January 10, 1992
When Harry came back to school after the holidays, he immediately showed the Invisibility Cloak to his friends while in their usual spot. They gawked at the fluid, silvery gray cloak with wonder. Hermione even went to check its texture, gasping: "It's like water woven into material!"
"No idea as to who gave it to you?" inquired Victor, turning from the material being crowded to Harry's face.
"Not a single one," lied Harry smoothly. He had been learning tricks from the Occlumency book Victor had given him in Christmas. Harry honestly thought that his learning now had been easier than when he was learning before. Perhaps it was the growing pressure that year that prevented him to focus. Nonetheless, he still needed a proper mentor to learn.
Harry would be damned if he let Snape mentor him again. He might have forgiven the man for all his actions, that didn't mean that he'd like him enough to be subjected to long hours of pure torture. There was Dumbledore as an option but Harry was reluctant. He felt like it wasn't just the right time to expose everything to him, and he needed to learn before fourth year at least.
A small voice at the back of his head whispered traitorously that it served him right for keeping him in the dark.
Victor stared at Harry before his sight moved, slipping from directly at Harry's eyes to the distance behind them. A familiar voice bellowed, calling his name.
"Potter!"
Harry turned around and saw the approaching burly figure of Oliver Wood, his Quidditch captain. He could hear Victor tell the others to hide the cloak which Neville and Ron took as sitting on it, as Harry saw in his periphery. Raising his arms, he waved at Oliver.
"What's up, Oliver?" asked Harry as Oliver came to a stop in front of him. "And where've you been, looking harried like that?"
Oliver greeted the others before answering Harry. "Set up an appointment with Madam Hooch to book the Quidditch pitch. We'll have a practice tomorrow, seven o'clock in the morning. Rain or shine."
Hermione balked. "What? That's brutal!"
Harry sobered as he remembered that they were playing against Hufflepuff this time. Oliver would work the team harder than ever because if they won this match, their House Points would overtake Slytherin's and Gryffindor would be in the running for House Champion for the first time in seven years.
"Well," acknowledged Oliver. "I don't like it more than you do but if Gryffindor wins the match against Hufflepuff, Slytherin will be dethroned in the lead for House Champion."
Ron whooped, immediately forgetting he was supposed to hide the cloak he was sitting on. Luckily, Oliver did not notice.
"But that's not the main reason why the team has to work harder. Snape's refereeing," grimaced Oliver.
Collectively, all the pieces came together in their minds and their face fell. Oliver, thinking that Snape would be biased against Gryffindor and would dock them a lot more points to hinder Gryffindor's chances in winning the House Cup while Harry's friends were worried Snape might jinx him again.
Ron's face could only be described as horrified. Hermione turned to Harry before saying, "Don't play."
The delivery was so serious that Oliver exclaimed a loud what, but it seemed like they didn't hear him as they all nodded gravely.
"Say you're ill," supported Victor.
"Pretend to break your leg," chimed Neville.
"Really break your leg," piped Ron.
"Potter, if you ever think for a second about not playing, I'll break your leg."
"Oliver, even if I did, I can't. There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."
After exchanging a few more words with Harry, Oliver left the group and headed to the castle. They stayed for a long time brainstorming and putting their heads together to plan on what needs to be done. It was Hermione who suggested to study counter-curses, counter-hexes, and counter-jinxes while Victor volunteered to scour the library for reference materials.
Harry had not given an input and let his friends plan because even if he stopped them, they'd still proceed with the plan. When it was time to head back, the group overheard Draco Malfoy exclaim near the Great Hall entrance:
"Oh, Macmillan! Just the man I need. I've been looking for someone to practice this on: Locomotor Mortis!"
The group dashed towards the noise and saw Draco Malfoy's wand pointed towards a fallen Ernest Macmillan whose legs have been locked by the curse. No other people seemed to be around. Harry had expected Ernie was accompanied by at least Hannah, Justin, and Susan.
"Stupefy!"
Red sparks flew out of Neville Longbottom's new cherry wand and hit Malfoy in the chest—and wow, that was a lot more powerful than his display last year during the evaluation. Harry was awed at how far Neville had come; his face contorted in rage at Draco's injustice – the old timeline's first-year Neville didn't hold a candle to this Neville. Draco crumpled to the ground, a far worse fate than he did Ernie.
