Time Lost is Never Found

Ginny Weasley sat at the back of the quiet library, flipping through the pages of an old Potions book. The fifteen year old was the only one in the library on the cold Friday in November. The rest of the students were out and about, enjoying the beginning of the weekend. But yet, here Ginny sat, alone in the library, all because she couldn't stand facing Harry. Lately, the library had become her sanctuary.

Hugging her cloak tighter around herself with a sigh, Ginny thought about the fight she had had with Harry a mere hour before. Things weren't the same as before, they never could be, Ginny realized as she felt her eyes welling up with tears. She ran a hand through her thick red hair, pushing it out of her eyes. She never should have gotten involved with Harry in the first place. She should have just stayed his friend. But Harry had needed more than a friend, and Ginny was willing to oblige after so many years of waiting.

But you can't love someone without a soul. And that's what had happened to Harry. At the end of his fifth year, it was like the soul had been sucked out of him. He blamed himself for Sirius's death, and no one could convince himself otherwise. It was like he didn't even want to live anymore, the pain and guilt was weighing him down, dragging him down to hell. There were whispers all around the Hogwarts halls. Ginny couldn't pretend she didn't hear them anymore.

"He's back, you know."

"Who?"

"Voldemort!"

"Shhh, hear comes that Potter bloke. Don't let him hear you. I heard he went crazy!"

"Really?"

"Ten minutes until the library closes!"

Jolted from her silent reverie, Ginny flipped through a few pages, dreading having to go back to the Common Room in a few more minutes. A time slowing potion, a time freezing potion, a time rewinding potion...Ginny flipped back a few pages to the heading that had caught her attention. A time rewinding potion? Like going back in time? Ginny shook her head. No, she couldn't...could she? Go back and stop Sirius from getting killed. Everything would be back to normal. Harry would be himself and Ginny wouldn't have to avoid him.

No...This is crazy, a voice at the back of Ginny's head reminded her. You can't meddle with things like this. You can't change what happened, and if you try you'll only end up getting more people hurt. Ginny let out another sigh, realizing she was right. Besides, this potion was far too complicated for Ginny to do on her own, not to mention the ingredients she would have to sneak from Snape's private locker.

"Five minutes, Ginny," Madam Pince called from a few aisles back. Before she knew what she was doing, Ginny tore out the page from the book. Quickly, she folded it in half and shoved it in her cloak pocket. She shut the large book. Standing up and replacing it on the shelf, she felt nagging guilt in the back of her mind. Why had she done that? There was no way she could ever complete that spell. But still...maybe she could think of something. Ginny left the library feeling worse than she had before.

_________________

When Ginny stepped into the Common Room at midnight, it was empty except for a lone person sitting deep in thought in front of the fire.

"Ginny, thank God, you're back," Hermione Granger exclaimed, jumping out of the chair and grabbing Ginny's shoulders. "You've got to help me."

"What?" Ginny questioned worriedly. "What's wrong? Is someone hurt?"

"No," Hermione answered hurriedly. "Well, sort of...I mean, no, not physically...it's Harry."

"What happened?" Ginny could feel her heart sink as she wondered what could have possibly happened. "Is he alright?"

"No, Ginny. He went to bed!"

Ginny relaxed with a sigh. "Well, good. He needs some rest. Maybe he'll feel better."

"Ginny, he went to bed at 6:00. P.M! Ron thinks I'm crazy and should just let him be, but I can't. Not when he's like this. Not when he won't talk to me. Ginny, for the first time in my life, I'm out of ideas."

Ginny fingered the thin paper in her pocket. Hermione was a Potions whiz. She could have it done in an hour. But she had always been the voice of reason in the group, and there was no way she would let Ginny go through with something so dangerous...but she was desperate.

"Hermione, I do have one idea. If you're up for it..."

____________________

"No way!" Hermione hissed. "No way! You can't meddle with time! Not only that, you tore out a library page! You know how much trouble you could in for doing this? Harry's my friend, but if we some how changed the present, who knows what might have happened. Harry might not even exist!"

"We wouldn't be going back that far, 'Mione," Ginny explained. "A year and a half tops. Just back enough to stop Sirius from ever going to the Ministry last year!"

For a moment, Hermione seemed tempted. Ginny could tell she was desperate enough to try almost anything for Harry's sake, but as always she was worried about the consequences. Damn the consequences, Ginny though angrily to herself. Harry was more important.

"C'mon Hermione," Ginny prompted. "We can't just sit back and watch Harry waste away."

"Well..." Hermione started. "It would be hard. You know that right? It would take at least a week, getting it ready. And you can't let Harry or Ron know. Especially Ron. He would kill me."

Excitedly, Ginny hugged Hermione tightly. "You're doing the right thing you know." Ginny assured her. Hermione nodded slightly.

"I sure as hell hope so."

____________________

Draco Malfoy walked down the hallway next to Goyle, listening patiently to his idiotic ramblings. Or rather, not listening, just tuning him out. He had far more important things to worry about the moment. Such as his suddenly slipping grades and how angry his father was going to be when he received his report card in the mail. It would not be a pleasant summer. That was for sure.

Draco had a large distaste for the man he called his father. Nobody knew but the voice inside of his head; he knew it was important to keep up appearances. But he hated his father. He hated the way that Lucius treated him, like some servant boy born to do his bidding. He hated the way he had to control everything in Draco's life. What he wore, who his friends were, even his bloody girlfriend.

