Old Parchment and Green Ink

Old Parchment & Green Ink

By lelalee83

Chapter Two: The Pumpkin Patch

*****

"Want to play a little Exploding Snap, Harry?" came Ron's tentative voice. He sat down across from his best friend, waving a stack of cards in a teasing manner. "I promise I won't singe your eyebrows off again."

Harry looked up, keeping his expression neutral. "Not really."

"Alright," said Ron. "How about a game of chess instead?"

"No. It's been a long day." Harry tried to look tired and faked a huge yawn. He rubbed his eyes and gave Ron a lazy, half-smile. "I don't feel like doing anything."

Ron nodded once, returning the smile. In his eyes, though, was worry. "Do you want me to leave you alone then?"

"If you don't mind."

Ron nodded again, rose to his feet, and then made his way back to Hermione, who had been staring at the two of them. He plopped down on the threadbare couch and threw an arm around her with a massive sigh, reaching for a bag of Jelly Worms with the other.

Harry quickly forced himself to look away, gazing into the fire instead.

A moment later, he was watching his friends from the corner of his eye. This is ridiculous, he thought, and stood up, preparing to head out of the dormitory. He didn't know where he would go, but anywhere was better than sitting here.

Harry grabbed his wand, shoved it in to his jeans pocket, and headed for the portrait hole.

He was unaware of Hermione's eyes on his back as he fled.

*****

The library was wonderfully empty, since it was Saturday evening, and silent as always. Harry was glad he was the only one there, besides the librarian Madam Pince; there would be no one staring open-mouthed at his scar or whispering not-so-quietly about him. At least now he could look up and not see Ron and Hermione staring passionately into one another's eyes.

He chose a table in the back, next to a window overlooking the dreary, darkening grounds, and sat down with a grateful sigh. The innumerable stacks of dusty, old books and towering shelves would obscure him from view if anyone came in.

Why should Ron get the girl anyway, he thought. It should be me! I'm the tragic hero. I'm the one that's suffered so much. Is a little happiness too much to ask? Harry wondered all this, scratching at a worn spot on the table. And then he slammed his fist onto the table as hard as he could, not caring whether or not Madam Pince heard.

*****

Draco was floating in nothingness. It was a strange experience. There was no sound, and he was conscious of his body moving backward, but then, quite abruptly it stopped. Slowly, his eyes began to focus. He was lying on his back on the ground, staring up at a perfectly clear blue sky.

Fear flared in his stomach. What had he been thinking? He had just jumped into a floating white light, going who knew where, after a Weasley no less! He was alone, as in no Crabbe and Goyle to protect him. Clearly the chill in the air had slowed his rational thinking. Spontaneity is not a positive character trait, he thought. Potter is proof of that.

Feeling came back to him, and it wasn't pleasant. Tiny, sharp rocks were digging into his back, and there was undoubtedly a very large and exceptionally jagged one beneath his head. Sound began to bombard his ears, and at first, it was like listening to someone scream underwater, but it grew in volume, becoming clearer and clearer with each passing second.

Weasley.

He tried to sit up, but his muscles weren't responding. All he could do was listen to her petrified screams.

And then they stopped.

*****

A sudden loud sound, as though someone had hit something very hard, echoed through the library just as Hermione walked in. Madam Pince quickly rose from her chair, frowning in the general direction of the noise.

"I'll check on the noise for you, if you like," Hermione said, hurrying towards the librarian's desk.

Madam Pince smiled warmly and sank back into her chair, adjusting her tiny spectacles on her beak-like nose. "Thank you, dear. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up today at all!"

Hermione turned and hurried in the direction of the loud noise. When she reached the very back of the library she found exactly what she had expected to find.

"Alright," she said, as quietly as she could while still sounding forceful. "You tell me right now what is wrong, Harry."

*****

It took several moments for Ginny to realise just what had happened, and several more before she remembered she had her wand. Still struggling, she snaked one hand down to her waistband, feeling for the grip of her wand. It wasn't there. She screamed again and again, hoping, praying, that someone would hear her.

Tom took out his own wand and pointed it at her. "Silencio!" He put it away again and dragged her towards the lake by her muddy cloak. It ripped away from her neck as he gripped it in his fist.

Ginny thought, for one horrifying moment, that he was going to drown her, and then the last thing she would see would be his blurred image shimmering through the water, smiling, mocking her. Instead, he pulled her to her feet by her hair, and then threw her away from him. She hit the rocky ground hard and tasted blood; the little pebbles cut into her cheek.

