Back to the Future

OK, people, this fic came to me (in a dream?) the other day out of nowhere in the middle of a History lesson. It’s amazing how much Hitler can stimulate these things. This fic could end up quite long; it’s one where dear old James takes a leap forward in time. I don’t want to give too much away, so here you are …

‘OK, listen up. Today, we’re going to attempt the Iris Solution. It’s not easy, but I’m confident that most of you can do it.’ James Potter sat in his Tuesday morning Potions lesson; half listening to what Professor Jackson was saying, and half staring at Lily Evans, his girlfriend.

James was in his final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had spent the last seven years, along with his best friends, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Lily Evans, at Hogwarts, and they had so far been the best years of his life.

Over the years, the group had gotten much closer. In James’ second year, he had discovered a horrifying secret about Remus. He was, in fact, a werewolf. Remus had never told his friends of his condition for fear of rejection, but they had still found out.

And they hadn’t rejected him. Far from it; they had hatched a plan to become Animagi; wizards who could change into animals at will. They had managed it in their fifth year; now they were Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Sirius could become a dog; Peter a rat; and James a stag. After many long and exhausting adventures, the four of them had written the Marauder’s Map, a map with every detail of the Hogwarts grounds.

‘James?’ James was shaken out of his thoughts. ‘James?’ Jackson repeated. ‘Do you think you could stop staring at Lily long enough to listen?’ James grinned.

‘Hmm,’ he said, and turned back to Lily, who was smiling. ‘Nope.’ Jackson laughed, and continued talking.

‘Anyway, this potion isn’t too tricky. Choose a partner, all of you, and then you can take on their eye colour, and they can take on yours.’

‘Something tells me James’ll have green eyes soon,’ Remus muttered to Sirius, who chuckled.

‘Right, partner up,’ Jackson said. ‘I don’t care who you’re with, as long as you can get it right.’ James immediately walked over and sat next to Lily.

‘Know what?’ he wondered aloud. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have green eyes.’

‘Very subtle,’ said Lily grinning. ‘Hmm, blue eyes, eh? Suppose it could be worse.’

They got to work on their potions. Sirius had paired up with Remus, and Peter was partnering Michelle. Frank and Sarah were also working together. James didn’t find the potion particularly difficult to brew. Sirius finished first, and placed one of his eyebrows inside his potion, which turned chocolate brown, the colour of his eyes. Remus finished, and his solution went a pale blue colour. James and Lily finished at the same time, and both added an eyebrow. Lily’s solution went bright green, and James’ bright blue. They both grinned.

‘After you,’ said James courteously, passing his goblet to Lily. She grimaced, and swallowed the potion in one gulp. James took hers and followed suit. He felt a stinging, burning sensation in his eyes, and closed them slowly. When he opened them, he was looking into his own bright blue eyes. Except that he was looking at Lily.

‘Ooh, now I understand why you all love me,’ she said. ‘I have lovely eyes.’

‘So do I,’ said James, laughing.

‘None of your eyes are as beautiful as mine,’ said Sirius from behind them. He looked strangely unfamiliar with Remus’ pale blue eyes.

‘Hmm,’ said Remus. ‘So this is the world through the eyes of Sirius Black, is it?’ He suddenly looked at the teacher and screamed. ‘Arrgh! Scary! Change me back! Sirius has strange eyes.’ James, Lily, Peter and Sirius laughed.

‘Ooh, I look good with brown eyes,’ said Peter, observing Michelle’s eye colour on his face.

‘Now,’ said Jackson. ‘As pretty as you all look, the effect won’t last long. Actually,’ he suddenly bowed his head I thought. ‘Hold on, I forgot. The length of time it takes to change back depends on your connection with your partner. The stronger it is, the longer it will take. Oops.’

‘Ah, looks like you’ll have emerald eyes for a while, Jamesy,’ said Sirius happily.

‘Goody,’ said James. ‘I like them.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lily. ‘I wonder what the advantages are of having blue eyes.’

