The Golden Timepiece

Inheritance and chances

Weirdly enough, as soon as Harry had got in, the chauffeur got out again and held the door open for Harry. Extremely puzzled Harry stepped out.

"Um. Are we there already?" he started and then he realised what he was standing in front of. The Burrow. "Oh."

John grinned at Harry's surprise and got back into the car. A second later it disappeared.

"Must be some sort of portkey," Harry muttered and walked up to the house. Ron opened the door as soon as Harry knocked.

"Harry it's great to see you..." Ron trailed off as he took in Harry's new battered appearance, "...looking so beat-up and all."

"It's nothing serious," said Harry. He had had almost a week to think of an excuse to tell the Weasleys about his injuries. "I've been going to this Quidditch camp this summer and training been really tough," he explained.

Ron frowned. "Funny. Dumbledore didn't say anything about a Quidditch camp."

"It's been top-secret," said Harry, not breaking Ron's gaze, trying to show he was telling the truth.

Ron seemed to believe this. "You're going to have to show me what you've learnt then," he said, walking into the kitchen. "I'm thinking about trying out for Chaser on the team."

Mrs Weasley was cooking in the kitchen, humming as she bustled around. Ginny was perched on the table, gesticulating wildly as she explained some story. Mrs Weasley almost dropped a frying pan when she saw Harry.

"What on earth happened to you?" she exclaimed. Ginny's mouth was wide open.

Harry opened his mouth to explain but Ron interrupted.

"He's been at a Quidditch training camp. The training was rough."

Harry nodded. "I flew into the ground a couple of times."

"But why didn't they use healing spells?"

Harry's face was growing hot against his will. "They-uh, said it had something to do with moral fibre or something."

Mrs Weasley's forehead creased in concern. " Well, they're just talking rubbish. Come here dear and I'll get you fixed up. I've had enough practise with Fred and George."

Ginny moved her legs as Harry sat down and Mrs Weasley started to heal his injuries tapping his skin wherever there was a bruise.

"So what did you learn at the Quidditch training camp?" Ron asked, jumping up on the table beside Ginny.

Uh oh.

"Just the normal stuff," said Harry, stalling. "It was more of a summer camp than a Quidditch camp. We did other stuff like, uh ... football!"

"Foot ... ball?" said Ron dubiously.

"Yeah," said Harry, starting to brighten up. "I used to play it at my old school. I'm going to teach you it. It's really fun."

"Hold still dear," interrupted Mrs Weasley. "I just need to get rid of thing around your arm." She muttered a spell and the plaster disappeared.

Harry flexed his arm, testing to see if it still worked. "Thanks Mrs Weasley," he said. He grabbed his bags and said "I'd better go put my stuff upstairs."

Ron followed him up but it was only until they were inside Ron's room that he spoke.

"Um," he started. "Um ... Sirius sent me a letter this morning."

Harry looked up in surprise from the bag he was unpacking. "He did? What was it about?"

"It was about-" Ron started fidgeting. "He-he said you'd sent him a letter this summer about-about Avada Kedavra."

"Oh," said Harry, suddenly still.

"I just-I just wanted to know why you wanted to learn it. I mean-it's the same curse that killed your parents."

"I needed to do something," Harry said, trying to convey his feelings into words. "I needed to be able to fight Voldemort when I next meet him. Instead of just-just running away."

"You ran away?" said Ron, sounding slightly surprised.

"What? Did you think I defeated him and then came back? Of course I didn't. I ran away. What else could I have done? It was Voldemort."

"What happened ... you know - last year?" asked Ron in a half-whisper.

"Ron, why can't you just leave it? Just leave me to-to sort stuff out on my own."

"Hermione says it's not good to bottle things up," said Ron meekly.

Normally a comment like this would have produced a smile from Harry but for some reason it just made things even worse.

"Hermione doesn't know everything," he snapped.

"But we need to know. We want to help you," said Ron pleadingly.

"No," said Harry resolutely, shaking his head. "I am not telling you. I am not-" his voice cracked with emotion and trying not to cry he pushed past Ron quickly and ran down the stairs.

Ron stood still until he heard the front door slam. He grabbed a quill and started writing furiously.

*

Ginny looked up from her book as Harry stormed through the back door. He ran out to the garden and sat down underneath the tree. He buried his face in his face in his hands. He was so weak and stupid and...

Even at a time like this he couldn't cry, even though he was dying inside.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice broke the silence.

"Ginny?" said Harry, looking up.

"Are-are you okay?"