"You're from the future," Tom said simply. He withdrew his wand again and pointed it unwaveringly at her as she sat up, his familiar indigo eyes never leaving her face. He smiled, but it was the sort of smile that promised pain, suffering, and the precipice of death. With a downward slicing motion he released her from the spell and said, "Aren't you."

Ginny nodded slowly. "I am." Her voice was small and shaking uncontrollably. Where is my wand? Maybe it slid down my trouser leg and fell out while he was dragging me. Or maybe, she thought desperately, it's still there. Gradually, she moved one hand down her thigh, pretending to assess her leg for injuries. Bit by bit, she made her way down to her ankle, and felt her wand. It was stuck inside the hem.

Tom was still smiling. "The year now is 1945. What year have you come from?" He moved closer, lowering his wand slightly.

Ginny's mind was rapidly sifting through, and discarding, possible escape plans. If only he would look away for a moment, she thought. Then maybe I could free my wand and hex him. That might give me just enough time to make it to the castle. If not, then she would go as far as she could while screaming bloody murder before he caught her again. Someone had to hear her.

An expression of gleeful malice appeared on Tom's handsome face. "Perhaps with a little pain, you'll remember." He opened his mouth, but a strange sound, like someone screaming, bellowing, and growling all at the same time, caused him to instantly snap it shut again. His wand faltered.

Ginny took less than a second to jerk her trouser leg up, pull her wand free, and yell, "Stupefy!" Tom tried to shield himself, but the spell hit him in the face. He flew a little ways through the air and landed on his back with a loud thud, completely still.

Not waiting to see if he was out or not, Ginny scrambled to her feet and took off running, as fast as she could, towards the castle. She had never run so fast in her entire life, except maybe the time when her brothers had turned Ron's stuffed toy into a horrible, hairy black spider, and it had come after her. But she didn't want to think about that. Screaming at the top of her lungs for help, waving her arms about like a lunatic, Ginny ran.

And then someone tackled her from behind. With a scream dying in her throat, she again hit the ground hard.

*****

"There's nothing wrong," said Harry, giving a little laugh and hiding his reddening hand beneath the table. "I just came to finish that History of Magic essay on magical political parties Professor Binns gave us last week."

Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "Then where is your essay?"

There was complete silence for a moment. "I...uh...well, I forgot it." Harry gave another laugh, but his sheepish grin slid from his face as Hermione advanced on him. She didn't look amused.

"You're lying to me, Harry!" she cried, not bothering to keep her voice down anymore. She knew Madam Pince liked her best out of all the students anyway, and would never throw her out of the library. "Why have you been avoiding me and Ron?" She sat down across from him and folded her arms in an imposing manner. "I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me."

Harry leaned back in his chair with a small sigh. "I've just been tired lately, that's all."

"Why have you been tired?" pressed Hermione, her expression softening slightly. She reached across the table and placed her hand atop his.

With a shrug, Harry replied, "Bad dreams." He didn't sound very convincing, even to himself.

Hermione's expression hardened again, and she pulled her hand away. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. She looks exhausted, Harry thought, and wondered why. He desperately hoped it wasn't because of late night escapades with his other best friend. But then, he would know if Ron had been sneaking out, wouldn't he? He would have heard him. Stop it, he told himself. They can snog all night if they want to.

"Alright," Hermione said, sounding defeated. "I'm sure you have a good reason for not telling me what's been bothering you, and I've had my suspicions, but-"

"What suspicions have you had?" said Harry very suddenly.

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione replied, "I thought that after last June, when..." she trailed off, gesturing vaguely with her hand. "I thought you might be afraid to lose someone else you loved, so you pushed us away to keep from getting hurt again."

"Oh," said Harry softly, lowering his eyes.

"Or that you might be very depressed about...what happened," she continued, reaching across the table for his hand again. He stared down at her slender fingers intertwined with his larger ones.

"Oh," he said, while thinking, current tally of hand-grabs: two.

"Or," Hermione persisted, "that you might just be jealous of me and Ron."

Harry's head snapped up. "What?!" He pulled his hand away and hastily stuck it under the table, with his other hand, out of her reach. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Because you're lonely," said Hermione.

Harry stood up, feeling his face growing hot, and replied in an indignant tone, "I am not-"

Just then, Ron came running towards them, shouting at the top of his lungs. A very harassed looking Madam Pince was following closely behind. She managed to grab Ron by his collar and forcibly drag him away before he reached their table.

"No! I have to tell them! I have to tell them!"

Hermione rose from her seat, an expression of alarm frozen on her face.

