they the Ron and Hermione of his own time, he'd bluntly suggest they shag it out, but that obviously was not a viable solution at present.
It was during that day's lessson that McGonagall announced the upcoming Hogsmeade visit and reiterated the importance of their permission forms. Harry had to pretend to be upset. He also went through the motions of asking McGonagall's permission at the end of the lesson in order to appease Ron, knowing that she would say no. He was getting more than a little tired of doing things he knew were pointless just to keep up appearances, but he'd kept at it too long to just throw it all away now.
There's a light at the end of the tunnel, he kept telling himself. None of these charades would he have to maintain forever. Fred and George would give him the map, he'd "learn" the patronus, Sirius's name would be cleared, Voldemort would be defeated, it would all be over eventually. Some of it may take longer than other parts, but even if he and Ginny were never able to return to their own time (for while he hadn't given up on that hope yet, he knew he'd never go without her), eventually he wouldn't have to worry about these sorts of things anymore.
Eventually.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Once they felt like they'd gotten the hang of Hermione's rhythm – Harry had grown rather adept at identifying when she was trying to sneak off for an extra hour here and there to do homework – they determined there was only one available opportunity to perform their first important experiment. Unfortunately for Harry, it was at a very inopportune time.
'It couldn't be in literally any other class,' he complained. 'Even Runes takes less concentration.'
'Are you actually worried about how this will affect your performance in lessons?' Ginny asked, teasing him.
'It's just mighty inconvenient, that's all,' he said. 'And I know, I know, you've suffered a lot more than I have; it's only fair. But couldn't she have even one other time slot she repeats on a regular basis?'
The only classes of Hermione's that actually overlapped were Divination, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy. Which meant that she could be relied upon to use her Time Turner a minimum of four times a week, and always at the same time: ten o'clock, to go back and repeat the hour starting from nine o'clock. And then ten o'clock again to do the same thing. If they wanted to test what would happen if Ginny were near her when she used it, and they did, it had to be at this time. Which meant that if their hypothesis were correct, Harry was going to have to sabotage his own brain during his most difficult subject.
He tried to game it to his advantage as best he could. They planned it for the second lesson of the week, so he could hopefully work ahead as much as possible in the first. Other than that, there really wasn't much else he could do.
The fated morning came, and Ginny left breakfast with Harry's invisibility cloak hidden in her robes. He felt vulnerable without it. It was almost as bad as not having his wand. He set off for Arithmancy shortly after Ron and Hermione left for Diviniation, knowing he wouldn't feel any effects just yet, and wanting to be as close to the classroom as possible if and when those effects did hit him. He remembered what Ginny had looked like making her way down that corridor and it did not look fun.
Professor Vector's classroom was in sight when it came upon him. The whole castle seemed to...wobble, somehow, only it wasn't a quick thing that he recovered from after a few seconds. It just kept on going. His stomach roiled and his head was suddenly very cloudy, like that feeling right upon waking up in the morning after not getting enough sleep. There was a tingle down his middle, from the top of his head to his groin, as if someone had torn him in half and then roughly stuck him back together, and now his left side wanted to go one way while the right side wanted to go the other.
He'd never in his life suffered an illness that felt anywhere near this incapaciting. Ginny had massively undersold the discomfort of it.
Squinting to fight off the vertigo, he managed to get to a wall to help him along the rest of the corridor to his classroom. Their plan had been for him to ask to leave for the hospital wing partway through the lesson, not only to excuse his poor performace, but also to ensure he wasn't present when Hermione used her Time Turner again. Had he been able to think clearly, he would have realized that his current symptoms must have meant that part of the plan had worked. Assuming their working hypothesis was correct, at least.
'Are you all right, Harry?' Hermione asked when he finally managed to stumble into the classroom. Of course she would have gotten there first.
'Fine,' he said out of habit. 'Just a little dizzy.'
He sat down next to her and took out his book, all the while wishing he could just put his head down on the desk and take a nap. This feeling of being pulled two different ways was mentally exhausting. Like walking around crosseyed, but with each eye pointed out instead of in, and each foot trying to follow where its corresponding eye was pointing. It took most of his concentration just to focus on where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.
