Turning Time

Chapter 7

BANG!

The next thing the five knew, there was a triple-decker bus, a vibrant shade of purple, which didn't come around a corner or just appear from coming down a long road toward where they stood. It had appeared with a bang out of nowhere, startling Callie, as much as she had expected it to come in such a manner. A sign of gold letters read The Knight Bus. It moved at what would seem light-speed, and it screeched to a stop right in front of where the group stood, and very quickly.

A skinny, pimply young man with rather large ears, that seemed to protrude from the sides of his head as if he were a monkey, came out onto the sidewalk and began to give his lecture. Callie knew him to be Stan Shunpike "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to--" Callie rolled her eyes.

"Callie Lupin!"

"Why does everyone know who I am?" she thought.

"Marianne Swanson," she said.

"No, you're not. You're the Miss Callista Lupin. Came on 'ere year ago with--"

"Disguise," Callie mouthed. "Continue," she said aloud.

"And...." Stan searched for the spot he'd left off. "And we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evenin'. 'Choo five doing here at this time of night?"

Callie was sure that if she had the nerve to be as discourteous as possible, she would have snapped, "Mind your own business! Why do you need to know?" for asking too many questions, but she simply said, "Dumbledore. Sent us."

"Ah," Stan said.

Callie caught sight of the stranger from inside the train station walking along the sidewalk rather nearby. "'Choo all waitin' for? Come on, get on." Callie gave her bag a good shove over her shoulder to secure it and boarded the bus. Stan helped the other four load their trunks onto the bus.

Callie was quite shocked when she came on. There weren't the chairs, all different shades of wood and colors for cushioning, terribly mismatched, that had been on the bus the one time she had come aboard the bus. Instead, there were a dozen brass bedsteads.

"Cal--er... Marianne," Stan said, about to say Callie's real name, responding so timidly to his mistake as if she would clobber him with a mace if he revealed who she was.

"Yes?" Callie asked and turned around to notice that Stan was rubbing his fingers as many people seemed to when discussing money. Thus, she decided he meant, "My money?" Callie reached into the front pocket of her bag, pulling out a small, leather pouch that contained money. She never really had much herself, but Dumbledore had promised to provide her with the money that the journey would require.

"Eleven sickles, I think? Each?" she asked to make sure she wasn't paying too much or too little. Stan nodded, so she pulled out the required money to drop into his open hand.

After Sirius gave Stan the location, he guided the five up to the second deck and they chose bedsteads, leaving three more open on that level. The boys sat rather close together, but Callie sat as far away from them as possible.

"I don't think she likes us very much..." Peter said.

The four boys sat down on their beds, not knowing what was in store for them.

There suddenly came another BANG, and the four boys were knocked backwards from force, James all the way over onto the other side of his bedstead, being so skinny and light.

Callie, on the other hand, had been pulling herself forward, putting such force into it that she fell flat onto her face in the opposite direction, digging her fingernails, just long enough to not break often, into the floorboards like a cat clinging onto a very fast-flying broomstick with claws for dear life.

When she got used to the speed, she rose up very slowly from the floor to look out the window. She saw that they were speeding down a road lined with vineyards. She realized that a journal had fallen onto the floor. It was her poetry journal. A page that was tearing out was visible. She read:

"I continue to strive for what I wish,

As the approaching dawn withers the mere thought

Of longing for flesh
Ever so slowly,

As it ought.

In three hours,
I shall have forgot-

ten that I longed for such
With a dreadful thirst.

I shall have been
Overcome with mirth.

That the wolf is gone
And replaced by
The average me
That appears when the moon wanes,
Disappearing when a moon-waxing is complete,
As the wolf brings me to defeat
And I am the moonlight's slave."

This was only part of one of the poems she had never shown to her father willingly, but he had found it when she had left the journal open on a table all the same. She had written it from the point of view of a werewolf, but she was always afraid of writing, drawing, or mentioning something that she thought might upset someone in the room, and most of her hunches turned out to be wrong. She always kept in mind that it couldn't hurt to be careful. She didn't want to go ahead with it and be frivolous. She considered it shyness and extra care. Some would have considered it fear or paranoia. The final line had always frightened her. To be a werewolf seemed like a terrible thing. He was so calm about it. She knew he was frightened about it, but was he so used to it that he had overcome his fear?

"You're my honeybunch, sugarplum, pumpyumpyumpkin. You're my sweetie pie. You're my cuppie cake, gumdr--" Sirius's voice suddenly came.

"Sam, stop. It's irritating... Really."

"JAMES! THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT!"

Callie's eyes shot up in surprise. "James?"

"What? I called him Jane, was all. It's just a joke..." Sirius laughed.

"I see," Callie said, opening the journal again. "I thought you said 'James,'" she said, seeming to be convinced that she was right.