‘None, as far as we can tell,’ said Peter, eyeing James.

‘You git,’ said James. He closed his eyes. ‘I’ll find you, even without any eyes.’ He lunged forwards, but Peter darted out of the way.

‘James! Watch out!’ said Remus. But it was too late. James crashed into the cupboard, and his vision went black.

***

‘Right,’ said Professor Snape sharply. ‘Today, we’re trying out a new potion. I can’t remember its name, but that doesn’t matter. The effect that the potion has is to change your partner into a person you’d most like to see. For example, depending on your desires, you could change your partner into your dead great-grandfather when he was fourteen. You will need –’

Seventeen-year old Harry Potter rested his arms on his desk. Lessons with Snape were becoming nothing short of monotonous. Harry, a tall, handsome wizard with green eyes and messy black hair, was in his final school year at Hogwarts. Since Lord Voldemort, known only in the wizarding world as ‘You-Know-Who’, had risen, nearly three years ago, Harry’ life had been fairly miserable. He had come face to face with Voldemort since then, and had managed to kill his second, Lucius Malfoy. Draco Malfoy – Harry’s archrival at Hogwarts – still didn’t know that it was Harry that had killed his father. Each week, disappearances were becoming more and more frequent – but Dumbledore was still keeping Voldemort away from Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort had been one of the main benefactors towards Harry’s horrible childhood.

When Harry had been just fifteen months old, the Dark Lord had murdered his parents, James and Lily Potter. Harry had survived the curse, and all that had remained to show it had ever happened was a curious lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Harry’s magic-detesting aunt and uncle had brought him up, and not until the age of eleven had his life been worth living. Hagrid, a bearded giant who lived in the grounds of Hogwarts, had rescued Harry. Since then, Harry had lived nearly the whole year round at Hogwarts, with his best friends Ron and Hermione.

But, in his fourth year, Lord Voldemort, aided by Harry’s parents’ betrayer, Peter Pettigrew, referred to as Wormtail for his ability to change into a rat, had risen again, and another reign of terror had started in the magical world. Hogwarts really was one of the few safe places remaining.

Harry was determined to revenge himself against Voldemort. He had become a bit cleverer since his first few school years, where he would wonder blindly into danger. He was patient – he would get vengeance someday. He had already saved the lives of his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, on numerous occasions. He wouldn’t let the Dark Lord get them as well.

Harry sighed, and glanced around the classroom. Malfoy was pointing at him and laughing. I wonder if he’ll ever grow up, Harry thought. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, two fellow Gryffindors, were inadvertently flirting with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, girls who shared Hermione’s dorm. Ron and Hermione themselves, next to him, were speaking in an undertone, and Neville had fallen asleep on his desk.

‘Harry,’ Ron whispered. ‘Who are you going to change your partner into?’ Harry thought about this. He knew perfectly well whom he’d like his partner to change into, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it. Still, it would be worth seeing the look on Snape’s face to make James Potter appear in the class. Snape seemed to have realised this, however, because he said.

‘Choose partners, all of you! Potter! You can work with Longbottom.’ You git, Harry thought, now I won’t have a chance. Ron and Hermione had partnered up, and were silently discussing something.

‘So,’ Harry asked Neville when he came over. ‘Know who you want me to be, Neville?’

‘My dad,’ said Neville simply. Harry instantly felt sorry for him. He was the only one who knew what had happened to Neville’s parents – Dumbledore had told him towards the end of his fourth year. Harry had spoken to Neville about it the previous year, and now Neville knew that Harry knew the whole story.

‘What about you, Harry?’ Neville asked.

‘Er, I don’t know,’ Harry lied. Ron and Hermione looked at him. He felt himself go red, but they soon looked away.

***

‘James,’ said someone from above him. ‘Are you all right?’ James opened his eyes, and found himself face-to-face with a blue-eyed Lily. He had a splitting pain on his forehead. She grinned.

‘We ought to call you Harry,’ she said. ‘He’s my cousin, and he’s got the same colour eyes as me.’