Naturally, the Arithmancy lesson was a wash. He could tell he wasn't going to get anything out of it less than two minutes in. He couldn't follow anything of what Professor Vector was saying, and the numbers she was writing on the blackboard, as well as the ones in his textbook, might as well have bene dancing around in front of his face for all he could make any sense of them.
Hermione wasn't the only one to notice.
'Potter, are you feeling all right?' Professor Vector asked briskly after the third time in a minute Harry had shaken his head in a futile attempt to clear it.
'Not really, Professor,' he said honestly. 'Not sure what the problem is.' Okay, that wasn't technically a lie. 'My head hurts and I can't focus.'
'Do you need to visit the hospital wing?' Vector asked.
'I think maybe I should,' Harry said, though for reasons of his own, of course.
'Go along, then. There's no sense in you staying here if you can't concentrate. You can ask Miss Granger for the lesson notes and homework later.'
'Thanks, Professor,' he said. 'Sorry.'
'Don't be foolish, Potter,' she said. 'You needn't apologize for something beyond your control. Run along, now.'
He stood and wobbled.
'Do you need someone to help you?' Vector asked. Hermione started to move.
'Er, no,' he said almost too quickly. Hermione coming along would defeat the entire purpose of this experiment, which would mean they'd have to do it all over again. 'I can make it. Thanks.'
Slowly but surely, Harry put one foot in front of the other and managed to get to the classroom door without swaying or crashing into anything. He'd only ever been seriously inebriated once in his life – at his and Ginny's engagement party – and this reminded him a lot of that feeling. Trying to walk straight was just as difficult, anyway.
The trek to the hospital wing was a long and arduous one. No matter what he'd told Professor Vector, it definitely would have been a lot easier with someone to help him. The hour was more than half gone when he finally arrived.
'Mr Potter,' Madam Pomfrey greeted him kindly. 'What appears to be ailing you?'
It took Harry a moment to realize that in this reality, he didn't have the history of repeated visits to the hospital wing that had always so exasperated the matron.
'I don't feel well,' he said lamely.
'Well I expected something of the sort,' she said dryly. 'Come in and lie down and we'll have a look at you.'
She led him to a bed and began to fuss over him, making him drink some water before she waved her wand over him. This had been another part of his and Ginny's plan. Would Madam Pomfrey be able to detect something they had not? She hadn't noticed anything when he'd been poisoned by Quirrel, but she had been focused on other things at the time. Besides, given that he was currently more affected than usual by time magic (presumably), maybe it would be easier for her to notice something.
'I'm not seeing anything wrong with you physically,' she said after completing her observations. Harry's hopes were dashed. But she had specified "physically". 'What did you say was wrong with you?'
'I feel really dizzy, and my head is fuzzy,' said Harry, who meant to describe each of his symptoms in detail in case they meant anything important. 'It's really hard to concentrate. I'm a bit queasy, but not enough to be sick. And I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions.'
'Two different directions, you say?' she repeated, eyebrows rising just a tad. 'I'm not sure what to make of that. Can you describe the feeling in any more detail?'
'I feel like...like there's a line down the center of me, and my two halves are badly stitched together, and someone's trying to pull them apart,' Harry said.
There was a pregnant pause. Madam Pomfrey had never been brought up short before as far as he knew. That didn't bode well.
'That's...an interesting description, Mr Potter,' she finally said. 'How long have you been feeling this way?'
'Since just before the start of this lesson,' he told her.
'You don't say,' she said shrewdly, narrowing her eyes.
'I'm not trying to skive off!' he insisted, not sure why he was so affronted. 'Arithmancy's the last class I'd ever do that for; I can't afford to. I can barely follow it as it is.'
'All right, all right, I believe you,' she said. 'Merlin knows you wouldn't be the first who'd tried if you did, mind. But you don't strike me as the type. Well then, let's see if we can't get to the bottom of this. What did you eat for breakfast?'