"...yeah," said Harry, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Ginny wasn't fooled. She put her book down and went over and sat next to Harry. The close proximity was making her skin tingle.

"Do you-do you want to talk about it?" asked Ginny blushing.

"You wouldn't understand," said Harry bitterly.

"Did you have a fight with Ron?"

"Look, I've got to go," said Harry, and quickly walked off.

*

Dear Hermione,

How are you? Thanks for the last letter. Harry arrived a few days ago but I'm really worried about him. I know you say I tend to overreact but I don't think I am this time. Harry was in really bad shape when he arrived. He normally does look pretty tired after staying at the Dursley's and even more this time. He had bruises all over his face and arms, though I've a feeling he was trying to hide it, and a black eye. His arm was in a sling and he was sort of hobbling. We asked him what was wrong, of course, but he just said he been to a Quidditch training camp and the training was rough. But Dumbledore hasn't said anything about that at all.

And then I asked him about Sirius' letter. You know, Sirius said Harry had written to him wanting him to teach him Avada Kedavra. And then Harry said he wanted to do something more then run away when he meets Voldemort.

Hermione, what's wrong with him? Has he told you anything about the Triwizard tournament? 'Cos he hasn't told me.

Write back soon,

Ron

*

Dear Ron,

I'm worried about Harry too. McGonagall contacted me over the holidays and told me that Voldemort might have different plans for Harry. She says that He's recruiting new Deatheaters and Harry might be one of the targets. Whatever happens we can't let Voldemort get Harry again. Him asking Sirius to teach him Avada Kedavra is a bad sign. Keep an eye on him until I get to the Burrow.

I'm not really sure why Harry had all those bruises. I do have a theory but I don't really want to voice it. Do you think that the Dursley's might have gone too far? Harry's always saying how horrible they are to him.

Whatever you do, don't jump to conclusions. Wait till I get there before you do anything drastic.

Love Hermione

*

He was walking along a long, ornately decorated corridor. A house-elf was walking in front of him, a bucket of water in its hand. Harry was being very stealthy, ducking behind things whenever the house-elf looked back.

Presently the house-elf stopped and started to scrub at some walls. Harry didn't stop and tiptoed past the elf to where he could see a small door. He pressed his ear against it but all he could hear was the murmur of voices. He eased the door open slightly and slipped through. Quickly he ducked behind a nearby pillar.

As far as he could tell he was in a large hall. There was a row of pillars on either side, one of which he was hiding behind. He could hear the voices better now and he thought he recognised the drawl of Lucius Malfoy and even Voldemort's high-pitched voice.

Aha! Deatheaters, thought Harry, feeling quite excited. Normally the thought would have filled him with fear but he wasn't thinking very clearly right now.

He peeked past the pillar and saw a circle of Deatheaters around Voldemort. Even Draco was there, though he was standing at the edge of the circle.

Harry ducked back quickly before anyone could see him. He slid down to the bottom of the pillar and listened. It seemed very difficult for Harry to make out the words.

"The protections Dumbledore has placed on him cannot be broken. If he came willingly we might have a chance."

There was silence, during which Harry imagined some grunt nodding and going off to fulfil his master's orders. There were a few muffled words and then Harry heard footsteps. He stood up quickly and took out his wand. He glanced at the door, wondering whether to run for it then glanced back to the side where Draco Malfoy was suddenly standing.

For a second they just stared at each other, then Malfoy seemed to get his voice back and yelled, "Father! Father! It's Harry Potter! He's here!"

Harry fled.

He pushed open a door and ran past the house-elf, knocking the bucket over. He could hear yells as someone slipped over on the water. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest and suddenly someone had grabbed him, and they were shaking him and shaking him and...

*

"Get off!" mumbled Harry. "Let me go!" and his hand flew out and hit someone.

"Ow," said the someone. The lights were switched on and Harry saw Ron, rubbing his nose.

"Oh, it's you," said Harry, relieved. "I thought you were a Deatheater. What do you want?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

"Oh, right. Is that all?" said Harry sleepily, and he flopped back onto the bed, falling asleep almost at once.

*

It was morning. Harry was still asleep but Ron was already up. It was one of those mornings that make you feel like doing something like eating Bran flakes and going for a jog. He stepped out into the landing to go downstairs for some breakfast. As he passed Ginny's room the door opened and Ginny grabbed his arm.

"Ron, is Harry up?" asked Ginny.

"Not yet. Can't you ask me another time? I've got to get my breakfast."

