Time Turner

November 2^nd,11:05 pm

Harry Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

Harry turned over in his huge four-poster bed and tried to settle himself once again. He resisted the urge to reach his hand through the red velvet hangings of his canopy bed and grab his watch to see if it was indeed too late to go. He resisted because a voice in his head repeated the words he’d heard over and over again that past week. They were words he’d been told five years ago during his first year at Hogwarts and the person who’d told him these words was a person he would be loyal to until his dying day.

That was why the decision was so difficult.

Harry never felt what it was like to lose his parents; they’d died when he was only a baby. But during his first year at Hogwarts, he had found them, not in physical form, or even ghost form. But in an image that he’d gazed at night after night, risking even his own safety to see. Harry had found his hearts desire in the Mirror of Erised. He had found visions of his family, his parents. It had been one night while Harry stared into the contents of the mirror, trying to devour the site with his eyes that Dumbledore had found him. And Dumbledore’s words had not been unheard or unfelt by Harry. “The mirror will be moved to new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.”

An anger, deep and painful, filled Harry just then as he tossed and turned in bed and stared at the dark curtains. That had been before, though. Before the events that had transpired last year, before Voldemort’s return to power. Just the thought of it turned his anger into that quick stab of fear he always felt when he heard the words “You-Know-Who,” or when someone at the breakfast table burst into tears while reading the latest news in the mail about something that had happened outside the safe confines of Hogwarts. The promise he’d made to Dumbledore was before Harry had known what it was to truly live in fear. Fear that he would wind up in mortal danger, fear for one of his friends getting hurt or even worse.

“Kill the spare!”

Cedric's stubborn face appeared in Harry’s mind. Cedric was shaking his head with his arms crossed, refusing to take the Triwizard Cup.

The grief Harry felt went much deeper than his fear as he stared up at the velvet curtains, his eyes unfocused. Harry didn’t blame himself for Cedric’s death. He was smart enough to know that he could not have controlled the events that had transpired surrounding the Triwizard Tournament. Nor could Harry in his right mind be angry with himself for not taking the Cup on his own. It had been rightfully Cedric’s. Cedric had gotten to the center of the maze unscathed and because of his loyalty and good-heartedness, Cedric had lost his life.

In the last five years, Harry had overcome many obstacles, each one making him stronger and more courageous. But it seemed that he got though each and every problem to move on and face the next. When would it end? Would it end?

Harry’s need for guidance was stronger now than it had ever been in his life. He needed to ask these questions to someone. He needed to be the weak one for a change and let someone else be strong for him. He needed . . . his parents.

At this, he thought of Sirius. And the fear came back. It had been almost one whole month since Harry had owled Sirius. And Hedwig had returned . . . but without a response. Sirius had not told him where he was living, but Harry remembered Dumbledore telling Sirius to stay with Professor Lupin. He wondered if something had happened . . . to Sirius or Professor Lupin. At these thoughts, Harry felt tears prickle at the back of his throat. If he lost Sirius, he would have no family, none whatsoever. No person out there, thinking only of his safety and well-being. Nobody to call on . . . Nobody . . .

The Weasleys, of course, were the closest thing Harry had to a family. But they weren’t his and they never would be. Sometimes the jealousy of Ron overwhelmed Harry. Even though he had no doubt in his mind that he could call on Mr. Weasley for guidance, Mrs. Weasely for comfort, and Ron would always be there for him no matter what. He knew these things as much as he knew anything. But the Weasleys weren’t his. They never would be.

At once, Harry yanked the covers off of him and drew back the hangings of his bed. He was suddenly sick of trying to do the right thing, sick of keeping every promise he’d ever made. Harry strapped on his watch, which read 11:05pm. He tiptoed to the end of his bed and retrieved the Invisibility Cloak from his trunk. He also tucked the Marauder’s Map in the pocket of his pajama pants and pulled a sweater over his head.

The sweater he wore had a picture of a dragon sewn on the front, a Christmas gift from last year. Harry somehow felt safe when he wore it now.

