Loose Screws

Chapter Four
The Empty Grove

They arrived at her house about an hour and a half later. The scenery was definitely different than that of the Burrow or number four, Privet Drive. 8428 Alcedonia Grove was a soft blue, two-story house covered in vines and surrounded by forestry. Very pretty, to say the least. The three of them got out the car, walking past a few towering trees and onto the vast porch. When Harry rang the doorbell, they almost immediately heard footsteps inside the house, which was soon accompanied by a voice.

"Who is it?" Hermione called from inside. Before they could answer, the door swung open (Harry guessed Hermione looked through the peephole). A look of relief came over her. There wasn't much chance to comment on the new glasses she was wearing.

"It’s about time you got here!" was the first thing that came out of her mouth. "I was getting worried you weren’t coming or that something happened..."

"No, Dad just forgot his wallet at home -" Ron was cut off when Hermione caught him in a hug. "Er…It’s good to see you, too, Herm…" he said awkwardly before she moved on to the others.

"You look different," commented Ron with narrowed eyes, as Harry struggled for air in her grasp.

"You mean the glasses?" she answered.

"Maybe…no, that's not it..."

"I got a hair cut," she said simply. Her hair now hung just above her shoulders and was noticeably more straight, less bushy. It was curled out in a way that, with her glasses, made her look like Wendy from some of Dudley's Where's Waldo? books.

"Since when have you had glasses, Hermione?" said Harry.

"Actually, I just got them a few days ago. Still itching my nose a bit."

She then helped them bring in their belongings from the car ("Shoes on the porch," she instructed. "My parents don’t want them on the carpet."). Ginny gasped as she entered the foyer and looked around her. "I love your house, Hermione," she complimented. "It’s huge!"

"It’s too big, if you ask me," she stated as she helped Ron set down his trunk. "I mean, it’s only my parents and I. We really don’t need all of this room."

Ginny ran up to the window that overlooked the terrain behind the house. "But just look at this view!" she continued. "A forest, a lake and a pool -"

"You can use it if you know how to swim," she offered. "Mum and Dad know how, but I don’t. I was always afraid of drowning." Harry nodded in agreement. Not that he was afraid of drowning - he probably would’ve known how if someone had taught him, but the Dursleys teach him to swim? Ha!

After they had finished unpacking their things, they waved goodbye to Mr. Weasley and Hermione was kind enough to give them a tour of the house.

"Okay, here," she said, referring to the impeccably clean room at the left of the foyer, "is the formal living room. Don't sit on the couches, don't touch anything. Don't even step on the carpet."

They walked into the area directly in front of the entrance. "This is the living room we're allowed to be in." Harry saw a small entertainment center with a TV and a stereo, a few couches, and a coffee table littered with several Muggle magazines and a recent issue of the Daily Prophet. She led them through the living room, past a half bathroom, and into a small room, decorated with several maps, a globe, and paintings from the likes of da Vinci, that adjoined the kitchen.

"And this," Hermione said, "is my favorite area of the house --"

"The study," finished Ron sarcastically. Hermione glared. "Very good, Ron," she replied stonily. "Anyway, this is our library, my desk..." Harry looked at her desk, which was also littered but with scrolls of parchment, a quill, and some empty bottles of ink. "And that's my favorite chair," she continued, walking up to a comfortable-looking armchair by the tall window and briefly sitting down. "This is where I do my reading."

Next, she showed them another small room behind the kitchen. She stood in the entrance, blocking the others out ("We can't go in there, either. Mum won't even let me in here."). And they could see why: the room was practically made of glass with all the candelabrums, crystals, and the chandelier.

They then backed out of that room into the kitchen, which contained an island, a gas-powered stove, and decorative herb and spice containers. Beside it was the informal dining room, where they could eat.

"Okay, moving on..." said Hermione, leading them out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs into a somewhat narrow hallway. Pictures of Hermione, her friends, and family lined the walls. Harry observed a much younger Hermione in a sailor suit and tried not to laugh. He saw a picture, from what Harry could tell, of her parents’ wedding day. In another, she was on the couch with a girl who somehow closely resembled Ginny, though in this picture, they didn't look any older than ten. Ron and Ginny eyed the photograph, as well as the others, suspiciously, the photographs not being animated like the ones they were used to in the wizarding world.

They first encountered a door on their left. "This is one of our extra bedrooms, which we use for a guest room sometimes." They then came to another room, this one on their right. "This is something like a billiard room, but we also use this as a guest bedroom sometimes because the couches fold out."

The door opposite of the billiard was open. "And this is my room," she explained as she reached out to close the door. "It's a bit of a mess at the moment. I was working on my Arithmancy homework: parchment everywhere."