‘Ow,’ James said, getting up and rubbing his forehead. ‘I’ll bear that in mind. What happened?’

‘The cupboard fell on you,’ said Sirius simply from beside him. James laughed suddenly.

‘What?’ said Remus.

‘Well,’ said James, still chuckling. ‘It sounds like something from a Muggle comic. Still, it hurts more than that.’ He clutched his head again.

‘Ouch,’ said Peter. ‘You’ve got a nasty little scar there.’ He passed James a mirror, and James noticed a small scar, that looked a little like a bolt of lightning, on his forehead. Madam Pomfrey suddenly bustled out of her office.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ she said. ‘Good. Now, that shouldn’t be too hard to heal.’ She suddenly turned to Sirius and the others and started muttering to them. James couldn’t hear, but he didn’t particularly mind.

‘OK,’ said Sirius, when she finished talking to them. ‘So, it’s on a thin chain, you say?’ Madam Pomfrey nodded and then returned to her office.

‘What was that about?’ James asked.

‘She’s lost something really valuable in here,’ said Remus, staring at James with Sirius’ glittering brown eyes. ‘She wants us to find it. Gives us an excuse to stay with you, I suppose.’

***

Professor Snape checked his watch.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘You should all have finished by now. Put your potions into the goblets provided and give them to your partners. Longbottom,’ he said, eyes glittering, ‘the illustrious Mr. Potter can try your potion first.’ Harry gulped, but Snape was watching him. There was nothing to be done. Bracing himself, he reached out and swallowed his goblet of potion in one gulp. It felt just as it had when he had taken Polyjuice potion in his second year, but it was hurting more. His vision was becoming blurred, and the dungeon was spinning. With one last fleeting look at Neville, he fell over and hit the stone floor, hard.

***

‘Where’s Frank?’ James asked Remus, whilst Remus lifted up the sheets of one of the empty beds.

‘Over there,’ said Remus, motioning to a bed with curtains around it. ‘He got hit with some nasty potion, so Pomfrey got the curtains out.’ James nodded.

‘Are you having any luck?’ he asked Lily, who was at that moment upturning chairs in front of him.

‘Nope,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s in here.’

‘Well, keep looking,’ came a voice from the door. It was Madam Pomfrey. ‘Here you are, Potter. This medicine should stop your headache. I’ll get rid of that scar later.’

‘Thanks,’ said James, setting down the potion, as Madam Pomfrey left for her office. Sirius followed her, and emerged a few minutes later, looking relieved.

‘She says we can have a break,’ he said. He turned to Peter, Remus and Lily. ‘Shall we go up to Gryffindor Tower for a bit? We’ll come and see you later, Jay. Or should I say Harry?’ he asked, looking at Lily, grinning.

‘Harry’s fine,’ James replied. ‘I may try and get some sleep, anyway.’ His four friends left, leaving James alone with an unconscious Frank Longbottom. He decided he might as well get some sleep. He rolled over and lay down, but then he felt something uncomfortable underneath his sheet. He sat up, and pulled out a small hourglass on a fine golden chain.

***

‘Harry,’ said a familiar voice from above him. Harry knew that voice – it was Sirius’. But Sirius couldn’t be here, could he? He was still on the run from the Ministry. Although, in his last letter, he had explained that he was staying undercover with Remus Lupin in Hogsmeade. Harry opened his eyes, and almost screamed.

He was in the hospital wing, in a bed surrounded by curtains, and Sirius Black was standing in front of him, but he was seventeen years old. He blinked. This had to be a dream – it couldn’t be Sirius.

‘Sirius?’ he asked weakly.

‘Don’t be a prat, Harry. It’s me, Ron. This is who Hermione wanted to see.’ Harry almost laughed out loud with relief.

‘God, I thought I’d gone back in time or something. Hey, why are you looking at me like that? And where’s Hermione?’

‘So that’s what Neville’s dad looked like when he was younger,’ Ron replied, looking at Harry.

‘What?’ said Harry blankly. ‘The potion – it worked?’

