Time to Rewrite

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Chapter 4: Harry's Decision

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The ornate clock hanging in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor struck 6.30pm as Narcissa stared numbly at the doorway, waiting desperately for her husband's return. He had, of course, been unable to remain in the manor due to the heightened search efforts since his escape from Azkaban, and had taken to Apparating to varied far-flung destinations whilst allowing himself to be spotted briefly, just to throw everyone of the scent as to his actual whereabouts. The newspaper headlines had reflected these erratic movements: Death Eater Sighted in France - French Wizarding Authority Alerted...Malfoy Rumoured To Be Hiding in Poland...Muggle Witness 'Saw Man Disappear' in Jersey.... Anyone reading the papers would agree that he seemed to be everywhere - yet nowhere - when those who were trying to find him attempted to pinpoint his location.

Tonight was one of the occasions when Lucius would be visiting the Manor, albeit briefly. He had informed his wife that he would return to fire-call their son later that evening from the unregistered Floo point in the cellar of the building. To inform him of the plan. Narcissa grimaced. The plan. She felt as though she would be sick just thinking about it. If she could just talk to Lucius, reason with him...somehow dissuade him from using Draco in this manner.... Her lips trembled and she wrung her hands helplessly as her mind played over their earlier conversation.

"Control yourself."

"Control myself? He's my son! Our son! How can you do this?"

"We have been ordered...."

And that had been the final word.

Narcissa's lovely mouth twisted bitterly as a sick feeling entered her stomach. We have been ordered. And to think that she had believed her husband would value his family above the Dark Lord. A sob rose in her throat and hot tears pricked behind her eyelids. She twisted the cloth of her robes mindlessly. What a fool she had been. What a fool....

She wiped her eyes with a shaky hand and struggled to gather her thoughts, scolding herself mentally. She couldn't afford to go to pieces now. If she could just talk to Lucius.... She had to change his mind before he spoke to Draco...she just had to.

A jolt at the doorway startled her and moments later her husband entered the room. Narcissa sighed in relief and rose instantly, struggling to compose herself as he strode slowly towards her.

"Lucius," she started before he could speak, desperate to get a word in first. Her voice betrayed her anxiety.

The wizard approached her, rubbing his temple tiredly, a haunted look on his face. He held none of the haughty aloofness that usually defined his presence. Azkaban had certainly taken its toll. He held up a hand to silence her but Narcissa carried on.

"This has to stop, I won't have it! Draco can't do this, he's too young - "

"I won't listen to this," Lucius replied abruptly, his voice trembling slightly as he avoided her eyes.

"You - you can't let this happen! I won't let you!" Narcissa faltered. "I'll call Draco myself! I'll tell him not to - "

Lucius' head whipped upwards suddenly and his eyes flashed angrily. "YOU'LL DO NO SUCH THING!" he roared.

He impulsively gripped her wrists and held her tightly as Narcissa tried to struggle against him.

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It was a few minutes to seven as Draco returned to his room in the Slytherin quarters after the weekly evening revision session given to all seventh year students. He glanced around the room with satisfaction. He enjoyed having this room to himself - he had hated sharing a dormitory with the other students and had always longed for seventh year to arrive, when all students were allowed rooms of their own.

He sank into the chair by the fireplace and reflected on the past few days' events, mentally replaying his actions for the hundredth time to check if he had behaved exactly as he had been told to. Draco exhaled softly, nodding absently to himself as he rose from his seat. In line with his father's orders, he had changed nothing in his daily routine. Nothing could have alerted anyone that he was planning anything. Draco reflexively removed his robes and hung them neatly on the back of the wardrobe door - and paused. He had just exposed his forearms, which seemed to be shimmering lightly in the dim candlelight. He frowned a little and looked at his palms. He could still make out the faint, thread-like lines encircling the bases of his fingers where his father had traced his wand whilst uttering the incantation that afternoon when they had been speaking through the fireplace in the Slytherin common room.

At first he had been alarmed when his father had whispered the strange spell and traced his wand along Draco's arm - but then Lucius had explained what it was.

So that was what a binding felt like.

True, Draco didn't know much about bindings - only what he had read for an essay once - but his father had seemed quite unconcerned about it so it couldn't be anything harmful.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that his father would never hurt him.