She quickly concluded the tour with pointing out the last bits. There was one more room on the right, which was the toilet. The end of the hallway curved to the right, leading to the master bedroom. Done looking around the house, they all had lunch. Afterward, Hermione and Ginny settled in front of the TV, and Harry futilely played Ron at a game of Muggle chess in the billiard.

"I don't like this version of it," said Ron, who usually played with wizard chess sets. "They don't move on their own at all, and you can so easily cheat with this one."

"I could cheat all I wanted, but I'd still lose," remarked Harry. "Maybe not as fast, though. Check."

"You just need more practice, Harry. Check."

"I've been playing you for five years. How much practice do I need? Check."

"Well, you need to know not only what you're doing, but what they're doing."

"I do. I'm losing, you're winning."

"And that's another thing. You're so negative when you play, no energy whatsoever..." Harry stared flatly at Ron, who had not yet moved. "Your move, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes and moved. "Checkmate."

Harry lost a few more games before going downstairs with Ron and finding Hermione and Ginny on the couch. On the TV was some kind of dramatic soap opera was on, featuring a crying woman and rather confident-looking man.

"I thought you loved me," she wailed, burying her face in a pillow. "Just get out. Get out!" She then picked up a vase and threw it towards the man. It shattered as it hit the wall. After the dramatic zooming-in of the woman's face, Harry glanced at Ginny and Hermione. Both the girls were deeply immersed in the show. Ron, too, was watching the screen curiously, though not so much the show. "How do they do that?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry looked at him, puzzled. "Do what?"

"Live inside the box like that!" said Ron in sheer amazement. "It's not like the pictures; this has sound and everything!" Harry stifled laugh.

"They don't live in the box, Ron," answered Hermione during commercial. "They have these things called video cameras that record this stuff and show it again on the television."

"And a Muggle invented this?" queried Ron. "Perhaps Muggles deserve more credit than we give them."

"And these soap operas are really addictive," added Ginny. "It's like peering into other people's lives."

"Yes, Ginny, we all know how you like to peer into other people's lives -- ow!" exclaimed Ron as his sister struck him in the arm.

"I never figured you liked soap operas, Hermione," said Harry.

"I don't, really; there's just nothing to watch or do. In fact, I think I might go to the corner store at the petrol station. I'm out of coke; I need to get some more." She rose from her seat and stretched.

"With all the sugar involved?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't your parents dentists, Hermione?"

"They let me drink coke, as long as I brush regularly," she said defensively. "Come with?"

Hermione made sure she had enough for a six-pack of Coca-Cola before they all headed out the door. Harry was fairly surprised that she even let him out of the house, what with all the danger that could be lurking outdoors, waiting for him. It had become even a brighter day than it had been earlier, the blue sky almost completely void of clouds. They walked down the empty streets, passing only a few houses, each of them lofty Victorians.

"This neighborhood is, for the most part, deserted," said Hermione as they reached the store. "Mum said that when she was a child, this place had a lot more residents."

"Where'd they all go?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "As long as I've lived here, there were only a few families on my street. I used to have to invite my friends to my house after school to have some company."

When they reached the store, Hermione found the cokes in no time. Again, Ron and Ginny looked over their surroundings in suspicion. They curiously surveyed the sweets’ isle. Ginny looked at the candy bars.

"Snickers? Hershey’s? Milky Ways?"

Ron picked up a pack of Skittles, reading the slogan on the front. "Taste the rainbow?" he mumbled to himself. His fingers played indolently with the few silver Sickles in his pockets. Hermione grabbed the Skittles from him with her free hand.

"They don't accept wizard money," she said discreetly so that the merchant didn't hear. "I'll buy them."

"Thanks."

After Hermione had paid for the coke and the Skittles, they began to walk back to Alcedonia Grove. On the way, she pointed out another large, Victorian house, this one in ruins. A portion of the roof was missing. Some of the blackened walls appeared weak, threatening to fall. One wall was completely gone, giving away what looked like a kitchen and perhaps a living room, judging from the still intact fireplace. Harry couldn't really tell; it seemed pitch black from where he stood.

"My friends and I used to play over there all the time," said Hermione. "We would pretend that it was a fortress or we'd play house. Things of that sort. Some of the furniture is still there. I heard that a rich couple used to live there. Apparently, they were victims of an accidental fire. No one's really positive what happened to them. There’s a few more houses up that street like that one, too. I reckon that might be a reason so many people left; people who felt some kind of bad aura from it."

They stared curiously at the house for a few moments.

"Well, my parents should be home soon," said Hermione, glancing at her watch. "We should probably get going."

"Hermione!" The four of them of them turned to see a girl in the distance, her lengthy auburn hair billowing gently in the wind. She stood on a corner a few blocks away and waved at them enthusiastically. Harry peered at Ginny from the corner of his eye, making sure he wasn't seeing things. She was still there. The girl from the picture, Harry thought.