"Wait!" said Ginny, and she pulled out a newspaper clipping from her dressing gown pocket. "This was in the Daily Prophet. I thought you'd want to see it."

Ron took it from her and unfolded it. The headline jumped out at him.

HAS YOU-KNOW-WHO RETURNED?

The latest in a series of chain attacks, 5 Muggles were killed by a group who claim to be led by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The rumours that Voldemort was back were started just earlier this summer by none other than Harry Potter. In the fiasco that was the Tri-Wizard Tournament he claims to have been kidnapped by a group of Deatheaters and to have witnessed You-Know-Who's return. Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart's school is backing his claims. When pressed to comment, Minister Fudge stated, "Harry Potter's claims are completely untrue. He is only using this as an opportunity to further his career and to destroy the peace that we have worked so hard to maintain for the last fourteen years."

In an apparently unprovoked attack masked wizards fired onto a busy street, all of whom were Muggles. 5 were killed and 20 were seriously injured. An eyewitness stated that one of the masked wizards called out "Give us Potter and the attacks will stop."

Whether this is true or not remains to be seen but the Minister has reassured the public that all eyewitnesses will be cross-examined and the person behind these attacks will be found.

"Oh God," said Ron, dropping the clipping. "Poor Harry."

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Ginny curiously.

"Just leave me alone Ginny," said Ron, running his fingers through his hair. "I need to think. I'm going to get breakfast."

*

Harry finally emerged at nine o'clock and padded downstairs for breakfast. Ginny and Ron were at the table eating cereal. Ginny flashed him her brightest smile and Ron said,

"Hey Harry! Happy Birthday!"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, rubbing his eyes, realising he had totally forgotten.

"Sorry that there's no birthday cake or anything," Ron said.

Harry shrugged to show it didn't matter and reached over and took a parcel from Hedwig.

"That one's from Hermione," said Ron.

"Looks like a book," Harry commented as he tore the wrapping. Underneath there was a flash of green and silver. Harry pulled the present out and found it was indeed a book.

"Snakes and the language of Parseltongue : A recent study," Harry muttered.

"What's it say?" said Ron peering at the book. "Why's it written in Ancient Greek or something?"

Harry looked at Ron strangely. "But it's written English. Look, it's a book about Parselmouths."

"You can understand it?" said Ron in surprise.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Can't you?"

"No, it just looks like some weird language to me."

Harry passed the book over to Ginny. "Can you understand it?" he asked.

She flicked through a few pages and shrugged. "Maybe it's written in some sort of Parseltongue language," she said, handing it back.

Harry opened the note Hermione had attached.

Dear Harry,

I hope you like the book. I bought it in Bulgaria when I was with Krum. I couldn't read a word of it but the shopkeeper told me what it was about. He said it mentioned you. I thought it would be interesting for you to find out more about your Parseltongue ability.

I just got back from Bulgaria yesterday and need to buy some new books. Can you and Ron meet me in Diagon Alley at 11?

Reply soon,

Hermione

"Are we doing anything today?" Harry asked.

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"Hermione wants to know if we can meet her in Diagon Alley at 11."

"Mum wont mind," replied Ron absently, staring intently at a page in Harry's book as if it would help him understand it. Harry took it off Ron and was just starting to read the first chapter but Ron batted him on the head. "Don't start reading now!" he said. "You've still got other presents to open."

So Harry opened Ron's messily wrapped present. Inside was-

"Another book?" said Harry dubiously. "Has everyone mistaken me for Hermione?"

"It's a Quidditch book," said Ron. "I bought it before I knew you'd been to a Quidditch camp all summer. I suppose you already know all of the moves in their anyway."

It took a second before Harry realised what Ron as talking about. "Oh!" he said, surprised. "No, I-I'm sure there'll be some stuff in there I won't know."

"And ... uh, Snuffles also sent you a present," said Ron, widening his eyes in a significant way.

"Right," said Harry, catching on. "I'll open it outside," and he grabbed the last remaining present.

Ginny looked slightly hurt but Harry forgot about that as soon as he was outside. Underneath the wrapping paper was, to Harry's astonishment, a sword.

"Wow," said Ron, as he gazed at Harry's present. "I can't believe Sirius sent you a sword. Is that even allowed?"

"I don't know," said Harry.

The sword was thin and instead of the normal silver, a shimmering black; coiled around the silver handle were two snakes with emerald eyes. Harry though it looked distinctly evil. He cut through the air to test it and found it was incredibly light. He looked at the note along with the present.