Harry disappeared under the cloak as he reached the spiral staircase leading down to the Gryffindor common room and started to descend the steps slowly as to not make a sound. He tiptoed through the common room carefully, glancing every which way in case someone emerged from behind a chair. But the room was quite empty and Harry weaved through the armchairs and sofas. However, just as he was reaching the portrait hole, someone stood up from the huge armchair closest to the hole, turned, and smashed right into Harry.

It was Ginny Weasley. Harry watched her eyes widen and her mouth open in absolute terror from bumping into solid air. He knew her open mouth would emit a loud scream any second, so he did the only thing he could think of. He spoke.

“Ginny! Shh! It’s me, Harry!”

Her mouth remained open now in complete and utter shock, her eyes wide with terror. The look on her face suddenly reminded Harry of the look on Ron’s when they’d met an unfortunately large spider in the Forbidden Forest their second year.

“Harry!?” she exclaimed, looking all around, turning this way and that. “What, how, where-“

“I’m under the Invisibility Cloak!”
“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

“Oh, honestly-“ Harry yanked off the cloak.

Ginny clutched her heart at the sight of him, and stared him up and down to make sure he was, in fact, real. Then she collapsed onto a cushy sofa of scarlet velvet, breathing very hard.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said awkwardly, watching her shake and feeling like a great big idiot. “I didn’t see anyone.”

Ginny let out a loud, shrill laugh. “Oh, yes, I completely understand. I didn’t see anyone either, a small problem that was.” Ginny glanced up at him and watched his bottle green eyes crinkle with reluctant amusement. Before either of them knew it, they were grinning widely at each other over the absurdity of the situation.

 

 

November 2^nd, 11:05pm

James Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

Pulling the Invisibility Cloak over his head, James Potter flashed down the spiral staircase in his slipper clad feet and skidded to a halt at the base of the stairs. The Gryffindor common room was quite empty as it appeared and James glanced at his watch, which read 11:05pm. He had a good 25 minutes before he had to meet Sirius and Remus, but James never missed an opportunity to wander around Hogwarts, particularly at night, particularly with Filch at his heels. He often found himself quoting his best friend Sirius, “No danger and no risk, equals no fun, mate!”

They were words to live by in James’ opinion.

James started to walk towards the portrait hole, fully intent on charming the Fat Lady into letting him out without a scolding. It was a sudden movement to his right that stopped him. He stood completely still and glanced sideways. James sighed with relief. Lily Evans was sitting in the huge chair closest to the portrait hole, clad in her PJ’s, engrossed in a particularly large novel.

James grinned.

She made such a pretty picture, her bright red hair twisted into two long, thick braids, one of which she was twirling around her finger. Her face was illuminated by the candlelight next to her and her bottle green eyes were practically popping out of their sockets as she read what was apparently a frightening story. Her feet were tucked underneath her and she was wearing a white cotton nightdress.

James couldn’t resist. Careful to keep the cloak over his arm and hand, he reached out and grabbed the braid out of her hand and gave it a small tug. Lily gasped and sat up strait as James let go and took a few steps back.

Lily’s eyes showed startled fright at first, then narrowed knowingly. “James Potter, I know it’s you, in that ridiculous cloak!” She whispered heatedly. Clutching the book firmly in her hand, she stood up. “Where are you?”

His grin widening, James took a careful step forward and snatched the book out of her hand. Lily watched the book fly away as if the wind were carrying it. She shook her head and lunged. But James Potter was not the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for nothing. He darted this way and that with Lily close behind him. It was now a game and she laughed breathlessly, slipping on her fuzzy slippers and making constant grabs for the book. She finally stopped, breathing heavily and laughing despite herself. “If you don’t stop it this instance, I’m going to turn you into a spider, just like the evil ghost in that book!” James stood at the other end of the room, however the only thing Lily could see was the book going round and round in a circle. She imagined he must be getting dizzy and would fall over eventually. But nothing doing.