Of course, that department had gone uphill since Lucius had gotten into a bit of a row with Martin Parkinson and Draco's father ended up blowing up his left foot. Pansy had been quite a bit distant after that. Lucius forbid him to have any relations with her and that was just fine with Draco. She kissed like a vacuum cleaner trying to suck a bit of food out of his teeth and her breath smelt of cabbage and spoiled milk. All in all, that was the least of her hygiene problems.

As said, the choice for his next girlfriend was a bit better, but not by much. He might have mistaken Blaise Zabini for beautiful in his earlier years, but that was an opinion that he had rectified. Sure, she was outwardly beautiful: long black hair, blue eyes, pale with freckles littering her cheeks, and legs to die for. But Draco was surprised the tart hadn't done herself off yet. She was so cynical and depressing for Christ's sake. Always reading a book of poems that would make Edgar Allen Poe sit up in his grave and weep.

Draco didn't necessarily mind the poetry. At least Blaise could read; Pansy didn't even know how to spell "book". But then there were the constant lectures. The government was out to get them all, everyone is all on their own, fate's a bitch, life is just a bucket of muck, and on and on. It was all the same, all so depressing. Draco didn't understand it at all. Sure his life was one big bucket of muck, but there was no point whining about it. That would only make it ten times worse.

Not only was his love life a mess because of his father, but Lucius also disgusted Draco with the way that he treated his mother. He would hit her, yell at her, scream in her face if not everything was perfect. Of course, his father would act like the perfect gentleman in public, but Draco knew the truth.

When Draco was little, when his father drank a lot of fire whiskey, Narcissa would tell him that they were playing hide and seek. She would tell him to hide and he would for hours at a time. No matter what, his mother would say. He wasn't to come out until his mother came to find him. Not even when he heard the screaming and the hitting. Not until she came to find him...

"Draco, are you listening?" Goyle questioned, shaking Draco by the shoulder. Shaken out of his silent reverie, Draco looked up at him with a sneer. "Of course I was listening you giant buffoon. I was just thinking."

"Well, there's a first year out of bed down the hall," Goyle replied, pointing to a small brown haired boy at the end of the corridor. He was standing there, almost completely still, obviously lost. Draco grinned. It was time to have some fun with the little first year. One of the perks of being a prefect, toying with the underclassmen.

"You there!" Draco shouted, jolting the boy. He turned around, fear in his eyes as Draco and Goyle rushed down to where the boy stood. He looked as if he was ready to run for his life, but his feet were glued to the floor. "What are you doing out past midnight? What house are you in?"

"G-G-Gryffindor." The boy stuttered, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Well then, fifty points from Gryffindor and two detentions."

"No, please!" the boy cried, finally finding his voice. "I've lost my cat, I was just looking for him and I got lost-"

"No excuses," Draco snarled, enjoying the boy's agony.

"Please," the boy asked again. "My dad will kill me if I get a detention. He'll kill me."

"Too ba-" Draco started to say, but then stopped. He felt something churning in the bottom of his stomach, something he had never felt before. Was it...compassion? He couldn't tell, but he suddenly found himself sympathizing with the small boy. If he got detention, his own father would kill him as well. Before Draco realized what he was saying, the words had slipped out of his mouth.

"Alright, get back to bed. Up the stairs and to the left." The boy gave him a gracious smile and darted off up the stairs. Draco wondered what had just happened as Goyle stared down at him unbelievingly.

"What did you do that for?" he questioned, pointing at the empty stairwell the boy had disappeared through.

Draco shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe I'm just tired."

"Maybe," Goyle agreed. "Why don't you go to bed? I'll take the rest of the shift myself."

Draco nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe I should." Goyle pushed him off in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons and turned the corner while Draco trudged on dejectedly. Was he losing his stuff? Or was he being just like his father when he tormented the underclassmen? Draco lowered his head and started rubbing his temple. A migraine was starting to progress, soon his whole head would be pounding. He didn't think he would be able to sleep that night but then reconsidered. He could always ask Blaise to read him some of her recent poems. That would put him right to sleep for sure.

"...tomorrow night, Gin, just keep your pants on."

"I know, I'm just getting anxious. Do you think it will work?"

"Of course it will work! You just have to remember..."

Draco stopped where he was as two voices drifted through the hallway. He looked up and around, trying to pinpoint where it could be coming from. The Potions classroom? But who had been talking? The voices were soft, obviously female, but he couldn't tell who it was. Poking his head in the door of the classroom, Draco spotted two figures dressed in black, stirring something in a small cauldron.

"Wormwood," one demanded of the other. The taller one grabbed a box off of the top shelf of Snape's ingredients locker. But who was it? The shorter one pulled the hood of her cape down, exposing a mess of bushy brown hair.

"Granger," Draco muttered under his breath. What was she doing, going through Snape's things, making potions in the dead of night?

Hermione stopped stirring and looked up. "Did you hear something, Ginny?"

"No," the taller one stepped out of the dark and into the beam of moonlight illuminating the floor. She looked around anxiously, pulling her long, straight red hair into a ponytail. It always helped her think better when she did that. "It was nothing, just keep going, Herm. Where are we going to do it?"

"Astronomy Tower," the older girl informed the other. "It'll be empty and it's always unlocked. We need a place with moonlight. It's too risky to come down here two nights in a row."

The Astronomy Tower? Draco thought to himself. What were they getting at? What were they planning? Draco bit his fingernail while trying to decide what to do. He could either turn them in now for sneaking out, or wait until the next night when they would be breaking even more school rules. The punishment will be far more severe, Draco rationalized. Yes, he decided. He would wait; he would wait until tomorrow night and see what the stupid Gryffindor girls had planned. With a grin, Draco walked back down the hallway, feeling like himself again.