By that point, Hermione had freed Ernie by casting – "Locomotor Motus" – the counter-curse. Standing up, Ernie looked at all of them earnestly, "Thanks."
Before they could even craft a reply, the four Heads of Houses walked in the scene. Shocked, Professor McGonagall clutched the hem of her green tartan robes. Professor Flitwick's hat fell when he squeaked while Professor Sprout's foot dangled in midair as the she took in the scene. The first to recover from their shock was Snape, whose eyes were now wide glaring at Harry.
"What is the meaning of this?" hissed Snape, probably drawing the wrong conclusions already. No one was able to reply as he swiftly traveled the distance between him and Draco before casting, "Ennervate."
Draco woke up disoriented, his eyes widened in fear as Neville stayed in his line of sight. Snape's eyes roamed from Draco to the group. "Tell your professors, Draco, how Potter and his friends terrorized you."
"That is not what happened!" said Hermione, indignantly.
"A point from Gryff—" Snape's statement stirred McGonagall and the others from her shock. "Now, wait just a minute, Severus. We haven't even learned the whole story, yet!"
"We don't have to! Obviously, the Dream Team will cover for each other—"
"Dream Team? Be reasonable, Severus. You are grown to be acting like this," said Sprout, dryly.
"Fine, believe in whatever lies they concoct!" said Snape through gritted teeth. He looked back at Draco. "Well, are you going to tell us what happened?"
As Draco was about to speak up, so did the group. Ernie glanced at them briefly, sending them a look, before loudly speaking: "It was me who did it to Draco, Professor."
The group looked at each other in surprise. That wasn't what happened. It made Harry think of last timeline when Hermione lied to Professor McGonagall. Wait—Harry's line of thought was cut off when Snape's lip curled as he exclaimed, "Detention!"
"But it was Draco who cursed him first!" said Harry, immediately. "If there was someone who deserved detention, it's Malfoy!"
Snape directed his venom at Harry and he sneered, "Would you like to join Macmillan, Potter?"
"Harry doesn't have anything to do with this, Professor," replied Ernie, his voice startingly steady. "Draco cursed me with Leg-Locker and I retaliated by aiming a perfectly good shot of a Stunning Spell. That's how they" – he pointed at Harry and his friends – "found us. Hermione was gracious enough to perform the counter-curse."
"A likely story," scoffed Snape.
Professor Sprout raised her eyebrows as she walked over to place a hand on top of Ernie's shoulders. "Well, if you still insist that my Badger be detained, shouldn't your Snake, too, Severus?"
Snape's face soured. "Bah! Fine, Malfoy will also serve a detention with me—"
"Oh, you're mistaken, Severus. As deputy headmistress, I think I have the authority to decide on their detentions being served."
Malfoy all but petulantly marched towards the dungeons after Professor McGonagall had told them to run along. She also added that the detention will be administered privately in her office when she had decided on it. Harry had an inkling what the detention would be.
They had lingered for a while in silence before Neville broke it: "You didn't have to do that, Ernie."
"I didn't," agreed Ernie with a smile. Honestly, he was the first person Harry had known to have smiled after learning that he would serve detention. But then, Harry thought that was incredibly loyal, fitting of Ernie's house. "But I owed you – all of you. Consider this an act of gratitude. Who knows what else might have happened if you didn't arrive?"
February 1, 1992
The whole school had shown up for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match – even Dumbledore's come to watch! That eased their minds, if only for a little bit. Ron breathed a sigh of relief but he knew better than to be lax – this was Snape they were talking about!
Ernie, who had sat with them despite belonging in the House that Gryffindor's fighting in today's match, couldn't understand why they looked so grim or why they had brought their wands to the match. They even chose to sit near the referee stand just so they could have a better aim if Snape tried anything funny.
Moments later, while the match was still on-going, the Slytherin boys had edged closer to them and talked loudly wanting to be noticed.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? Nott? Rosier? Macmillan? What about you, Weasley?"