"She's missing!" Ron cried as he was dragged away. "Ginny's missing! He kidnapped her! The slimy git kidnapped her!"

*****

Ginny tasted blood again, and felt it begin to dribble from the corner of her mouth. She struggled to get up, but her assailant had her pinned with his body weight. She could barely breathe. The hand holding her wand was crushed painfully beneath her and, try as she might, she couldn't pull it free. No one was coming to help her. Tom had her at his mercy.

"Don't scream when I get up."

Ginny started in surprise. That voice! It didn't belong to Tom! Vaguely thinking the voice sounded familiar, and wondering who this person was, she managed a muffled 'okay'. The suffocating weight lifted and she clambered unsteadily to her feet, her heart still beating like a trip hammer. She turned around.

"Malfoy?!" she said, taking a step back. "What are you doing here?" She remembered screaming for him to help her, just before Tom dragged her into the past, but she never expected him to follow. She instinctively raised her wand.

"I'm here to help you!" Draco whispered angrily, raising his empty hands up in front of himself, showing Ginny that he had no wand. He then pointed towards a patch of huge, bright orange pumpkins, and she recognised it as the future place of Hagrid's giant hut. "We can hide in there until he's gone. Come on!" He moved towards the pumpkins, but when she did not follow he stopped with an exasperated sigh. "Look, if you'd rather get hauled off again, fine. But if not, you had better follow me."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Ginny asked, lowering her wand just a bit.

"I healed your ankle, didn't I?"

Now her wand fell completely down to her side. "That was you?" she said, her mouth hanging open in obvious disbelief.

Draco grabbed her arm painfully and jerked her after him. "We can discuss that later, Weasley. When you're not in danger of being kidnapped!" He led her deep into the pumpkin patch, and when they had reached the middle, he fell to his knees and pulled her down with him. "We'll hide here until dark. I'm trusting that, since this is Hogwarts, there's a curfew."

"What happens if he does find us?" said Ginny, her eyes wide and fearful. She glanced around her, as though expecting Tom to jump out at them from behind a giant pumpkin any moment.

"Well, it's two against one isn't it?" Draco replied, sounding braver than he felt, and pulled his own wand from his trouser pocket.

*****

"What are you on about, Ron?" yelled Hermione. She and Harry were racing after him through the corridors at break-neck speed.

"Dean said Ginny's been gone for almost two hours, and then he said that Pansy Parkinson's been threatening to hex everybody, because Malfoy is missing too!" cried Ron, without slowing down.

"Where are you going?" said Harry. Other students stopped to stare at them as they sped by, narrowly missing collisions. "Ron, stop!"

"I have to tell Dumbledore! He can find her, I know he can!" cried Ron, his words drifting back to the other two as he ran. "And when he does, he'll find Malfoy too! That slimy, sodding bastard will go straight to Azkaban where he belongs!"

Finally, they had reached the statue of the stone gargoyle that blocked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Harry and Hermione were doubled over, trying to catch their breath.

"What's the password?" asked Ron, of no one in particular.

Harry knew it had to be some sort of sweet name, and he knew the name of just about every sweet there was, thanks to Ron, starting with Acid Pops and ending with Zooming Brooms (in seven soaringly good flavours!).

"Canary Cream," said a voice behind them, and they all turned around. It was Luna Lovegood. "I heard it from a Hufflepuff seventh year," she said with a shrug, tucking her stringy blond hair behind her ears. Ron whirled back around at the sound of the gargoyle hopping aside, and without another word raced up the winding staircase, taking the steps two at a time. "What's up?" asked Luna, directing her question at Harry.

"Ginny and Malfoy are missing," he said, motioning for Hermione to go on up the stairs ahead of him. "Ron reckons Malfoy kidnapped her."

"Here we are," said Hermione. They had reached the top of the staircase. The door into Dumbledore's office was wide open, and Ron was sitting in a chair before the Headmaster. Granted, he was on the edge and gripping the arms so tightly his fingers were chalk-white, but he was sitting nevertheless.

"What do you mean you knew this would happen?!"

*****

The sky was a mixture of crimson and coral all along the horizon, dotted here and there with a few lavender clouds. The air had grown cooler and the crickets had begun to sing a monotonous tune. And still Draco and Ginny waited.

It was then that Draco's stomach rumbled.

"Hungry, Malfoy?" said Ginny.

Draco looked at her coolly. "No."

With a roll of her eyes, Ginny crossed her dirt-streaked arms and leaned back against the massive pumpkin they were hiding behind. "How ironic then that you're surrounded by food."

"I don't like pumpkin," replied Draco with a disdainful sniff.