‘Yeah, but it was really powerful. That’s why you got knocked out. You’ll be Frank Longbottom for a while now.’ Harry stood up, and looked into a mirror. Staring back at him was a handsome seventeen-year-old. He looked somewhat similar to Cedric Diggory. Harry suddenly chided himself for remembering Cedric. It was still painful. He looked back to Ron. Sirius had looked mischievous when he was younger, that was for sure. He still had the same glittering brown eyes, but the difference was incredible. He looked – innocent. Harry supposed that most of Sirius’ age came from his imprisonment in Azkaban. The difference was striking.

‘Where’s Hermione?’ Harry asked. ‘Who’s she?’ Ron bit his lip, and pulled back the curtain.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘No offence or anything, but –’ He was suddenly interrupted by a fairly tall, beautiful girl entering the hospital wing. She had dark red hair, and bright green eyes – the same as Harry’s. He almost fainted.

‘Mum?’ he said weakly. ‘You wanted to see my mum?’ He gaped at Ron, who went furiously red.

‘I, er –’ he stuttered. Lily Evans shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, Harry,’ she said softly. Harry said nothing. He just gaped, open mouthed, at the girl standing in front of him. He’d always heard people talk about how pretty his mother was, but he’d never expected her to look like this.

‘I just,’ he said slowly. ‘I need to be alone,’ he said. ‘Come back later.’ Sirius and Lily looked sadly at him, before Sirius muttered something to Lily, and they both left the infirmary. They both wanted to see my dad’s friends, Harry thought, and I could have made Neville my dad. He wanted to cry, but couldn’t find any tears. Harry had only cried once in the last seven years, and that had been when Cedric died. He wiped away a stray tear and sat, for a few minutes, lost in thought, before he rested his head onto the pillow and fell back into a deep sleep.

James bit his lip. What was this thing? It looked similar to Lily’s necklace. Suddenly, before he knew what he was doing, he had put it on. He stared at it for a few seconds. Should he tell Madam Pomfrey? Some distant part of his mind told him to spin the hourglass.

‘Why?’ James thought.

‘Do it!’ said the distant voice.

‘How much?’ James asked.

‘Use a rotation charm,’ his mind answered. James straightened up, and took his wand out of his pocket. He stared at the little hourglass for a moment, and then said softly ‘Volvor!’ The small hourglass began to spin. It span faster and faster and faster. James was just speculating that it looked like a Muggle RPM counter, when the ward around him suddenly disappeared. He was thrown headfirst into what seemed like a spinning vortex. He assumed he was just dreaming, when suddenly the hospital wing came back into focus. He looked around and breathed a sigh of relief. He was all right. The hourglass was still around his neck, and he could see Frank still sleeping soundly through a small gap in the curtains. He could see Madam Pomfrey still in her office, but she hadn’t noticed him.

‘Harry!’ came a voice from the door. James looked up to see Lily entering the ward. He looked at her strangely, but then remembered what she had said before.

‘Hi, Lil’,’ he said, smiling. She looked at him strangely, but then overlooked it.

‘Are you feeling better?’ she asked.

‘Fine,’ said James, grinning. Then, before she could stop him, he grabbed her and kissed her passionately. He pulled back to see Lily just staring at him, dumbfounded. He was about to ask what the matter was when she turned and ran out of the hospital wing. James gaped. What was wrong with her? he wondered. He suddenly jumped down from his bed and went to have a look how Frank was. He seemed all right – there was just a cut on his head. He had just replaced the curtains when Sirius’ voice echoed from behind him.

‘Harry,’ said Sirius. ‘You OK?’ James nodded. He remembered that Lily had told Sirius to call him ‘Harry’ as well.

‘Fine,’ James replied. ‘Fancy going down to the kitchens?’ Sirius nodded, and the two of them made their way down there.

‘Snape’s still being a git,’ Sirius said suddenly, as they were walking back towards Gryffindor Tower.