"Why would I call him that?" Sirius asked.

Callie shrugged, and then looked between Sirius and James. They began to think she was figuring out who they were.

"You know, Jon, Jane... They're referred to as opposites sometimes..." she heard Sirius muttering, as if trying to make absolutely certain that she did not realize who they were.

She stuffed her journal back into her bag.

Callie held onto a post of the bedstead. As soon as the bus stopped again, both Peter and Sirius were thrown forward. "OUCH!" Sirius yelled.

"Who hit the floor first?" James said enthusiastically. "Did either of you see?"

Peter had already stood up when Callie took her bag and made her way around Sirius to go down to the first deck, being too irritated by him to help him. James stood up and helped Sirius from the floor.

Remus looked out the window at the Leaky Cauldron.

***

"So..." Callie said. "Supposedly Dumbledore's gotten a fireplace to the ministry in France connected to the Floo network." She'd gotten two rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, just to spend the rest of the night: one for the boys and one for her own privacy. She was exhausted from traveling so much, and she was sure that the others were as well. "We'll go tomorrow morning. I mean, in five hours. It's two o'clock." She yawned. "Good night," she said, strolling up the stairs, so tired that she had to boost herself up every one by holding on to the banister.

That night, none of them, exhausted completely, found any trouble getting their rest like they would have on the Knight Bus. Remus wondered why they even bothered putting bedsteads on the bus. It was impossible to sleep with a jolt, halt, and swerve every five minutes.

***

Remus was awoken by a knocking on the door the following morning. The other three were too lazy and brain-dead to answer the knocking, which didn't even awake Sirius, so Remus straightened out his hair and answered it. It was Tom the innkeeper. "One of you requested to be notified when it was seven o' clock, Mr. Lewis. Good morning."

"Oh," Remus said. "Must've been Marianne. Good morning, Sir."

Tom looked very confused. "Who? You mean Callie?"

"She's going by a different name. I'll wake the others. Well, thank you."

"My pleasure," Tom said heartily.

As soon as Remus had closed the door, he said in a raised voice, "Get up! All three of you! It's seven o'clock!"

"Ah, geeze, Moony, why d'you have to wake us..."

"Must be three o'clock... Don't remember sleeping very long..."

"I don't WANT TO wake up!"

James and Peter had a very different response to Remus's wake-up call from Sirius's rather rude, loud response, which sounded anything but tired.

***

Callie dressed in the same outfit she had worn the day before. She didn't have many clothes, and she didn't have very much money, so she didn't want to toss any outfits in for laundry before wearing them a fair few times. She always made sure whatever she wore had pockets so that she could carry her own wand with her. As well, she didn't even think there was enough time for laundry, as she would be leaving shortly.

"Well... So you're serious about this, then?" Darkness said in her head. "You're actually going to prove how stupid you are?" Callie ignored the voice. "You're stupid; just like your friends."

Callie had a barrier in standing up for her friends. She could have replied, "My friends are not stupid!" if Darkness were a solid being, threatening to hex Darkness or physically harm her if she didn't take it back and apologize. Only, when one talks to a voice in one's head, it is impossible to stage any threats in order to have one's way.

"You're going to die. Now think about it. Would you rather die and never return, or would you rather live? With me. Or you could surrender."

"Curse you," Callie thought, a snide voice in mind. "Only, I forgot. You can't be cursed. You're a voice."

"What can I say? Give in. If you don't give in, you could become engulfed in my power very gradually. If you give in, you can live like a normal werewolf. No worries. Some people might get hurt, but hey, you won't. If you banish me... Well, that's rather difficult, isn't it, now?"

"I'm not giving in!" Callie thought. "And if you think I'm about to, then you're just ignorant of the fact that I'm surrounded by idiots that try to persuade me all the time!"

"I could ensnare you... Make you destroy those you love... Then I could release you... And let you see what you've done... See that they perished because of you. What would you do then?"

"You couldn't! You don't have that kind of power!" Callie thought, fear suddenly trembling within her. She didn't want to hurt anyone. So, unless she could banish Darkness, she was doomed. She could put up a fight until she was unable to escape being horrendously evil, or she could surrender to the fight and be evil every now-and-then.

"You'd be amazed by the things I can do," the voice said.

"How would you know?"

"I think that I just might know you better than you do." Darkness cackled a high-pitched laughter. "Of course, you and I... we are the same... We are one carrier of darkness together. You'll have to learn to accept that."

"Anything..." Callie thought, closing her eyes as tightly as possible. "Let someone knock on the door... Let me stop thinking and start talking. Let anything happen..."

"Accept it," Darkness said, almost as soon as she heard a knocking on the door.

"Wish granted!" whispered Callie to herself victoriously in relief with a smile, heading for the door with her bag slung over a shoulder.