Dear Harry,

You probably know by now that I told Ron about your last letter. I did this with the best intentions; you need to be able to tell Ron and Hermione about everything. In a time like this secrets are not a good idea.

To repair any lost feelings between us about this I have unearthed one of your family heirlooms. It belonged to your father's father. I meant to give it to you later but I feel it might be used better now, seeing as Hogwarts has a new subject.

S.

"It's from my grandfather," said Harry, in a funny voice. He felt light-headed.

"Who's that?"

"I don't really know," Harry replied, looking at the sword. "Sirius says I might need it for the new subject," he read and looked up at Ron. "What new subject?"

"Owl!" yelled Ginny from the kitchen. Harry and Ron ran to the kitchen door and quickly grabbed a letter each from the Hogwart's owl.

Harry opened it, skipped the parts about uniform and equipment and read the block letters at the bottom of the page.

"Please note that a new subject, Physical Education, has been added to the curriculum due to increasing concerns about wizarding health," Harry read aloud.

"Physical Education?" said Ron. "They can't be serious! I'm healthy enough!"

"Why did Si-Snuffles say I would need a sword for it though?"

"Maybe..." said Ron, placing his fingers on his temples as if he was reading Sirius' mind. "...maybe the new PE teacher is a Deatheater and Snuffles wants you to kill him."

"Her," Ginny corrected. "And who's Snuffles? I've heard you say the name before."

"Oh is that the time?" said Harry, glancing at the clock. "We've got some stuff to do before we have to meet Hermione. Haven't we Ron?"

"Er-yeah, that's right," said Ron and they both ran out of the door before Ginny could ask any more questions.

*

Draco stared up at his father in increasing annoyance. "But I did see him! He was behind that pillar, spying on us!"

"I do not want to hear any more about this," said Lucius harshly. "No-one else saw him. Now go to your room and don't you dare come back out."

Draco started towards the door but stopped, turned back and bowed to Voldemort. Then he left.

Lucius turned to Voldemort. "If he was here how much do you think he heard?"

"We referred to him by name," replied Voldemort.

The Deatheaters glanced uneasily at each other.

"What should we do?"

"Nothing," said Voldemort. "Even if he does know he will not be able to do anything."

There was a slamming of a door upstairs. Lucius winced. Voldemort raised his eyebrows and said carelessly, "If you don't mind me saying so Lucius, your son is completely spoilt."

*

Draco slammed his bedroom door so hard that a picture frame fell off the wall and shattered. His breathing was harsh and erratic. He couldn't remember ever being as angry as he was now.

That had been my big chance! My one chance to impress the Dark Lord and somehow, somehow Potter ruined it all. He made me look like some sick wacko who hallucinates and belongs in St Mungos.

How did Potter even get in? There are numerous anti-burglary charms all around the Mansion. Technically nobody should have been able to get in.

Draco's mouth curved into an angry snarl. He picture up a magazine from the floor and with a cry of rage threw it against the wall. He stared at the magazine and read the title upside-down.

HAS YOU-KNOW-WHO RETURNED?

Draco smirked. He'd read the article before. He just hoped that Potter had seen it. He deserved something more to feel guilty about. Especially after Cedric.

He flopped down onto his bed. His father had, of course, told him all about what had happened when Potter and Cedric had touched the Triwizard Cup. They had appeared in some graveyard somewhere and Potter had been tied to a gravestone by one of Voldemort's faithful Deatheaters (Lucius didn't say who, but Draco had a suspicion it was Sirius Black). Imagine being tied to a gravestone by your own godfather, Draco thought idly. The same man who'd killed your parents. And then Voldemort had put Cruciatus on Potter and forced him to duel...

Draco thought he deserved it.

*

Harry and Ron took Floo into Diagon Alley just before 11 o'clock, Harry thankfully turning up at the right grate.

Harry brushed the soot off his clothes and flattened his hair over his scar so that no-one would be able to recognise him. They stepped out of the Pub and into Diagon Alley.

"Er-where did Hermione say she was going to meet us?" asked Ron.

"She didn't say," replied Harry, "but our best bet would be at the bookstore."

Sure enough Hermione was there, sitting in a corner poring over some think book. As soon as she saw them she jumped up and hugged both of them.

"Nice to see you too Hermione," said Ron, a little nervously.

"Harry did you get the book I gave you?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah. And you wont believe what else I got," and he pulled out the sword from his bag.

Hermione was just as amazed as Ron was. She took it from Harry and held it carefully. She looked at the sword and then at Harry, her expression unreadable.

