The Time-Turner Chronicles

Chapter 14

Letters From The Past

Harry looked at Dumbledore thoughtfully before he spoke. "I understand your reasons, Professor, for sending us to the past. But nonetheless... after what happened in our fifth year," he gulped as the thought of Sirius blurred his sight a little, tears prickling in his eyes, "well, I expected you to be more honest about the truth." Nobody spoke a word after his accusation, but Harry could feel the secret accordance coming from Hermione, Ron, and even Draco, although he barely knew about the events in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore continued gazing directly into Harry's eyes through his half-moon spectacles, but remained silent. "At least we know the reasons for all of this now," Harry continued in a low voice, feeling disappointed at Dumbledore's lack of emotion or perhaps because he had been hoping for Dumbledore to argue and give them a proper justification. "But can you also tell us how exactly you managed to set it up?"

"Yes," Draco agreed. "That would be more than appreciated."

~

Albus Dumbledore looked at Narcissa for a few more moments and then sat back down behind his desk, brow furrowed, deep in thought. Narcissa Malfoy caught herself holding her breath in anticipation and smiled inwardly. It had been the right thing to do. She had been right in coming here. Andromeda would have done the same thing. Narcissa noticed that she was feeling a lot more peaceful than she had in a long time, as if telling Dumbledore about everything would already solve the problem.

'Well,' she thought. 'It does not solve the problem yet, but it is the first step towards the end of the Dark Lord.'

Finally, Dumbledore snapped out of his daze. "Narcissa," he said. "I thank you for coming to me with this information. I have been suspecting it for a while, but I had nearly forgotten about those events.... Now, what we must do, is form a plan. Draco and Harry must find a way to go back to the past - and they must go together."

Narcissa nodded. "We will be needing a Time-Turner. That is the way they came to us twenty-three years ago." She paused, a question she had wanted to ask for a while coming back to her mind. "Professor?"

"Yes, Narcissa?"

"How did they go back for twenty-three years? A Time-Turner only has the power to go back a few hours."

"That is true, but they had charmed it. As far as I can remember, a Reinforcement Charm," Dumbledore spoke. "Hermione Granger performed it, of course..."

"Oh," Narcissa said.

"Yes, a fairly clever idea... now let us think... Harry and Draco are enemies - we will have problems getting them to work together, yet they did in the past... and we cannot tell them what their task is or what the reasons are either. There is too much at risk - they absolutely are not allowed to change the future in any way..."

Narcissa stayed quiet, observing Dumbledore through her dark lashes. He had got up and was pacing the room slowly. Soon he had pulled out a Pensieve and kept adding thoughts to it, silvery threads, like spiderwebs. Narcissa tore her gaze from the old headmaster and looked around the room. Little had changed since her student days... The portrait of Phineas Nigellus winked at her, but she barely smiled back, remembering all the portrait stood for...pure-blood...Muggleborn...racist, that was all it was...and in her mind a picture of a broken, rotten family. She thought back to the events of that day, so long ago...how she had awoken that morning, feeling a strange uneasiness that had clung to her all day, no matter in which class she had sat, no matter what she had been doing. Until she was at her usual seat in the Divination classroom, gazing into an orb...until she saw herself, next to a blond boy, until she saw the fine silver bracelet around his arm, with the delicate imprint, reading, quite simply, 'Draco'. Narcissa shook herself, and remembered how that fleeting image had vanished, and--not a second later--she had left the classroom in a rush, running down the corridors, a sixteen-year-old, searching for somebody she thought she had to meet right then, handling upon instinct... She didn't want to know what would have happened, had she decided to ignore the calls of fate. She'd rather not know.

Dumbledore started to speak again, bringing her thoughts back to the task at hand abruptly. "Two things: Firstly, we need to ensure they come by a Time-Turner. And secondly, I think it is easiest if Draco knows at least a little of the proceedings. He will have to track the famous Trio as often as he can... I will set them to go back to the past at a specific time if all fails, but if they do it from their own accord, Draco must be with them."

~

Professor Dumbledore looked at the four students glaring at him from their seats carefully. The truth. Yes, it had been a hard decision not to tell them. Especially not to tell Harry... he had known before anything had even happened that Harry would hate him for this decision. And here he was, facing the outcome, knowing that Harry was mad at him. And for the first time in ages, Albus Dumbledore felt so... weary. Weary of life, weary of war... so very, very weary. Hopefully, all would be ended in a few months time... finally, peace at last.