“Okay, fine,” she announced in a loud whisper. “I give in, you’ve won, and I hope you’re very happy with yourself.”

At that, the book flew through the air and Lily caught it in both hands, startled. Then she glanced all around the common room. “James?” she said very sternly, but the hint of mischief still gleamed in her eyes. “That’s really clever of you, that is. Now there is no way for me to tell where-“ She let out a slight scream as something tackled her and she went flying back against a cushy sofa of scarlet velvet. She struggled under the weight of the invisible man and yanked the cloak off of him.

What she saw made her young heart skip a beat. Messy black hair, a huge grin and glasses askew, he was everything her heart had ever dreamt of. “I suppose you’re very proud of yourself,” she said, trying to be stern and keep a strait face. However she was sharing a sofa with the boy, and he was sitting far too close for comfort and making no move to get up.

“Oh, yes,” James mocked, pulling on one of her braids, causing her to smack his hand away.

“You are acting entirely too forward, sir,” she said in a very proper, distinguished sort of way. “Sit at the other end of the sofa, go on with you.”

He pretended to think. “Actually, I think I want to sit right . . . here.” He slid towards her, inching her off the sofa.

“James!” she cried and gripped the arm of the lounge as he kept scooting towards her. “Stop it,” she laughed, “I’m going to fall off the-“ Plop! She landed on her buttocks on the hard floor.

At the look on her face, James laughed so hard, he had tears in his eyes.

“Think it’s so very funny, do you?” On impulse, she reached out and grabbed his ankle, pulling him as hard as she could off of the sofa. After a few minutes of laughing and struggling, she finally managed to pull James onto the floor next to her. He cracked his head on the arm of the sofa.

They’re eyes met, both pairs full of mirth and daring.

“Now you’ve done it,” James said very seriously and made a spectacular roll, grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and covered himself.

Lily groaned. “Oh, not again!”

 

 

November 2^nd

Harry Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

Ginny watched Harry’s grin fade suddenly while he turned to look at the portrait hole. He seemed to be fighting an inner battle with himself. “Something interesting out there?” she asked quietly, and began to wonder if he was meeting anyone in particular. She watched him nod slowly and to her complete horror, found herself blurting out, “Who?”

Harry turned to look at her so suddenly that Ginny jumped. She found his eyes so full of sadness and reserve that Ginny knew this went deeper than his Ravenclaw crush.

“My parents,” he said in a low voice.

She didn’t know what to say to this, so she simply looked at him.

Harry turned to look at the portrait hole again. “Probably no good in looking for something that isn’t there,” he muttered to more himself than to her. “Stupid, really.”

At a loss for words, Ginny looked down at the red and gold rug below her feet. She would gladly sit for hours on end and listen to Harry talk about what was on his mind and how he felt about everything that was going on right now. But he didn’t talk to her much. Not about serious things, anyway. It was okay for Harry to mumble something insignificant about Ron to her when they both thought Ron was being a prat . . . it was okay for Harry to laugh with her about something the twins did . . .or for Harry to help her with her Summoning Charm. But Harry didn’t regard Ginny as his friend, just his best friend’s little sister.

“What’s that you’re reading?” Harry asked her.

Ginny glanced down at the novel that she’d thrown on the couch. “Oh, it’s a ghost story. ‘The Haunting of the Dreadful Wood’.”

Harry sat down next to her on the scarlet velvet sofa. “Is it good?” he asked with interest.

Ginny nodded, realizing that Harry was looking for some sort of escape just then. Perhaps her book could be it. “Nearly Headless Nick actually recommended it. It’s about the many ghosts recorded to have been in the Dreadful Wood during the eighteenth century.”

“Hmm.” Harry picked up the thick novel and leafed through it. “It’s rather thick.” he commented.

“It’s very good,” she said. “Ron would hate it, though. There’s this incredibly vulgar scene in there where the evil ghost, Mulgandro, sets a spell on a cottage dweller, turning him into a huge spider. It was rather disgusting.”