It was Remus. Not necessarily who she wanted to see, having mixed emotions about the certain occurrences of the night before.

"I suppose you called to have someone wake us around seven?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," Callie said. "Good morning to you, too," she laughed.

"Oh," he said. "Good morning."

"See you've been awake for a bit," he said, noticing that she was already dressed and had her bag.

"I have," she responded, stepping out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Maybe I should manage to get something to eat..." she muttered, waving a hand at Remus before walking away.

"Alright," Remus said, watching her until she was out of sight before seeing the progress of his closest friends.

***

"You have to eat something," Seamus was telling Kevin, "or you'll starve."

"I already know that," Kevin replied lazily.

"Hard to see that," came his reply.

Seamus looked across the room. "Got it!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Kevin!" he said joyfully. "A riddle!"

"Tell me," Kevin responded emotionlessly.

"Okay. This has seven letters. The poor have it, the wealthy need it, and if you eat it, you'll die."

Kevin was thinking hard as he swirled his fork in his eggs. Seamus said, "What's your guess?"

He didn't have a guess. He didn't know. "Nothing. I haven't got any id--"

"You're right! Nothing!" Seamus started howling with laughter, both Dean Thomas and Kevin watching him as he recovered from the joke.

"Don't think I didn't hear that!" Ron said indignantly from a little ways up the Gryffindor table. "I have some stuff of my own, and I'm poor!"

"And what would Callie think, anyhow?" Dean asked Seamus.

"You're really not helping, Dean, is he, Kevin?" Seamus said.

Kevin found it very irritating when Seamus tried to be a sensitive person. Half the time, he seemed to think of sensitivity as the knack of cracking jokes that were usually pointless and laughing uncontrollably until he was on the verge of death. He didn't see why Seamus couldn't just be himself all the time. Some people were sensitive and gentle, and some weren't. Seamus was one of those who were not. Seamus seemed to only want to be one of his best friends because Kevin was half-Irish, but it wasn't much compared to Seamus's being full Irish.

Draco Malfoy suddenly came into the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle, for some strange reason going between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, right down the middle, before he went to the far left of the room to go to the Slytherin table.

"Lupin must be mad!" he said in his drawl of disgust that made so many dislike him. Crabbe and Goyle laughed at this, but the laugh didn't sound genuine. They were obviously too mindless to know what was funny and what wasn't. "Who would go out of their way to help a friend like that? I mean, your own life is very important, isn't it?" Apparently, he'd come just to see how the Gryffindors would react--at least Kevin.

He happened to say this just as he passed Kevin. "Just because you're too much of a coward to do something like that," Kevin said before turning around, "and don't have the kindness to help a friend, it doesn't mean that you have to take it out on someone you know to be better than you who does."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all laughed at this. Not only could they force Callie to put up with them while she was around; they could rag on her while she wasn't around, and it was just as much fun for them.

"I suppose you want to go looking for Lupin so you can help her, Brooks," Malfoy sneered. "Then, you can get yourself killed, too."

Kevin frowned and turned around, and as Malfoy and his goons laughed and walked off, Kevin muttered, "But if only I could get you killed, Malfoy..."

Malfoy heard this, quietly as it was said.

"What did you say, Brooks?"

"Why does it matter, Malfoy?"

Harry had turned around to watch how Malfoy was treating Kevin to compare it to how he often treated Harry. Harry was about to stop Malfoy when Malfoy turned on him instead.

"Well, Potter?" Malfoy said. "If you're such a great hero, go after Lupin yourself. After all, if you can stand up for Longbottom--" Neville flinched. "--you can most certainly go after and save someone as worthless as Lupin."

"Well, Malfoy, I think she's capable of doing things herself," he said snidely. He suddenly got a mischievous smile as if he had just gotten a great idea for a prank. "But thanks for the comment about me being a 'great hero!' I never thought you'd realize it! And you have a better reason to go after a supposedly worthless person than me! I don't have to worry about being seen in public," he said, "with a mother who looks like she has dung under her nose. Why waste these great times doing absolutely nothing when you could be putting an end to such misery?"

"Wh--why you..." Malfoy stuttered. His hand trembled as it headed for his pocket. Harry felt as if Malfoy was about to get his wand out, so he rose from the table and walked toward the double doors that led out of the Great Hall.

"What kind of hero... What a coward!" Malfoy said. "Fleeing when he sees a sign of even slight danger!" He laughed. "Let's see... Does he really belong in Gryffindor? No, he'd be better suited off with the Hufflepuffs."

Chira turned around and looked at Malfoy, showing no emotion, half-upset. When he noticed this, he snapped, "What are you looking at, Wilder?" Chira turned back to her breakfast and set her sharp eyes on the food still left.