"I am sorry," the headmaster said openly, although he doubted his words would have much effect. "I am sorry I could not tell you before." Dumbledore sighed. Draco's words echoed in his mind... We are not figures on a chessboard you can place and sacrifice at will... that was exactly what Harry thought of him... Harry thought that nothing mattered to Dumbledore except the downfall of Voldemort and that he would willingly sacrifice people to see Voldemort's days end.... The headmaster shook his head, riding himself from those thoughts and forced himself to continue. "Narcissa and I formed a plan straight away. I let Hermione come by the Time-Turner..."

"I always wondered... I found it in my room at Easter. There was no note with it, nothing," Hermione mumbled, her eyes fixed on her hands that were folded in her lap, looking very guilty indeed.

"Why did you never tell us?" Ron demanded at once, his ears turning distinctively red as he flashed her an angry glare. "We tell you everything-"

"Ron, just let it be-" Harry tried to silence him. He really was not in the mood for their bickering.

"No, I really want to understand this. Why didn't you tell us? It could have been a trap like Riddle's diary for all you know, Hermione! I can't believe you could be so... so..."

"So what, exactly?" Hermione snapped back, getting angry herself.

"Selfish, that's what!"

"Selfish?" Hermione spluttered, looking at him in disbelief.

"Yes, selfish! You kept that little Time-Turner well to yourself, didn't you, Hermione? A few extra hours of studying, I guess? To make sure you would really be top of every single class?"

"Ron - stop it, please," Harry interrupted, seeing red when his friends started fighting. He felt a little guilty himself, thinking along the same lines not that long ago when he had discovered Hermione having the Time-Turner, but hearing it out loud from Ron suddenly made everything ten times worse.

Ron glared at Harry in turn, as if was his fault Hermione had not told them. "Just be quiet, Ron," Harry repeated. "I do suppose you remember the Firebolt in third year? It was exactly the same situation."

"Yeah, but there was nothing wrong with-"

"There was nothing wrong with the Time-Turner either. And now please, for heaven's sake, stop arguing!" Harry said exasparatedly.

Draco snickered, but didn't comment. For a while, nobody spoke until Dumbledore went on with his explanation, Ron and Hermione not looking at each other anymore, both fuming at what the other had said and done (or in Hermione's case not done) and staring straight ahead of them, Harry sitting in the middle.

"Then, Draco was told about the plan to a minimum extent..."

"Well, actually, I hadn't been told anything, really," Draco said. "Mother only told me that if I didn't go back in time with Harry, it would probably result in her - and Harry's mother's - death. She advised me to follow him as often as I could."

"It was a lucky thing you were on their heels yesterday evening," Dumbledore said. "Narcissa and I had planned for us to nearly force-send you back in time in approximately a week. All was ready and set up. But then you - amazingly enough - made the trip yourselves."

"Fred and George's present triggered the whole action," Harry said. "They gave me a crystal ball and I... uhm... I saw Hermione with a Time-Turner. I confronted her with the issue and then we went to a deserted classroom, she charmed it..."

"Mr Ferret burst in-"

"Draco burst in," Harry corrected Ron, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"And we all went spinning back in time," Draco finished the sentence merrily. "What a tale - nearly worthy of being featured in Hogwarts: A History."

"Actually," Hermione said, "a lot of these kind of stories are featured in it. The attack of Lord Voldemort we experienced ourselves in the past for instance is mentioned, though not very detailed. One would think-"

"Hermione - shut up," Harry and Ron groaned.

Dumbledore's mouth twitched in amusement, but he did not reply. Draco, however, was looking at Hermione with big, round eyes. "You've read Hogwarts: A History?" he asked in awe.

"Uhm... yes, why?" Hermione answered, looking confused.

"Really?"

"Err... yes..."

"Wow... It's just... well... you're the first person I've met - apart from myself - who has read it."

At this, Harry and Ron snorted and even Dumbledore looked as if he was fighting to hold back a chuckle.

"Though, of course, I should have expected it," Draco mumbled.

Just at that moment, a burst of flames over Fawkes's up-to-then empty perch made them jump. Sobering up, Harry watched Dumbledore rise from his seat quickly as Fawkes suddenly appeared, streching his gold and red wings in the dim evening light of the headmaster's office. The phoenix let out a low shriek as Dumbledore caressed his feathery head with his thumb and took the bird's burden - a very thick letter, nearly a little package. Dumbledore opened the seal, reading a thin slip of parchment as he walked back to his desk, a small smile spreading on his face.

"Are there any other questions?" he then asked as he sat back down at his desk, not saying anything about the letter Fawkes had brought. "Harry, we will be starting to train your new ability as soon as possible, preferably already next week."

"I have Quidditch practice on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday though, and the DA meetings are normally on Thursdays," Harry said.

"Then we will meet on Friday afternoon, if that is alright. I believe you don't have any classes then," Dumbledore said.

"No, Friday afternoons are class-free," Harry replied.