Harry made a face and handed her back the book. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Ginny smiled. “It’s actually not as scary as it should be. Nick told me the truth of how it all came about. Apparently, he was acquainted with Mulgandro who was actually a poltergeist. Anyway, Mulgandro wasn’t nearly powerful enough to turn anyone into anything much less a person into a spider. It appeared he could tell an enjoyable and entertaining story. So to every person who entered the wood, he would talk about spiders’ habits and a particular spider, which had been turned into a human. This spider-turned-human had once told Mulgandro all about how life as a spider was far better than life as a human. Mulgandro then regaled these tales to all who passed through the wood. He made life as a spider sound very appealing and would unavoidably wind up convincing his victims to put the spells on themselves.”

Harry looked amazed, but to Ginny’s chagrin it wasn’t at her summary of the story. “Cool. And to think, we all thought Nick lead a boring life. Or death . . . whatever.”

She sighed. “Quite the contrary, I suppose.”

Ginny studied Harry as he studied a pattern on the sofa. There was a deep and impenetrable sadness about him at that moment. Even though he wasn’t frowning, Harry looked… lost. Ginny knew that he had set out looking for something tonight, but there was something else, something stronger, holding him back just then. As Ginny watched his eyes now wander over the common room, every single familiar nook and cranny, every chair, every tapestry, Ginny thought she understood. There was something about the common room, Ginny could never quite put her finger on it. The room itself was a sort of shield. You could be having a terrible day and think that nothing will make it worse, until you set foot inside the portrait hole. Something about the room, the safety of it, made everything look just a bit more normal.

“Where were you going to go?” Harry asked her. “When you got up from the chair. Were you going to bed, then?”

“Oh,” Ginny said. “No, I was moving closer to the fire.”

Harry nodded and stood up. “I should let you get back to your book, then. Sorry, about… you know . . . the cloak,” he mumbled.

She stood and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

He walked to the staircase while Ginny settled herself in a chair closer to the fire. She watched him walk towards the spiral staircase and put his foot on the first step.

“You don’t have to leave,” Ginny blurted out and for the second time that night, she cursed her tongue. “I mean, that is to say, I wouldn’t mind if you were to, perhaps, just . . .” she trailed off and cast her eyes around the room. “If you were to just . . . sit.”

Her words lingered over them and after a few seconds silence Ginny raised her eyes to look at Harry. He looked just then like a lost soul. Someone who hadn’t a clue what to do next, someone who was . . . lost . . . lost and alone.

“Where were you going? Before you bumped into me?” Ginny asked quietly.

Harry cast his head to the side to look at her. “Nowhere important really.”

Ginny looked down and nodded. Obviously, he didn’t want her to know, for he had evaded the question twice. “Good night, Harry,” she said softly, and opened her book.

Harry sighed. “ ‘Night.” And he walked slowly up the spiral staircase and into the dormitory.

November 2^nd

James Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

“Are you going to tell me where you were sneaking out to or are you going to make me guess, James Potter?” Lily asked, twirling her marshmallow-stick in the fire. Lily kept a stash of her favorite Muggle treat, marshmallows, in her trunk. She’d had the idea when James asked what it was that Muggles did while they camped. He never got enough of asking her all about the Muggle world, which was so different than his own world. So they sat on the floor in front of the massive fireplace, eating burnt marshmallows and finding a great many things hilarious.

“Well?” she asked him again, and doubled over in giggles as James burned the roof of his mouth while sticking an entire mallow inside.

“Come on, tell me.”

“I told you! Nowhere important, really.”

“Going out to meet your girlfriend?” she asked, batting her eyes at him and grinning when he tossed a marshmallow at her.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he retorted.

“What about Charlotte McFadden? She was looking at you all through Herbology. I thought she would faint when you asked her to borrow her shears.”

“Yeah, right.” James laughed at the prospect of the prettiest girl in the year fainting over him.