She fired off question after question, covering everything from how much he'd been sleeping to what he'd been doing in his spare time. Had he encountered anyone unusual lately? Noticed anything out of the ordinary? And, of course, dementors were brought up.
'I don't like them at all,' Harry said truthfully, giving an involuntary shiver. 'I haven't seen one up close since we all arrived at the beginning of term, though.'
'Ever gone near the gates or anywhere else they might be stationed?'
'No,' he said. 'I have been practicing the patronus charm with Professor Lupin, though. We've been using a boggart that turns into a dementor.' He wasn't sure why he was volunteering this information. His mind truly was muddled.
'Have you?' Madam Pomfrey said, sounding mildly interested. 'Well, that's something, but I can't see how it could result in the symptoms you describe. Have you ever felt this way before?'
'No,' he said.
'Truly a puzzle,' she said, clicking her tongue. She turned and trotted over to her office and came back a few moments later pushing a small cart carrying a rack of phials. 'I want to give you a potion for your queasiness first to see if it helps,' she explained. 'It won't be a strong one; we don't want any unexpected side effects. If you feel better, I'll see about finding something to help you clear your head.'
'Thank you,' he said, taking the potion she handed him and drinking it gratefully. Even knowing this would probably go away as soon as the hour was up, he was desperate for any kind of relief as soon as he could get it. It did settle his stomach just a little.
'Well?' Madam Pomfrey prompted. 'Do you feel any better?'
'A bit.'
'No adverse side effects?'
'...eh?'
'Nothing else feeling off?'
'Er, no. No, everything's about the same.'
The bell rang throughout the castle and they could hear the noise of hundreds of students pouring out into the corridors to make their way to their next classes.
'Hmm. All right, we'll try a Wideye Potion next. Might help to perk you up.' She picked up another phial from the cart and examined it, vanishing a third of its contents before nodding in satisfaction to herself.
'It's usually used to help treat concussions or druggings, but I don't want to try a Clearheaded Concentrate yet. Might be too strong and you'll be going about all day noticing every detail about everything and not able to stop thinking about any of it. You'll be exhausted by lunchtime. Here you go, then.'
As she handed it to him, Harry felt the fog lift from his brain. The room stopped rocking back and forth around him, his stomach felt calm as if he'd never been ill in his life, and the feeling of being pulled apart vanished as suddenly as it had come on.
Harry knew he had to drink the potion, even though he obviously no longer needed it, if he ever did in the first place. Regardless of whether he seemed the type, Madam Pomfrey would definitely grow suspicious if he experienced a miraculous recovery within a minute of lessons ending.
He downed the phial in a single gulp (it tasted terrible), and felt like he'd been splashed in the face with an entire bucket of ice water. The Wideye Potion definitely lived up to its name.
'Well? Anything?' asked Madam Pomfrey.
'I don't think I've ever been this awake or alert in my life,' he answered honestly.
'Hmm. Even that was too strong a dose? Maybe your confusion was being caused by something else. What about the rest of it? Still feeling dizzy? Pulled apart?'
'I don't...think so,' said Harry, pretending to think about it. Now that his brain was on overdrive, he could see how the sudden disappearance of his bizarre and unexplainable symptoms was going to be difficult to get by the clever matron.
'Fascinating,' she said. 'It's possible you were dosed with something after all, Potter, though I've never heard of anything that would create the effects you described. Perhaps some student's experiment? This is troubling. I'll want to watch you for a while to make sure your symptoms don't suddenly return, but after that you will be free to go. Report to me at once should you experience this feeling again.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
Harry left the hospital wing twenty minutes later, still not entirely certain whether Madam Pomfrey believed him or not. On the one hand, his story did sound a bit dodgy, for all he was telling the truth, but on the other hand, she had given him a real potion, which was now making him feel as though he'd downed six shots of espresso in rapid succession.
His next order of business (after attending the remainder of Transfiguration, of course), was to meet up with Ginny to retrieve his invisibility cloak and to compare notes. This would likely have to wait until after lunch.
Hermione was pleased to see him in Professor McGonagall's class, presenting him with a copy of her notes as well as some of Professor Vector's own lesson notes.