"Shall we say two o'clock, my office then?"

Harry nodded.

"So be it," Dumbledore said. He looked at all four students in front of him carefully again. "No questions?" They all shook their heads. "Still, if there is anything that troubles you, you know where to find me. Again, I want to apologize for the ordeal you have all been through. I want you to know that I would never endanger your lives purposedly, but it is my belief that these threatening situations will arise more and more often - to hopefully finally come to an end before long. Your burden, Harry, is never going to become less heavy and painful until the day Lord Voldemort is finally defeated... but we are all here to help you carry it, as well as we possibly can. And before you go, let me give these to you..." Dumbledore said, pulling out several more letters from the envelope Fawkes had brought him. "They come from the past... I am sure you know what I am talking about."

~

"Hermione?"

"Mmmm..."

"Who are yours from?" Harry asked.

They were back in Gryffindor common room after biding goodbye to Draco who went off to his own common room after leaving Dumbledore's office. Harry, Ron and Hermione were now sitting in front of the orange-glowing fire, each reading their own letters. The room was empty except for them; it was well past midnight and everybody had already retreated to their dormitories. Harry cast another glance at Hermione, who was curled up in her favourite armchair, totally absorbed in a letter she had had the time to read about a hundred times up to now and still so transfixed that she didn't really hear his question. He sighed, looking over at Ron who was gazing into the low-burning flames. A log crumbled to ashes as he poked around in the fire, lying on the hearthrug, a dazed look upon his face.

"What Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked, looking up from her letter.

"I was just wondering who you got letters from."

"Oh," Hermione said, blushing a little. "Sirius. And, well, James."

Harry nodded earnestly before asking, "So that's why you've taken half an hour to read them?"

Hermione blushed even deeper crimson, which was emphasised by the dim light even more. "Err... no... just... uhm... well, siuslerealiong," she muttered.

Ron laughed, snapping out of his daze. "Sorry, Hermione? You were mumbling a bit too quickly there for us to understand it all."

Harry grinned as Hermione threw Ron a filthy look. "I was only saying that Sirius's letter is really... uhm, long," she finished lamely, the diginity she had shown at the beginning of the sentence fading. "Your letters, Ron?" she then asked.

"Same as you," Ron yawned, streching. "Sirius and James. We didn't have any contact with anybody else, you know."

Hermione frowned and looked at Harry who was making a neat little pile of all of his letters. "And you?" she asked.

"Well, everyone," Harry said. "Dumbledore told Lily, James and Sirius about - about me... so their letters are - well, let's say interesting. But as they were all mind-wiped anyway, they can't remember not to marry each other or to kill Pettigrew before it's too late," he sighed. "I also got one from the Nelster twins - the Ravenclaws, that is - then from Kat and Aaron, the two Hufflepuffs. Well, and Narcissa. No, Ron, her letter is perfectly civilized," Harry said, answering a question Ron hadn't even asked, but had definitely been thinking about because his ears were glowing red again. "Just because she's a Malfoy - by marriage, I may add - doesn't mean she's like her husband."

Hermione nodded and looked back down at her letter. Nearly at once, her traits softened and a dreamy look appeared on her face. Harry grinned at Ron, who already had an evil smile playing on his lips.

"Hermione," he asked. "Don't you want to read out what Sirius is writing about?"

~

Harry nearly laughed out loud as he realised he was grinning stupidly into the dark of their dormitory. He was just replaying the last ten minutes in his head. After Ron had asked Hermione to read her letter out, she had firstly blushed furiously again, then insulted him and started throwing cushions at both of them before declaring in a huffy voice that she was going to her room. Ron had whispered to Harry that Hermione would probably have a fun night with the letter (as Head Girl, she had her own room and didn't have to share a dormitory with the other girls), when Hermione had turned on her heel and yelled "I heard that Ronald Weasley!" before hurtling a Bat-Bogey Hex at him, but they had both ducked and she had missed, stomping up to her room angrily.

Somehow, Harry felt much better than he had in ages. Narcissa Malfoy's vision had made his burden a lot lighter - now there actually was hope he could defeat Voldemort. He would be starting lessons to control the power soon and found himself actually looking forward to them. He had come to a curious friendship with his old enemy Draco Malfoy and it pleased him not having to put most of his energy into hating Malfoy. And although he hadn't accomplished his task to save his parents and Sirius, he had at least seen them again... and he had their letters. He nearly laughed again, as he remembered some of the lines James had written.

YES! You are the living proof that I will get Lily Evans to go out with me one day! Ha! Ahahahahaha! Sirius is not happy about it at all; he's actually shooting annoyed glances at me all the time. Not because he likes Lily, but because I'm getting what I want! Coming to think about it, Lily's throwing me disgusted looks as well. Lucky thing she'll get mind-wiped, because she probably hates me right now. Wonder if I should ask her for a kiss before the Memory Charms?