“It’s the truth! Honestly, I’m not telling a lie. She’s one of the prettiest girls in school. Sirius will be jealous, I suppose. It seems as though he fancies her.”

“Yeah, well, it’s no big deal,” James said, getting uncomfortable. Didn’t Lily know that he didn’t care about Charlotte McFadden in the least? Didn’t Lily know that he really cared the most about . . . well, about her? A horrible thought crossed his mind. What if Lily didn’t know how he felt? James thought he had made it evident by teasing her all the time. Perhaps that wasn’t the way to go about it and he had spent half of last year and the beginning of this year being a total prat to her for nothing?

“You were very nice to her,” Lily continued, enjoying herself. “Perhaps you should examine exactly how you feel about her. Like I said she is one of the prettiest girls in school. And she’s very popular, and she’s a great Quidditch player . . . you have great chemistry with her while your flying together-“ Lily broke off and tried not smile. James was staring at her with a look of utter disbelief on his face. James caught the humor in her eyes just before she covered it up. The relief was swift, and he considered having his own fun at her expense. However, he decided almost a year of banter was quite enough for now. So he grinned and leaned forward. “You know, she’s not the prettiest girl in the school.”

“No?” Lily whispered, grinning back and blushing furiously.

He shook his head. “No, not by a long shot.”

“Well, then, in your opinion, who is the prettiest girl in the school?” she asked.

However, the opportunity presented itself and James found he couldn’t resist. “Well, it’s a tie. A tie between the Gray Lady and Professor McGona-“

He couldn’t finish his sentence, she’d hit him in the face with a pillow. They engaged in an instant pillow fight with the embroidered pillows that lined the sofa. When they stopped, breathless and laughing in hushed voices, James grinned at her, feeling a little tug around his heart. It was that feeling which caused him to lean forward and press his lips to hers. It was a clumsy, split-second kiss, but one they would both remember as their first. Just as they would both remember that night for the rest of their lives.

 

Morning of November 3^rd, Harry Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

“No, please, not Harry! Not Harry, take me instead!”

“Stand aside, girl, stand aside!”

“Not Harry, no, please! NO!!”

 

Harry sat up straight in bed, his face burning, his body soaked with sweat. He took fast, shallow breaths and tried to stop shaking. The need to know what time it was overtook him and he reached clumsily for his glasses and watch on the bedside table. The watch read 1:09am. He’d only been asleep for a little over an hour.

The dreams were coming nightly now. Sometimes, they didn’t wake him up, but Harry would remember pieces of them when he awoke in the morning. Other times, they were terrifying nightmares where he relived everything that had happened after he’d touched the Triwizard Cup in the maze last year. At these times Harry would wake up with a start, drenched with sweat, his heart beating furiously. About a month ago, he’d woken up screaming and the entire dormitory had awoken along with him. Ron had been in a complete panic and Neville had burst into tears.

It shamed Harry unbearably.

But his friends had been loyal to him. Neville had told him in a shaky voice that he had dreams like that as well. It had been that night when Neville had opened up to Harry, Ron, Seamus and Dean about his parents’ condition. The five boys had sat up for hours talking about their fears where Voldemort was concerned and the things that had already come to pass at Voldemort’s hand.

Perhaps one of the boys was awake now, he thought. “Ron?” Harry whispered loudly. He heard covers shift and then nothing. “Neville?” Harry whispered. Nothing.

Harry slid from the bed and walked over to the castle window. He gazed out at the grounds below and wished he were out there, under the moonlight and feeling the cool November air. He gazed at a movement near the edge of the forest and saw to his utter amazement, the brilliant radiance of a unicorn peek out from the thick trees. At once, Harry pressed his nose to the glass to try and get a better look. He watched the magnificent creature bend down to graze on some grass. After a moment, a second creature came out of the forest. Was it . . . a horse? It was different than a horse and Harry knew straight away . . . it was a stag. The stag and the unicorn ran playfully together over the grounds for a few minutes, stopping to nuzzle their noses together. Then to Harry’s immense disappointment, the two gorgeous creatures darted back into the forest.