Ginny looked aghast. "You don't like pumpkin? What about pumpkin juice, or Pumpkin Pasties, or pumpkin pie?"

"What part of 'I don't like pumpkin' didn't you understand?" asked Draco, glaring at her. He poked her hard in the arm with his wand.

"Ow!" Ginny hissed, keeping her voice low. "Don't poke me!" And she jabbed him hard in the arm with her own wand.

Draco looked mutinous. "That really hurt!" He poked her again, in the exact same spot.

"I'm only returning the favour!" She raised her wand, preparing to jab him in the stomach with it, but he caught her wrist and roughly shoved her hand down into her lap.

"Don't do that again." His voice was sharp and cold, like a sliver of jagged, ice-coated glass.

Ginny shrugged, wondering if his words were supposed to frighten her. There was silence for a few minutes, and then she said quietly, "You really healed my ankle?"

"Yes."

She fell silent again. Finally, "Why?"

Silence.

"Well?"

Draco thought about it. He couldn't even seem to figure it out himself. He had approached her with the intention of doing her a little harm, maybe a Bat-Bogey Hex so she would know how it had felt. Or, he could've laughed at her and walked away, leaving her sitting in the mud and clutching her broken ankle. Yet he had done neither of those things. Maybe it was the fact that he could heal a worthless Weasley if he wanted, or leave her to catch pneumonia.

"Are you going to answer me?" pressed Ginny, fixing him with an impatient glare.

Draco sighed and turned away. "How about you shut up and let me ask the questions. First of all, where the hell are we? I know this is Hogwarts, but it's different."

"Because we're..." Ginny stopped.

"What? Spit it out, Weasley!"

Ginny frowned, her eyes narrowing. "We're in the year 1945, you rude, obnoxious prat!"

Draco still had his back to her, but his shoulders had stiffened. When he spoke, his voice was flat. "That thing we travelled through, what was it and how did it get there?"

Looking down at her feet and digging a bit in the rich, pungent earth, Ginny replied, "I had a Time-Turner, but I broke it. It must've created a portal or something."

"How do we get back? Let me guess, you don't know."

Ginny didn't answer.

"Look, it's dark enough now," said Draco, staring up at the twinkling stars and full moon. "I'm going to put a Disillusionment Charm on us, just in case."

Ginny didn't protest, vaguely wondering how he knew how to perform that spell as well as heal, and then he rapped her sharply on the top of her head. The sensation of cold, invisible rivulets of water coursed over her skin. She watched silently as Malfoy then performed the Charm on himself, blending in with the overlarge pumpkin behind him. She held in a laugh. Somehow it seemed funny to her that Malfoy should resemble a pumpkin, something he disliked

"Let's go." He stood up slowly, looked around, and then motioned for her to follow him.

"Where are we going?" asked Ginny, glancing apprehensively around her.

Draco sighed. "There's only one place we can go, Weasley."

"And where is that, Malfoy?"

"The Forbidden Forest."

*****

"I mean exactly what I said, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, adjusting his half-moon spectacles. He glanced up. "Ah. Harry, Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood, please come in."

The three filed inside and took seats around Ron, who paid them no attention. Instead, he was staring at Dumbledore as though he had finally gone completely mad.

"What's going on, Professor?" said Hermione, leaning forward in her chair.

Dumbledore sighed. "I knew that Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy would go missing eventually." He clasped his hands together on the desk before him. "The good news is that I know where they are."

"Where are they then?" shouted Ron, half-rising from his seat. "Where has Malfoy taken my sister?"

"Actually, it isn't where I'm afraid," replied the Headmaster, frowning slightly, "but when."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked just as confused as he did. Luna merely appeared highly interested. "I'm sorry, Professor, but we don't understand."

Dumbledore turned and looked at him. "Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy are still at Hogwarts, but not this one."

"Just tell me where the hell my sister is, you crazy old loon!" shouted Ron, gripping the edge of Dumbledore's desk and leaning across it.

"Ron!" hissed Hermione. She tried, unsuccessfully, to pull him back.

Dumbledore's expression was one of amusement. "Of course, of course," he said with a little laugh. "You will find your sister, and Mr. Malfoy, in 1945."

"What's 1945? Some kind of junior Death Eater camp or something?" said Ron, rounding on the others. "Where is it? How do I get there?"

Hermione fell back in her seat, her face blank, and her eyes wide. "He means the year 1945, Ron," she said. "How are we going to get there?"

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled in that annoying way all too familiar to Harry. "Funny you should ask, Miss Granger."