'She seemed to think it would be best if you didn't have to rely entirely on me,' said Hermione, who to Harry's amusement actually sounded a little put out by this. 'Being as her style is how you're used to getting the information.'
'Thanks, Hermione,' he said, taking the notes and stuffing them into his bag. He was going to have to find time to fit that in later as well. After two years of schooling that required nothing of him in terms of effort, these sudden demands on his time, despite being far less than what he'd had to do at work as an auror, were still proving to be a difficult adjustment. He'd grown lazy.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
'So what did you do?' Harry asked Ginny later that evening. It was their first night in the Room of Requirement in some time. They had spoken at lunch, but with so many people around, it was mostly about day to day things.
'Mostly just explored around. Kept away from my past self. Normal accidental time travel stuff. It was my first time, so to speak. I wanted to have some fun with it.'
'Where did you appear?' Harry asked, curious.
'Just off the Entrance Hall. That's around where I was at nine o'clock.' She had kept track, at his request.
'So we're still not sure if there's something about that part of the castle or if it's based on where you were at the time you're traveling back to.'
'Based on what you said about Hermione appearing in the dungeons, it's probably the latter,' said Ginny. 'Though they obviously would have to have made it so you don't appear exactly where you were. Be awfully difficult to hide from your past self in that case, wouldn't it?'
It did make sense that the Time Turners would have a built in safeguard like that, but bugger if he could figure out how it was supposed to work.
'What did it feel like when you were pulled back?' Harry asked.
'Mostly the same as what you described,' said Ginny. 'A mixture of a bad portkey, apparition, and floo powder mostly. It was weird. What about you? What happened to you?'
'Exactly what we were expecting,' Harry told her. 'And I think you were downplaying how uncomfortable it was.'
'Or you're just a wimp.'
'Also possible. Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to figure out what was wrong, though she did give me a partial dose of Wideye Potion, which I think is just now starting to wear off. I was worried I wouldn't get any sleep tonight.'
'Was she suspicious at all?' Ginny asked. 'That you felt ill at the start of your lesson and got better right at the end?'
'She gave me a look at first, but said she believed me when I promised her that wasn't it. Not one hundred percent sure, though. She might have given me the Wideye as something of a hard lesson, as she saw it.'
'Sounds like something she might do,' said Ginny. 'Anyway, no real harm done there. No point in either of us visiting her again with this if she wasn't able to find anything this time. It'll just give her and by extension Dumbledore something to wonder about.'
'Which is the last thing we want,' agreed Harry. 'In any case, we've managed to confirm a few things we've long suspected. As much as we can, anyway. We've definitely gone back in time, whatever caused it reacts with Hermione's Time Turner somehow, and the two of us are definitely connected by whatever it is as well. That's the only explanation I can think of for why one of us feels so ill when the other gets pulled back in time.'
'I think – and this is what I was thinking originally, but you're right that this mostly confirms it – that whatever our connection is, it gets confused when one of us is in two places at once. It's like we're tied together somehow, but at those times whatever it is that's tying us doesn't know which one we're supposed to be tied to. It tries to do both at once and so it feels like we're being pulled apart. I also think that...resonance, you called it? I think that must be whatever's connecting us. Whatever it is. We might try testing for it during a Time Turner episode and see what happens.'
'You're probably right,' said Harry. 'And that might be an experiment worth trying. The only problem is it would require both versions of the time traveler to be in one place at the same time, which is a huge taboo by all the rules of time travel that we know. And it would require the non time traveler to do the testing, but we wouldn't exactly be in the right state of mind to do that.'
Ginny frowned. 'Damn. You're right. Let's put that in our back pocket for now then. I think the next obvious thing we have to do is see what happens when we both get pulled back together, or if that even happens. Maybe it'll only affect whichever of us is closer to Hermione. Maybe whatever weird connection we have will be strong enough when we're together that it won't affect us at all.'
'I doubt that, but it's possible,' said Harry. 'And we have to be ready for the possibility that we'll both be negatively affected as much as that neither of us will be. But if you're right about what's causing it, and I think you are, that probably won't happen.'