Ron and Ernie glared but otherwise didn't answer. They were too focused on looking after Harry zooming in the air. Meanwhile, in the air, Harry was trying not to lose himself in his thoughts as he saw Cedric Diggory opposite him. The Hufflepuff's death had always haunted him, and the one he always regretted.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded a penalty to Hufflepuff for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for –"
Malfoy was cut off when Victor replied without a beat and without turning his head from the match. "You better not go there, Malfoy. You'll regret it. Want another detention on your hands?"
Malfoy growled. "If it weren't for you meddlesome fools, I'd have gotten away with it."
Neville, who had been quiet throughout the entire exchange, snapped. "Oh yeah? See if you can get away from this."
There was a thud as Draco hit the ground, his hands clutched around his nose. Neville had thrown a punch. Before anyone knew what was happening, Ernie had stood up to block Theodore Nott from helping Draco who had been pinned down by Neville, wrestling him on the ground. Ron was pushing Vincent Crabbe while Victor Rosier had locked his arm around Gregory Goyle's neck, restricting him movement.
Blaise Zabini held his wand up, unsurely, while Hermione just raised her eyebrows at him. Wisely, he extracted himself from the scene and walked away. Hermione turned back to watching the game as other spectators tried to break up the fight around them. She couldn't care less about petty roughhousing when Harry could be in so much more danger.
"Come on, Harry," Lavender Brown screamed, leaping on her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape. Hermione looked up and clasped her wand tightly.
Harry had caught the Snitch moments later and the crowd erupted. "We've won!" exclaimed Oliver Rivers, a second-year Gryffindor who was shaking her sister Olive, a first-year Hufflepuff. "Gryffindor's in the lead!"
Sally-Anne Perks and Sophie Roper raised their fists as they screamed while Hermione danced up and down on her seat, hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.
Later that night, as they were having dinner in the Great Hall, owls swooped down and dropped an issue of the Evening Prophet whose headline stated:
BLACK EXONERATED! PETTIGREW CHARGED!
Harry couldn't help a broad grin from his face as he continued to read the content of the news story. All in all, life was good.
April 1992
Life was not good. Harry couldn't believe that even if he tried avoiding it, he still got detention. Oh, they had delivered Norberta – and Harry had pointed out that she was a female dragon to Hagrid – successfully and was well on her way to Charlie Weasley. Ron was still bit by the dragon, though.
It was him and Victor Rosier – who, like Hagrid, was enamored by the dragon – that smuggled the dragon to the Astronomy Tower. As Harry had learned the hard way, he had not forgotten the Invisibility Cloak and managed to avoid Filch on the way back. But Gryffindor Tower and Ravenclaw Tower were far apart, and Harry, confident he wasn't going to get caught, gave Victor the Invisibility Cloak to use. Oh, what a mistake it had been.
Snape was waiting in the entrance of the dormitories. It seemed that Draco had not only tattled to McGonagall but preemptively informed Snape as well, if the wicked smirk on his pale face was any indication. Harry stood frozen on the corridor while Snape marched towards him.
Dammit.
Unlike last time, the shame that came with the detention wasn't bad. Gryffindor may have lost fifty points but they were still on the lead. Victor had profusely apologized to him when tomorrow came as he gave back the Invisibility Cloak. Harry reassured Victor that he was fine but his thoughts were preoccupied.
From Harry's vantage point, a lot had changed in his first year. Neville being braver, Victor Rosier, new teachers, Wormtail exposed and caught, Sirius exonerated, seeing Snape less, meeting new relations and other reconnections, and no one had discovered the Mirror of Erised. They didn't even have to parse the library for information about Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone!
Harry had changed a lot in a significant time, but he was gripped by gnawing fear whether these things might backfire later on or that everything still was remaining largely the same.
But it had changed. It already changed. But why did a lot of events had to happen despite Harry's best efforts to avoid them? The discovery of Fluffy, the Troll Incident in Hallowe'en, and the detention in Forbidden Forest.
Harry would like to discuss this with someone – Victor. Victor who had been the one who casted the spell. But what good would that do? Harry didn't know if the Ravenclaw had discovered Merlin's Cove in the Sphinx Club.
But could it be that time was weaving itself into a correct design – its correct course – despite any changes that he did?