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Seven o' clock that evening arrived, and as the sun slowly started its descent in the sky and threw its dying rays of light on the school walls, Harry ascended the familiar stone steps that lead towards Dumbledore's office. After a moment's hesitation he rapped lightly on the heavy door and seconds later a soft "Enter" welcomed him. He stepped gingerly beyond the doorway - and started slightly at the intimidating line up. Professors Snape, McGonagall, Trelawney and Dumbledore all immediately turned their attention towards him. Harry relaxed a little when he saw Professor Lupin seated by the fireplace, his weathered hands gripping a warm mug. He raised his head as Harry entered and gave him a small smile.

The office itself was just as Harry remembered it. Thick drapes hung from the ceiling at the windows and Dumbledore's trinkets rotated and hummed in their usual merry manner, contrasting sharply with the tense atmosphere in the room.

There was a definite air of anticipation, and it was instantly obvious to Harry that he had stepped in on an unfinished conversation. He was certain that they had been discussing him.

Dumbledore rose and addressed him kindly. "Please, have a seat," he offered, his arm outstretched towards a chair beside his desk.

"Thank you," Harry mumbled, and seated himself quickly. He stared up at the teachers before him, and it didn't escape his notice that a few of them were deliberately avoiding his eye.

Dumbledore sat once more and rested his elbows on the table, his hands clasped before him. He surveyed Harry over the top of his spectacles, and as Harry returned his gaze he noticed the way in which the candlelight highlighted the creases beneath the Headmaster's eyes and how tired-looking he appeared.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning," he said softly. "But first - " his eyes flicked towards the teachers briefly " - I trust you are already acquainted with all who are present? They are here at my request. And please rest assured that you may say anything in front of them that you would say to me alone."

"Yes," Harry replied politely.

"Excellent, then I shall proceed." Dumbledore fixed his gaze upon him once again. "Before I explain why you are here, however, I must ask you one more question." Dumbledore drew a short breath and looked directly into Harry's eyes. "Are you sure you saw your parents in the Mygrator?"

Harry felt the tension in the room increase in that split second and he was almost afraid to answer the question.

He did, however.

"Yes."

Professor Trelawney squeaked.

Dumbledore ignored her and continued, paying his utmost attention to Harry. "And did anything else change when you saw them?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. He was suddenly starting to feel very hot under all the scrutiny. "The colour changed. It became red and - and it started to swirl around."

Dumbledore nodded to himself, as if this was confirming something that he already knew.

"I explained to you what a Mygrator is yesterday - do you recall what I said?" he asked slowly.

Harry repeated what he had been told the day before and Dumbledore nodded.

"That is correct, Harry. The Mygrator I showed you is indeed yours, and the images you saw relate to your own past. The colour red, accompanied with the swirling movement you saw indicates angry feelings."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as comprehension suddenly dawned upon him. "Is that because they used to fight at school? But that's ok though, isn't it? I mean, they got together in the end, didn't they?" he protested. He looked at Remus for some support, but his father's old friend only managed a weak smile in return.

Dumbledore exhaled heavily and Harry was silent once more.

"I'm sure you are aware that you are weakening, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"I've just been a bit - a bit unwell, that's all...." Harry shifted uncomfortably, feeling everyone's eyes on him once more. "Everyone gets ill...."

"It has been going on for a long while, and at first I am sure you thought that it was little more than a short bout of ill health...but I'm afraid there is more to it than that. Your teachers had been noticing that your condition did not resolve, and I asked Professor Trelawney to look into the matter."

"There are many things that can cause a wizard or witch to weaken, Harry. Illness, curses, emotions...and the past."

Harry looked up. The past?

"I have come to believe that that is what is happening with you, the Headmaster went on."

The past? What?

"I - I'm sorry, I don't understand - " Harry started.

Dumbledore held up his hand. "You are not - and have not - been ill, Harry." He looked at the Gryffindor seriously. "Your weakness has not been because of an illness." He looked closely at the younger wizard before him. "Your past is being erased."

What? Harry did a double take. This was too much. He looked at Remus, fully expecting him to grin or wink or give some indication that this was all some kind of joke. But Remus didn't even look at him - he just held his head in his hands.