When Harry stepped away from the window, he had a small smile on his face. He knew who he’d like to think the unicorn and the stag were, knew it was impossible, but smiled at the beauty of them. He wished Hermione had seen the magical creatures. . . or even Ginny.

Harry glanced at the door leading down to the common room. He wondered if Ginny was still reading by the fire and thought about her offer for Harry to . . . sit. He had to smile at that. He knew Ginny . . . well, fancied him when they’d been younger. In fact, certain events gave him the idea that she still did. He certainly didn’t see Ginny that way. However, she and Hermione had gotten very close and Harry liked Ginny just fine . . . And she was awake now as far as he knew and nobody else was. Harry didn’t necessarily want company, but the thought of spending the remainder of his night alone was not soothing. In fact, the somewhat settled feelings he’d felt when he’d seen the stag and the unicorn soar over the grounds were starting to diminish, leaving in it’s place traces of the familiar unsettled apprehension.

Harry climbed down the stone steps that lead into the common room. To his relief, Ginny was still sitting in the chair in front of the fireplace, the bright flames illuminating her face, the huge book open in her lap. Thinking it wise not to frighten her out of her wits again, Harry cleared his throat softly.

Ginny glanced up, her eyes distracted.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly.

“Hi,” she said, sitting up slightly.

“I was, er, wondering if your offer still stood.”

She looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned. “Oh. About the . . . sitting?”

Harry had to smile as her eyes glimmered in amusement at her own unusual choice of words. He nodded.

“Sure. Sit away,” she said with a smile and Harry found himself smiling as well.

Harry went over to the sofa that was kiddie corner from Ginny’s chair, the fire next to him. They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence while Ginny read her book and Harry stared into the fire and thought about the stag and the unicorn. After a while, he glanced out the window, which was right next to Ginny. He could see the sweeping grounds, the lake and the edge of the forest. He wondered if what he saw had been real or . . . or something else.

“Were you looking out the window a little while ago?” Harry asked Ginny suddenly.

Ginny looked up from her book. “What? The window? No, I didn’t . . . why?” she asked with traces of fear in her voice. “Did you see something out there?”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “I mean, nothing dangerous or anything. I saw . . .” he trailed off and looked out the window again. Had that been just a dream as well? No. No, it had been real; he had felt the ice-cold window pressed against his nose. “At the edge of the forest, I saw a unicorn.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “A unicorn? Really?”

Harry nodded and told her about the stag as well.

“Wow . . .” Ginny breathed. “I wished I’d have looked out the window, myself.”

“They were beautiful . . . really beautiful.“ Harry trailed off. Was it only he who could have seen them? He remembered for the second time that night, words of Professor Dumbledore. “You’re father is alive, Harry. He’s alive in you. Prongs rode again . . .” Had that stag been an offering of security and safety from his father? Had his mother wanted him to see something that would give him hope and innocence on a very dark night? Had they pranced around as creatures that stood for the very things Harry had been searching for all night?Or had they only been a unicorn and a stag, creatures belonging to the forest?

“What is it, Harry?” came Ginny’s small voice.

Harry looked at her and found that it wouldn’t be difficult to tell her. “My Dad was an Animagus,” he said quietly. “He turned into a stag when he would transform and I guess I just thought . . .” he looked out the window again. “In third year, when Hermione and I were being attacked by the Dementors, I saw him . . . as a stag. He charged down the Dementors.” Harry had to stop himself from revealing that it had been his future self who had conjured a Patronus which took the form of a stag when he and Hermione had to set time back to free Sirius. But he thought about it very hard before continuing. “When I saw that stag come out of the forest I thought that perhaps . . .”

Ginny watched him and thought about what he’d said. After a few moments, she turned to look out the window as well. “It must be comforting to know that you didn’t have to go looking for your mum and dad when you needed them,” she said softly. “They found you.”