"Susie!" Hermione called back. The girl ran towards them. Harry could start to see a few differences between her and Ginny, who was taller and more freckled. They watched as she came closer and halted to a stop in front of them, trying desperately to catch her breath.

"I...hate...asthma..." she panted, slouching very heavily.

"Are you okay?" said Hermione, reaching out to help hold her up.

"I'll be fine," she said more steadily. She had now just seemed to notice the other three people who were standing there.

"Oh, hi, Harry..." she said, looking at Harry, surprised at his presence, "...and Ron, and...and..." Still dazed, she stopped and stared curiously at Ginny. Ginny had a similar look for her. "And wow," finished Susie finally. "I look a lot like you..."

"You all remember Susan Bones?" said Hermione. Ron and Harry nodded.

"Hufflepuff, right?" asked Harry.

"Right. I knew Hermione lived here, but I didn't know you three did," said Susan, nodding in their direction, eyes lingering on Ron.

"They don't," explained Hermione. "They're staying at my house for the summer."

"Oh, okay. Well, I have to go. I was on my break and it's right about over."

"Where do you work again?" asked Hermione.

"At the donut shop on the corner," she said, pointing to a small, pastel yellow store on the corner from where she came. "Come by one day; I'll give you a discount."

"Thanks."

"No prob." She started off on a jog back to the store. "Bye!"

"Bye!" they all said in response, but Ron had a slight disruption in the middle of his voice. Heads jerked toward him, seeing his skin tinged with red. He simply cleared his throat and said evenly, "What?"

When Hermione's parents came home that evening, they ordered pizza and gathered at the table. Mr. Granger was a tall and dark-haired man with pale blue eyes. Mrs. Granger, also tall and dark-haired, had light brown eyes and was fairly tanned. Both of her parents were dentists and apparently liked to tell tales from the workplace.

"I had to remove wisdom teeth today," Mrs. Granger was saying, as she ate her salad instead of the pizza. "The man who I was working on...well, he was drugged, of course, and he was completely out of it. And he kept trying to talk during the whole thing...he told me his whole life story, about his kids, about his wife, when he was a child. It was hilarious..." When they were all finished with dinner, Mrs. Granger washed the dishes, her husband went upstairs, and the rest of them began figuring out where to sleep.

"Well, either Ginny can share my room or you two can share a room," said Hermione. "Or you two can share the billiard and Ginny can have the other room." Ginny smiled, satisfied with the arrangement.

"How come she gets her own room?" said Ron testily. "Because she has more stuff than both me and Harry?" Ginny glared.

"No, because she needs more privacy than you two. Besides, the billiard has two pullout couches," replied Hermione.

"She does not," muttered Ron.

Before calling it a night, they started moving their things from downstairs into their rooms. Ron, who had already downed his Skittles and wasn't tired yet, was later digging in the entertainment system in the billiard.

"Ron, what are you doing?" said Harry as Hermione helped him pull out a bed.

"Looking for something to do," he said without looking up. He soon pulled something out of the cabinet. "What are these?"

"Game controllers," said Hermione, looking over his shoulder. "My cousin’s. He likes to play our N64 when he comes over."

"Your what?"

"It's a game console. You use it to play video games."

Harry and Hermione showed Ron how the Nintendo 64 worked. When they found some games in the cupboard, Harry and Ron stayed up half the night playing "Zelda." Hours later, when their eyelids grew heavy, they turned off the game. Ron cleared his throat.

"Um, Harry?" said Ron, somewhat timidly. Harry looked sideways at him.

"What?"

"Remember, in the car when you asked me if anything was new, and --"

"You said, 'sort of,' and Ginny told about the Ministry --"

"That's not..." trailed off Ron. "That's not what was new."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Really?"

Ron sighed inwardly. "Okay, I'll tell you," he said in a low voice, despite the emptiness of the room, "but you have to swear - not a word to Hermione."

Harry was very confused, but he nodded. "What is it?"

Ron sighed again. "Well, I think that I...er...like --"

I knew it! exclaimed Harry in his mind. It's about time he figured this out!

"-- Susan Bones."

...What?!

"What?" said Harry out loud, instantly regretting it.

"What's wrong with Susan?" said Ron defensively.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Harry said quickly. "It's just that...how…when?"

"On Platform 9 3/4," explained Ron. "After you and Hermione left. Her parents were running late, and she didn't...want to be left alone. So we waited with her, and we talked some, and...yeah."

"Okay…but why don't you want Hermione to know?"

Ron shook his head seriously. "Bad idea. I know that she won't tell anyone, but she'll be bugging me about it all year."

"Sort of like with Krum?" suggested Harry.