'Bloody hell, can you imagine doing this kind of thing for a living?' Ginny asks. 'My head is starting to hurt just talking about all the variables. Those nutters in places like the Department of Mysteries and the Committee on Experimental Charms and such sure are something else.'
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Hallowe'en was upon them before they knew it, and with it the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. Harry had to pretend to be forlorn as he walked down with Ron and Hermione to the Entrance Hall to see him off. A bright spot of this was that they had temporarily stopped arguing about Crookshanks's repeated attempts on Scabbers's life in the face of Harry's perceived misfortune.
'Don't worry about me,' he told them as they waited in the queue for Filch to check their names with his list of those who had permission to visit the village. 'I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time.'
They clearly believed he was putting on a brave face for their sakes because they promised to bring him as many souviniers as they could manage.
Once they were gone, Harry began the trek back up to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't have much planned for the day, so thought he might make some headway on his imaginary apocolyptic scenarios, and maybe catch up on his Ancient Runes work, on which he was starting to lag behind. It wasn't so much that it was difficult, like Arithmancy, just time consuming and arduous. Fortunately Professor Babbling was as scatterbrained as any teacher – indeed anyperson –he'd ever met, so as long as he never fell more than a week behind she was unlikely to notice or care.
He heard Malfoy call out to him on his way back up the marble staircase, no doubt in an attempt to goad him in some way, but he paid it no mind. He thought back to what Luna had said over a year ago on the Hogwarts Express, about Malfoy being desperate for his attention. He'd laughed at the time (though not nearly as much as Ron), but every time something like this happened, he couldn't help wondering if it were somehow true, and if so, why that might be. He wondered if Malfoy and he were on good enough terms in the future for him to ask about it. Probably not. They had what could most generously be described as a "professionally civil" relationship. No outright hostility, but hardly close enough to be asking things like, 'Why were you such a berk back in school?'
Malfoy was the least of his concerns in any case. Strange how something like ten years of perspective could turn a schoolyard archnemesis into an occasional minor irritant.
'Fortuna major,' Harry said to the Fat Lady. He couldn't believe she hadn't bothered to change the password in two months. It was a marvel Sirius hadn't found out what it was and broken in already.
The common room was full of first and second years, and a smattering of older students who couldn't be bothered with Hogsmeade for whatever reason. Perhaps they'd just been so many times that the novelty had worn off. He himself couldn't imagine such a thing; they were in this castle for so long that any chance to get out for a bit was welcome as far as he was concerned. Even though Hogwarts was basically more home to him than his actual house, no place was immune to cabin fever.
'Harry! Harry! Hi, Harry!'
It was Colin Creevey, calling out to him from near the fireplace, where second years rarely got a chance to sit. He was with a small group of his yearmates.
'Aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Harry? Why not? Hey –' he looked eagerly back at his friends, 'you can come and sit with us if you like, Harry!'
Harry felt the urge to grin but suppressed it. Mostly. The kid never had outgrown that enthusiasm nor his borderline awe of Harry. He'd never really been given a chance to. If Harry did end up staying here, he would ensure that this time he would.
'Sure, Colin,' he said. 'What are you lot up to?'
The second year could barely contain his excitement as he lead Harry back to the sofa and chairs where he and his friends were talking, and playing exploding snap. It hadn't been his plan for the day, but Harry joined in happily enough. A few more second years (including Ginny) came to join them, and they played gobstones, chess, some muggle parlor games Harry had never heard of, and enough exploding snap to make them go temporarily deaf. He didn't get any work done, but he thoroughly enjoyed his afternoon. A few of these kids had been in his class when he'd come back to do his seventh year after spending what should have been his final year on the run. Bruce Richards had even joined the aurors along with him and Lavender, though Harry was of course nowhere near as close to Bruce as he was to his partner.
Harry's ears were still slightly ringing and his spirits still high when Ron and Hermione returned at dusk laden with as many sweets as they could carry and full of tales of all the wonders that made up Hogsmeade.
'Zonko's was wild, Harry! Can't believe Fred and George didn't spend all their time in there.'