Ginny’s words absorbed through him, making him feel so content that he smiled. In that moment he was incredibly happy he’d come down and not lay in bed thinking about things he had no control over. In that moment, something changed in his heart, something that wasn’t so tough to face.

Harry smiled with contentment and leaned back against the sofa, nodding. “It is comforting,” he said, laying his head back against the soft embroidered pillows that lined the sofa. Suddenly, he was very tired. “It really is.”

Ginny sat thinking for a long time before she closed the novel and stretched tiredly. “I think I’m off to bed-“ she started to say and looked at Harry. The site that met her eyes, made her young heart skip a beat. Messy black hair, glasses askew, Harry Potter was laying on the small sofa fast asleep.

Ginny sighed. After five years, her ridiculous crush on him hadn’t faded. She knew deep down that it wasn’t a ridiculous crush anymore. It had been ridiculous when she’d barely known him. But she couldn’t say that anymore. She knew Harry Potter, saw his heartache, and saw his troubles. Her blushing cheeks had been replaced with constant butterflies in her stomach every time he was near her. Awe of his defeat of Voldemort all those years ago had turned into a violent fear for his safety and watching him long for his parents tonight had broken her heart. Ginny knew that her feelings for Harry were real and true and not something that was young and foolish anymore.

Ginny sighed, wishing that he would see her as something more than Ron’s little sister. Perhaps someday he would. Right now she would focus on . . . she would focus on the right now. Ginny folded her arms over the arm of the sofa and laid her head down, watching Harry sleep. And if right now meant being there for him as a friend, then that was what she would do.

 

Morning of November 3^rd

James Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

“Budge up, there, Padfoot, your taking forever.”

“Go kiss Moaning Myrtle, Moony,” came a snapping retort.

Best friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were slowly climbing the steps to Gryffindor Tower, their plan an utter disaster. The “plan” had involved the torturing of one Severus Snape, a greasy-haired slimy wuss who deserved what they’d been planning to dish out. However the “plan” hadn’t turned out quite the way they’d intended. Sirius and Remus were supposed to meet James in front of the dungeon that lead to the Slytherin Common Room. But James had never shown up. It was now 3 am and James was still nowhere to be found. It had most definitely been a three-person job. Dangerous thrill-seekers that they were, Sirius and Remus could have improvised to the best of their capabilities without their apparent slacking friend. However they were missing one valuable prop that had been essential in “the plan.”

For one could not make things fly without being seen if one did not have some way to make oneself invisible. And making things fly around the room, down the halls and locking the following, confused victim in the dungeons would not work without being invisible. Even the most bold, daring, thrill-seekers did not have the means to make themselves invisible without some sort of aid. And James had the Invisibility Cloak wherever the dumb prat was.

So up to Gryffindor Tower it was, “the plan” squashed .

“Twinkle Toes,” muttered the two ragged fifteen-year-old boys in unison.

They were greeted with a tut-tut from the Fat Lady. “Three in the morning. Never in all my time at Hogwarts-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Sirius dully.

Remus climbed through the hole last and nearly bumped into Sirius who was standing in disbelief inside the common room. “Oh, man,” Sirius said, shaking his head miserably.

Sitting very closely on a nearby sofa were James and Lily Evans. Lily had her head on James shoulder and they were holding hands, both of them fast asleep.

Remus smiled. Sirius scowled. Then Remus held out his hand palm-up with a grin and Sirius grudgingly dug into his pockets, counted out five sickles and shoved them into his friend’s hand.

“I told you,” Remus said lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, you won, you don’t need to gloat about it.”

Remus smiled and looked at the two people sleeping on the couch.

“You’re being very calm about all of this, I must say,” Sirius said. “You place a bet that the reason James stood us up is because of some girl and you don’t even blink an eye.”

“That “some girl” happens to be one of your closest-,” Remus scolded.

“Aren’t you upset that we lost our best friend, Moony?”

“We didn’t lose-“

“Oh, yes we did,” Sirius said dramatically. “He’s gone for good.”