Dumbledore gave Harry time for this comment to sink in. He must have registered Harry's sceptical and somewhat bewildered expression for he continued to explain himself. "The present - the here and now - is not the only stretch of time that exists. Time is not static but forever evolving, moving along.... Just as the future is determined by the actions we make now, it is also possible for events in our past to suddenly change course and cause a threat to the present. This is what I believe is happening to you."

Harry sat back, a huge rush of confusion taking over him, trying to take in the enormity of it all. If anyone else had even suggested this to him he would have laughed in their face. But this was Dumbledore.... His lips trembled as he tried to comprehend just what he was telling him. "But how?" Harry croaked. "Who's doing it?" His eyes suddenly widened. "Is it - is it Voldemort?"

Profesor Trelawney screamed softly at the sound of The Dark Lord's name and dropped the teacup that she had been holding. It fell to the ground with a CRASH and Professor McGonagall glared at her impatiently, repairing the cup with a flick of her wand.

"No, I do not believe so," Dumbledore replied patiently. You are right to ask, of course. But no - magic itself cannot change the past, even magic from a wizard as powerful as he. We may never find out what the exact cause is."

"So - so what is it that's changing? In my past, I mean?" Even as the words left his mouth Harry registered how weird it sounded.

Harry noticed, in the corner of his vision, Snape fidgeting with his hands. He seemed restless, as though he wanted to say something but was holding back.

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Your father and mother never had a smooth relationship at school, but as you are aware, by some course of action they eventually fell in love, married, and of course had you. It now seems, however, that their relationship is far more volatile than ever before." His eyes darkened slightly. "Your mother has started to resent the fact that she is the only witch in an entirely Muggle family and has been shutting herself off from her classmates - your father included. As a result, the two of them are having increasingly angry exchanges - partly due to James' hot-headedness, and partly Lily's stubbornness." His expression saddened as he looked at Harry. His steady gaze rested upon him and for a few seconds he contemplated the dark haired wizard before speaking. "It is a very dangerous situation, Harry, because as you will be aware, none of us exists in isolation. If one small thing is changed, it has many repercussions. For instance, if they do not realise their love for one another before it is too late, then you of course would not be born." He allowed a minute for this to sink in. "That, I believe, is why you have been fading recently."

Harry felt numb with shock. His parents.... So it was them he had seen in the Mygrator....

But a few things didn't make sense to Harry. "But - but I feel fine now!" he protested.

"Because you have taken the restorative draught," Dumbledore gently reminded him.

"But every time Hermione and Ron and everyone else came to see me I was fine...." he added weakly.

"That was because you were given the potion immediately prior to having visitors."

Harry bit his lip. That was true. Why hadn't he seen it before? "So what are you saying?" he asked, his voice low.

Dumbledore stared at Harry intently. "The only way that this kind of a situation can be remedied is by travelling back to the time in question and correcting the events. I have researched the subject far and wide yet this, regrettably, remains the only course of action that has a hope of restoring the timeline to its original pattern. When a wizard's past is being threatened, the only definitive course of action that may be taken is to go back, and change it.

The room was silent for nearly a minute, during which everyone seemed to be looking at Harry.

He scratched his nose uncomfortably and shrugged. "Then I'll go back and change - "

Dumbledore exhaled heavily at this casual statement and looked at him intensely. "Time travel is extremely dangerous, Harry. Every single thing we do, every step we take - they all have enormous repercussions on the future. Do you understand what that means?" Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed darkly and he held Harry's gaze with such intensity that the younger wizard was quite alarmed. He had never seen him look so serious before.

"If one small thing changes," the Headmaster went on, "you may return to a future that is different to the one you left.... a future that may not even know who you are. Are you prepared to take that risk?"

Snape, who had remained silent throughout the entire course of the meeting so far, found it impossible to remain silent any longer. "Headmaster!" he interrupted in a strangled voice, his eyes flashing with something that Harry couldn't recognise. "Surely there must be some way - "

"Severus, please...." Dumbledore raised a tired hand to his head. Harry got the distinct impression that this was not the first time that they had debated this point.

"We haven't explored every possibility - " the dark-haired Potions Master continued, hurriedly, " - we just need more time - "

"There is none!" Dumbledore interrupted, this time more forcefully. And the tone of his voice signalled that it was the final word. "There is none...you know as well as I."