"Well...yeah," agreed Ron. "But really, you do have to admit that he is a bit...too old for her, don't you?"

As things quieted down, it was around 3:00 A.M. when they finally fell asleep on the pullout couches.

Harry woke up to find a middle-aged woman shaking him awake. He stared at her in complete confusion. She wore a polka-dotted dress and large, round glasses. Her jet-black hair was up in a tight bun and her lips were drawn tightly together, like his Transfiguration teacher. McGonagall?

He was in a completely different location than what he was in when he fell asleep. He stared at the ceiling. It appeared very high, similar to those at Hogwarts. But this place wasn't Hogwarts.

And he prepared to lift himself off of his bed, only he wasn't in his bed anymore. He sat up to reveal a long, wooden bench. His clothes had also changed, though not by much; they were still too big and appeared to be old, but they had a few patches on them. He also had a sack at his side filled with newspapers, the strap of it slinked around his neck.

And he looked around at his surroundings. It was a very fancy building. The walls of gray brick bared tall windows and sophisticated, still paintings. Near the glass doors was a long desk of some sort that stretched to the point before a corridor. A redheaded woman in a black dress sat behind it, reading a magazine. Harry turned his attention back to the woman in front of him, who was looking at him with worry.

"Are you okay?" she asked him gently.

"Professor McGonagall?" he tried.

The woman looked taken aback. "Pardon?" Harry didn't answer but continued to look around unsurely. Don't panic, Harry, he thought to himself.

"Listen, we appreciate you delivering papers to our residents," she said, "but I'm afraid I can't let you sleep here."

"Where am I?" he asked. Her worried expression deepened. "Oh, dear." She sighed. "You're at the Timberbrook Apartments. I suppose I could call someone for you?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. "Yes, actually. Could you look up the last name Granger?"

As the woman went to look up the name, Harry further examined his surroundings when a man entered the building. He was tall, young man with black hair and shadowy eyes. Harry recognized him instantly. But what scared him even more was that this man was dressed in a lab coat.

As his heart pounded in his chest, he involuntarily began to back himself towards the other end of the bench as the man approached. He flinched as the man asked him a seemingly innocent question.

"How much for a paper?" Harry simply sat there, struggling to catch his breath and keep his calm.

"Okay..." the man said slowly. "Look, why don't I just give you a pound and you can keep the change --"

"Tom...Riddle..." eventually panted Harry. Tom looked at him skeptically.

"Yes? Have we met?"

Harry laughed nervously, still backing himself into the wood. He began to reach for his wand - which wasn't there. He frantically patted down his robes.

"Are you alright? Can I help you with anything?" Harry paused. It was then that he realized that where he was wasn't only in a different place, but a different time. This couldn't have been 1995 when everyone had computers and technology. There wasn't one computer in sight. There weren't even elevators, and, from the sound of the floors above, few TV's. And although this was the same Tom Riddle he had seen before, it wouldn't have happened for at least a few decades. This Tom Riddle had no idea who Harry Potter was. At least he sincerely hoped so.

"What's today's date?" he asked carefully after swallowing the lump in his throat.

"January 28," replied Tom.

"Year?"

Tom stared. "It's 1950."

Harry's eyes widened. Tom couldn't be any older than twenty-five at that moment. What’s going on?

"Er...thanks," said Harry oddly. It felt strange to give thanks to a future madman who would later murder his parents, among others. Well, he was technically already a madman; by this time, he'd already killed at least four people.

"How did you know my name, if you don't mind me asking?" he asked before heading to his flat. Harry quickly made up an excuse.

"Er...the woman over there was talking about you," he said, pointing to the young woman reading the magazine. Tom turned back to Harry, eyebrows raised. "Really? What did she say?"

"She, uh...thinks you're handsome," said Harry awkwardly.

"She does?"

"Sure, if you like killers," he muttered under his breath.

"Come again?"

"Erm...She said you have looks that could kill."

The woman who was looking up the listings for "Granger" came back with an open book in her hands. Harry gave Tom his paper and he went over to the front desk where the young woman was sitting. As the middle-aged woman read the list of Grangers to see if any were familiar, Harry kept peeking at Tom out of the corner of his eye as Tom flirted with the young woman. Harry then spoke up to the middle-aged woman.

"You know what? I think I'm fine now. But thanks for your help...miss," he said, feeling it was appropriate to add the word "miss". "I think I just need to rest for a bit."

"I suppose I could let you do that," she said kindly, "as long as you don't fall asleep again." She smiled at him warmly and walked back into her office behind the desk. He stood up to move to another bench to get a better view at Tom and the young woman, who was giggling at his jokes and compliments. But before he made it there, his steps began to falter. As everything suddenly went black, he felt himself collapse onto the hard, cold floor.

*****************************************************************