Remus rolled his eyes, then sighed. “Well . . . you know, he could have met us and told us to our faces that he didn’t want to do the plan tonight, come to it.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said bitterly. “Let’s get him back, shall we?”

They looked at each other and slow, sly grins appeared on their faces.

“You really want to go to all the trouble, Moony?” Sirius mocked.

“Naw, Padfoot, let’s just leave him alone. All alone.”

“You mean alone? What if they don’t wake up and everyone comes down to go to breakfast and they’re still laying there, all snuggled up and cute and everything?”

Remus sighed drastically. “I’m sure they will wake up before that.”

“Even if we wake everyone in Gryffindor by knocking on their doors at around five am?”

“Hmm. Yes, even then. All those people are bound to come down to the common room to see what the commotion is. But James and Lily would have already woken up, I’m sure,” Remus mocked, knowing full well that in two hours, James and Lily would still be sitting there fast asleep.

“Definitely.”

And the two boys walked up the spiral stone steps, grinning widely at the new “plan.”

 

 

Morning of November 3^rd,

Harry Potter’s fifth year at Hogwarts

 

The portrait hole opened at around three am, and two students stepped through, and entered the common room quietly as they could.

“Ouch! Ron, that’s the second time you stepped on my foot, tonight,” Hermione whispered fervently. “And the thirty-seventh time you’ve stepped on my foot for the last five years.”

“Wow, you kept track? I’m flattered.” Ron grinned, nudging her foot with his.

She smacked him on the arm, but grinned in spite of herself. “You’re right, this was a good idea,” she whispered as they walked through the common room.

“Of course I was right, I-“

Ron and Hermione both stopped in their tracks at the site that met them. Harry and Ginny were both fast asleep, Harry sprawled on a sofa, and Ginny curled in an armchair.

Hermione’s eyes shined with approval; Ron’s eyebrows shot up and stayed there.

“It looks like we’re not the only two who couldn’t sleep tonight,” Hermione whispered. She looked at Ron who looked very confused. She slid her arm through his and looked at him. “What is it?” she asked softly.

“I just… I don’t know…er… How do you think… this all came about?”

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “I dunno.”

“You don’t think.. I mean, that is to say, Harry and Ginny… I mean, we can’t jump to conclusions or anything, all they’re doing is sleeping. And all they’d probably been doing before hand was talking… just talking…” But even the image of Harry and Ginny talking alone, all alone, in the common room in the middle of the night made Ron wary, even if it seemed perfectly innocent.

“Ron, is it really that difficult to imagine?” Hermione asked, her eyes shining with irony.

“Yeah!” he said exasperating. But then he had to grin. It wasn’t as difficult to imagine as he and Hermione spending the entire evening laughing and even flirting with each other. And he could tell that Hermione was thinking the same thing. “I guess not.”

“Anyway, we don’t know the whole story.”

Ron was quite torn at what the whole story might be, but Hermione’s smile made it seem a bit more normal. “Let’s wake them up.”

Hermione went to Ginny and gently shook her awake, and Ron walked over to Harry and shook his arm. They both sat up groggily; Harry adjusted his glasses, and Ginny fixed her nightgown.

They reached the two staircases and mumbled “goodnight,” Harry and Ginny walking groggily, their eyes drooping. Harry stopped before heading up the stairs and turned to look at the girls. “Thanks, Ginny,” he called after her.

“Good night, Harry.”

“G’night,” he mumbled and climbed up the stairs.

Ron glanced wearily at Harry before turning back to Hermione who grinned at him in a reassuring sort of way. They both stood with their hands on their respective rails, Ron ready to follow Harry, Hermione ready to follow Ginny. Their eyes met, thinking about everything that had happened tonight from their chance meeting much earlier in the common room, to walking the halls of Hogwarts together, from conceivably discovering something about their best friends to discovering something about themselves. They shared a grin.

“Good night, Ron,” Hermione whispered.

“G’ Night, Hermione.”

 

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