Harry's head started to spin. This was too much to take in. Time travel? Wasn't that a bit drastic? He remembered how Hermione had used a time-turner during their third year, but she had only gone back half a day at the most. Even the episode during which they had returned to the past to save Sirius and Buckbeak hadn't been much more than that. Harry felt a stab of sadness through his stomach at the memory of his Godfather. Sirius.... He still missed him so much. If he went back in time he would see him again. His heart lifted a little. See Sirius. And his parents.... Harry gulped and rubbed his eyes. This was a lot to take in. Some questions immediately sprung to the surface of his mind.

"Why didn't you tell me I might have to use that Mygrator when you showed me it yesterday?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. He heard Snape make an impatient noise somewhere to his left.

Dumbledore regarded Harry seriously. "I wanted you to have a chance to think about your feelings towards it before being told that your going back in time may be inevitable." He was silent for a few moments. When he spoke again his voice was gentler. "And what are your thoughts about it?"

Harry jolted a little. He had indeed thought about it. And actually, he didn't have many negative thoughts. After all, it wasn't as if he'd be trapped in the past forever....

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Meanwhile, Lucius and Narcissa stood opposite eachother, a hair's breadth apart, neither willing to back down. They could have stood like that for a whole minute, simply staring at one another, the blonde wizard still gripping his wife's wrists with his long slender fingers.

"There is no point in you speaking to Draco, or instructing him to disobey my orders," he finally spoke, "because I already fire-called him earlier today."

Narcissa shook her head, her eyes widening in horror. "No...no...." she mumbled.

Lucius tightened his jaw determinedly. "Yes."

"But how did you get him to even agree to this?" she demanded. The look that he gave her said it all. Narcissa gasped. "Oh my God - you didn't tell him, did you?" She yanked her arms free of his grasp and her hands flew to her mouth. "You didn't tell him that this is going to kill him, did you?"

Lucius whitened. He couldn't face her. He turned away, covering his eyes in shame.

"You coward! You couldn't tell your own son that you authorised his DEATH!"

Lucius started to shake.

"You have to tell him it's a mistake, please...." the witch pleaded desperately.

But Lucius was firm. "No."

"TELL HIM!" she screamed, now beside herself with despair. "Tell him the plan has changed - "

"I can't!" Lucius turned around angrily.

"Why? WHY?"

He refused to answer her.

"WHY?" she screamed.

"There is no use in changing the plan, because...because he has been bound," he whispered without meeting her eyes.

Narcissa felt the blood drain out of her veins. She stood still as if she had been slapped. "Bound?" she repeated weakly. Her voice caught in her throat and she stared at Lucius in disbelief. But her expression soon turned to one of pure hatred.

"You - you bound your own son?"

This single revelation caused Narcissa to become hysterical. Without warning she suddenly lunged at him, her hands clenched into fists, and lashed out wildly. Lucius jumped backwards and tried to restrain her but she clawed roughly at his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

In a fit of anger she withdrew her wand and before she knew what she was doing she pointed it straight at his heart.

"AVAD - "

But Lucius was too quick for her. Without realising what he was doing he reflexively mirrored the curse. The magical energy generated by the explosion of green light that leapt from his wand was powerful enough to extinguish every lamp in Malfoy Manor. The room was plunged into darkness.

Narcissa was dead before she hit the floor.

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Harry stared into Dumbledore's clear blue eyes and thought for a long moment, his head practically bursting with the possibilities.

"If I did go back..." he asked, his voice rising slightly, "...how long would I be there for?"

"I couldn't say. A week, maybe more...." Albus sighed. "I can't be certain how long it would take...."

Harry hardly heard the words, however. His heart raced at the idea of seeing his parents and actually being able to talk to them. Talk to his parents.... Ask his father what his favourite Quidditch team was, ask his mum about - about everything.... Harry's head swam with the possibilities. This was a huge risk, but at the same time it was a huge opportunity. He'd be a fool not to take it....

Harry raised his head and looked at each of the group in turn. He found that his hands were trembling slightly but he ignored them and instead lifted his chin determinedly.

He turned towards Dumbledore.

"I'll do it."

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Hello! I'd just like to thank you for reading so far. I hope this whole process hasn't been too long drawn out! I'd welcome any thoughts. I know it took me four whole chapters to get up to this point, and some people may have lost interest by now, but I suppose I didn't just want it to be like:

Dumbledore: "Harry, you have to go back in time."

Harry: "Ok."