Other than that, the letters of James, Lily and Sirius had been really... well, he didn't know how to say it. They just were like little treasures to him. Lily kept writing that she couldn't imagine a father like James could produce such a wonderful boy; James said that Dumbledore had told him he was a good Quidditch player and that he got into loads of dangerous situations which was a true sign of a Marauder; Sirius told Harry to get into loads of mischief, prank Snape and keep an eye on Hermione. Harry let out a snort, thinking of the way Hermione had been reading the letter Sirius had written. He didn't really mind her kissing his godfather (well, looking at it this way, it did sound rather horrible), but he had a distinct impression that Ron did. However, Ron was in a much better mood now that the competition had gone, Harry thought, a smile playing on his lips.

He pulled his sheets up a little higher and snuggled into his bed as his hand checked for the letters under his pillow reassuringly. They were still there. Obviously. His fingers clasped around the pieces of parchment as he closed his eyes, tiredness taking over him.

It really wasn't all as bad as it had looked just a day ago. He would defeat Lord Voldemort and then hopefully live peacefully. He found that he wasn't even really mad at Dumbledore anymore. Well, that had to be a good sign.

Harry yawned heartily, and, listening to the wind howling around the castle walls, fell asleep almost immediately, a grin still plastered on his face.

He hadn't fallen asleep, happy like that, in a long time.

Epilogue

Seven months later

Harry drowned his bottle of butterbeer with a sigh. Tonight was the night, so to speak. Today was it. He was eighteen years old, and now, tonight, one single event would change the course of his life and the life of so many people, the course of history. Harry smiled, thinking about it. It was a weird feeling. And a huge responsibility; he had the world in his hand. About an hour ago, Snape had left to go to a Death Eater meeting with Lord Voldemort--and soon, Harry and the members of the Order would be Apparating to the site, and the battle would begin. Harry shook himself and started peeling the label off the bottle to distract himself, when the door opened.

"Ready?" Hermione asked as she flopped down opposite him, looking distinctively pale, underneath her optimistic mask.

It was a few days before New Year, and the wind was howling outside the ancient house at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, bringing along cold weather, snow and ice on the streets.

"As ready as I ever will be," Harry replied, tracing the lines on the wooden table absent-mindedly with his finger. "Half an hour to go."

Hermione nodded fervently, searching for his gaze, but Harry did not look up. She sighed as she continued. "Ron is sitting upstairs in your bedroom staring at the wall. He's taking it even worse than you."

"It's weird, I suppose," Harry said, not sure how to explain what he meant.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I know what you mean. We've been through loads of fights, but they all just crashed upon us. It's different to be waiting for it. To know that when we leave this house, we will be facing the battle," Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke on. "To know that we might not all come back."

All three of them had been enrolled into the Order of the Phoenix shortly after they had left Hogwarts with their NEWTs. It had come naturally. Every since they had known about the Order, it had been clear that, one day, they would be a part of it.

"Where's Draco?" Hermione asked.

"He is probably at the Manor," Harry replied. "I'm not sure. He will be acting like a good Death Eater's son."

"It must be hard..." Hermione said thoughtfully. "To have to act as if you believe in pure-blood mania and all that, when you are secretly a member of the Order..."

"Well, look at Tonks and Kingsley," Harry replied. "They have to act like they're good little Aurors at the Ministry as well."

"Yes... I wonder if it's a good thing people know whose side we're on," Hermione grinned. "At least we don't involved in ridiculous pure-blood-Muggleborn conversations anymore. People are afraid we'll hex their heads off."

Harry smiled back at his friend, looking up at her properly for the first time all evening. Her brown eyes searched him for a few seconds, before she sighed and took his hand from across the table. "You'll be alright, Harry. You'll manage just fine. And we'll all be right behind you anyway."

Harry nodded. "We'll manage... for better or worse."

They said nothing for a few minutes until they both heard several people coming towards the kitchen. Harry recognized Ron's heavy footsteps thumping down the staircase at once, as well as the way Lupin closed the door to his room behind himself. The sound of something falling over in the hall and someone yelping in pain made them both laugh - Tonks had surely tripped over something again.

"Five Sickles on the high vase that changes its position when Tonks arrives in the hallway," Harry said, quick as a flash.

"Five Sickles on Dung's cauldron that keeps vanishing and turning up somewhere else in the house," Hermione replied, just as fast.

"Deal," Harry said and held out his hand.

"Deal," Hermione repeated, grasping his hand tightly and shaking it.

~ The End ~