"It's really er-really-"

"Evil-looking, I know," said Harry, finishing her sentence. "It belonged to my grandfather apparently."

Hermione looked astonished. "And who's that?" she asked in a half-whisper.

Harry shrugged.

"Malfoy. 3 o'clock," Ron whispered and Harry quickly slipped the sword back into his school bag.

To his right was Malfoy, a few metres away, pretending to leaf through a book but Harry could see his eyes fixed on him. His stomach clenched and he tried to stay as normal as possible.

"I think he knows," he whispered to Ron.

"Knows what?" said Ron, loud enough for Malfoy to hear.

"We have to go," Harry whispered more urgently, tugging Hermione and Ron's cloaks, trying to get them to move.

"But I haven't paid for this book yet," protested Hermione.

Malfoy started to walk over and Harry, in a panic, ran. Hermione and Ron caught up with him near Gringott's bank.

"He knows," Harry gasped. "Oh God he knows. I could tell."

"Knows what though?" asked Hermione.

"Last night, I had this dream," Harry began. "I was in this big house, I think it was the Malfoy manor and I was walking through it. There was this door and I went through it but I'd walked straight into a Deatheater meeting. I hid behind a pillar, I couldn't hear much but Voldemort and Lucius were there. But the thing is - the really weird thing is that Malfoy saw me."

"In a dream?" said Ron doubtfully.

"Yeah but it was actually happened, I'm sure of it. And when I saw Malfoy just now I could tell he knew."

"Just try and stay away from him," as Hermione's reply. "Don't let on that the dream actually happened."

Ron looked nervous; as he always did whenever they talked about Voldemort. "Hey, how about we go buy our dress robes?" he said, in an obvious change of subject. "You won't believe how much I've got to spend. 50 galleons!"

Hermione tripped and almost fell. Ron caught her and pulled her up. "50 galleons!" she repeated incredulously. "How on earth did you get that much?"

"Fred and George gave it to me. They said it was a donation made by someone for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes but I don't believe them. I reckon they must've stolen it."

"Of course they didn't," said Harry, so decisively the others stared. "All I mean," he said, hastily covering his mistake. "Is that the twins wouldn't stoop as low as actual crime."

"I dunno," said Ron, pushing open the door of Madame Malkins. "What about when they practically blackmailed Bagman?"

"That was different," said Hermione, now looking through the rack. "Bagman had stolen money off them ... do you think this colour looks okay on me?" she asked, holding up a dress robe.

"Hermione ... why are you buying another dress robe?" asked Harry. "You already have one!"

Hermione looked scandalised. "I have grown over the past year, you know. You should be buying robes as well Harry. There could be another Yule Ball."

"Oh dear God I hope not," Harry muttered but he joined Hermione at the clothes rack anyway. He looked doubtfully at the kaleidoscope of colours before him and Hermione, sensing his hesitation, pulled out some robes of emerald green.

"They go with your eyes," she said simply, echoing Mrs Weasley's words almost a year ago.

Ron took a lot longer at choosing than Harry. About half an hour later, when Hermione had bought her robes (blue-purple) he finally picked out midnight blue dress robes with gold trim. They cost slightly more than 30 galleons.

The three of them were just leaving the shop when Harry stopped and said "Don't we need something for PE?"

Lists were hastily consulted and they found to their great surprise that white Karate suits that looked more like pyjamas than anything else were the PE uniform.

When they reached The Leaky Cauldron Hermione, who had been silently smouldering for the last half hour, finally lost patience, stopped dead in her tracks and said, "That's enough! Ron, will you please stop karate chopping the air! You've been doing it non-stop every since we left Madame Malkins. And you too Harry! I saw you trying to give me the death grip or something back there!"

Harry stopped mid-throttle and he grinned guiltily.

"But can't you see Hermione?" said Ron, about to do another enthusiastic kick, but stopped at a fierce glare from her. "We'll be able to get Malfoy back for all those years! Hyaa! He won't know what hit him!"

Harry grinned. "Just as long as I don't have to partner him."

"Huh?"

"The dream thing. Hopefully, if I stay away from him long enough he'll forget about it."

"Oh yeah..."

Hermione glanced at a clock above a shop. "I'd better be going," she said. "I told my parents I'd meet them at 4."

"We'd better be getting back too..."

"See you at Hogwarts then."

Harry felt inexplicably emotional and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. She was rather shocked but hugged him back, whispering into his ear "Write okay? And try not to worry about ... things."

*