'The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls...'
'Honeydukes have got a new kind of fudge...'
'We think we saw an ogre...'
'The Shrieking Shack! I mean, it's creepy looking, but I didn't expect to actually hear anything. Scared the bloody tar out of me!'
This caught Harry up short.
'Wait, what?'
'Yeah,' said Ron, 'seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, didn't it, Hermione?'
'It did,' Hermione agreed, nodding. 'It gave me shivers all over.'
'They named that place right, they did,' said Ron. 'Sounded like someone being tortured. Maybe more than one. Hard to tell. We didn't feel like sticking around, to be honest.'
Harry and Ginny shared a look. Her eyes were as wide as his.
'Wish we could have brought you some Butterbeer,' said Ron, already moving on. 'Really warms you up.'
'What did you do?' asked Hermione kindly. 'Did you get any work done?'
'Er, no,' said Harry, forcing himself out of his shock. 'But it's all right. Had a lot of fun. Even learned some muggle parlor games.'
'Ooh, you'll have to show me!' said Hermione. 'I don't actually know many myself. I wonder if Professor Burbage has heard of them...'
'Now you've got her on about schoolwork again,' said Ron, rolling his eyes. 'Took about what? Two and a half minutes? Might be a record. Anyway Harry, Stephen and Natalie say hello. We spent most of the day with them; they've got some stuff for you too next time you see them.'
'Oh, er, thanks! I mean, I guess I should thank them.' Harry idly wondered, if this had been his life the first time, would he have taken Stephen and Natalie into his confidence? Would they eventually know about Sirius and everything else he, Ron, and Hermione would ultimately get up to? Or would he continue to keep them at arm's length? Perhaps the reason his social circle had been so small before was that he'd had so many secrets.
Although, he realized, even as he was thinking about it, he had far more secrets this time around and it didn't seem to be hurting him any. Or did it? Was he as close to Ron and Hermione as before? He hadn't ever truly stopped to think about it, but was he really? Of course he felt an attachment to them, but that was from the future. Lives they hadn't yet lived and would never remember. Did they feel that closely bonded to him? If he wanted to go flying off to London to save his godfather from Voldemort, would they jump to come with him without hesitation?
The thought that they might not made him desperately sad, for all that it meant they'd likely be safer.
'Are you all right, Harry?' Hermione asked. She really was too damn perceptive sometimes.
'Fine,' said Harry, putting on his well practiced brave face. 'Come and join us. I'm sure Colin will teach you some of the games if you want.'
They didn't have much time before the feast, but Harry at least managed to pull himself together. The longing for his old life didn't hit him as often as it once had, but it still packed the same emotional punch whenever it did.
And what was that about someone being tortured at the Shrieking Shack? That had definitely never happened before; he would have heard about it for sure. And if he hadn't, Ginny certainly would have. She'd always been much more plugged into the Hogwarts social scene and gossip network than he had.
What could it have been? Nothing they'd done differently could have caused anything like that. And it couldn't have been Lupin, who after all had been the one to make the noises that caused people to fear the old shack in the first place. For one thing, the full moon wasn't for several more days yet (he'd been keeping track), and for another, it had been the middle of the day. Werewolves only ever transformed at night. Had some actual spirits taken up residence there? If so, why?
His first thought was to ask Sirius about it, since he knew that Sirius occasionally used the Shrieking Shack as a hideout while hunting Wormtail and might have been in there at the time, but then he remembered that was because Sirius was still supposed to be a crazy murderer as far as he should have known. Not someone he could casually send an owl to. He was getting his timelines crossed in his brain, not for the first time, and probably not the last.
The feast itself was as delicious as ever. Even Ron and Hermione, who'd stuffed themselves with food both at the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes, ate a bit of everything. It was after the feast that Harry and Ginny received confirmation that some things, at least, were still on track. When they returned to Gryffindor Tower, it was to find the Fat Lady's portrait had been attacked, and Peeves cackling madly about Sirius Black.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Gosh, I wonder what all that was about?
Leave a review with your thoughts/theories/other things!