‘Isn’t he always?’ James asked. ‘Slimy bastard.’ Sirius grinned. ‘Hey, where’s Remus?’

‘Dunno. In a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, I suppose. Why?’

‘Something I wanted to ask him. What room’s he in?’

‘Try the third floor,’ Sirius suggested. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘See you later, mate,’ James said, clapping Sirius on the back. Sirius walked off, smiling.

On his way down to the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, he met Lily.

‘Hi Lil’,’ he said. ‘Are you still upset with me?’ Lily looked furious. Before he could do anything, she had slapped him across the face.

‘You had no right doing that, Harry Potter!’ she said furiously, her face inches from his.

‘All right, I’m sorry,’ he said, holding her arms. ‘And can you drop the whole ‘Harry’ charade, please? My name is James. I’ll see you in a bit; I’ve got to talk to Remus, who Sirius tells me is in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Bye.’ He had already rounded the corridor by the time realisation crossed Hermione’s face.

‘Oh no,’ she said softly, and bolted off in the direction of the hospital wing.

Hermione skidded to a halt outside the infirmary and darted inside. She spotted that the curtains were still drawn around where Harry had been lying. She slowly approached the bed. She closed her eyes, and drew back the curtains. Frank Longbottom was still lying there, breathing slowly. Hermione gasped.

‘Oh my God.’

*

James wasn’t quite sure what had been wrong with Lily before, but he supposed she might still be upset about – last month’s antics. He turned a corner, and came to the door of the room where Remus was. He was just approaching it, when –

‘Potter! What are you doing?’ It was Professor McGonagall. James couldn’t place it, but she looked – older, somehow.

‘Sorry, Professor,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to ask Remus something.’

‘You can talk to him later, Potter. Now, get back to Gryffindor Tower. It’s not safe for students to wander the school alone these days, especially you.’ James shrugged, but agreed to return to the common room.

James was almost back at Gryffindor Tower when Lily came running up from behind him.

‘Hi Lil’,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Still happy with me?’

‘Sorry about before, Ha – James,’ she said. ‘I was, er, upset.’

‘Never mind,’ he said, putting an arm around her and stroking her hair. ‘I still love you.’ Oh my God, Hermione thought, he thinks I’m Harry’s mum! Well, I suppose I should play along, but – kissing Harry’s dad – this is weird.

‘James,’ she asked suddenly. ‘Why are your eyes green, exactly?’

‘Oh! Yours have changed back,’ he said, noticing this for the first time. ‘What, don’t you remember our little eye-colour swapping experiment earlier?’ Hermione thought fast.

‘Of course I did,’ she said. ‘I just thought yours would have changed by now.’ James shrugged, but turned to look back at Hermione and stared.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘What’s going on? Your hair’s changing colour.’ Hermione gasped. ‘Oh, it must have been Malf – Snape. I’ll see you later, James!’ And she sped off towards the hospital wing before James could even say her name.

So, back again. Hmm … two parts in two days. Nicht schlecht. In this part, there are certain … realisations. All those peeps that reviewed chapter one have been duly thanked at the bottom. Thanks a lot …

Hermione rushed into the hospital wing, earning a reproving glare from Madam Pomfrey. She checked the mirror. There she was. Hermione Granger. She was no longer Lily Evans. But she had to be. And Ron needed to be Sirius. They had to keep James fooled at least until Harry woke up.

She approached Harry’s bed. Frank Longbottom was still lying there; fast asleep. This was good, Hermione thought. If Harry’s Frank, we can let James pretend to be him. She bit her lip, and drew back Harry’s curtains. What was he going to say?

Another thought struck Hermione. How on earth had James got into the future? Then she realised that she could answer that question easily. She had experienced time travel before. She got up, and rapped on the door of Madam Pomfrey’s office.

‘Madam Pomfrey,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I was just, er, wondering, whether anything really, really valuable ever got lost in this infirmary.’ Madam Pomfrey eyed her beadily.

‘Why?’ she said, as if this was a suspicious thing to ask.

‘Oh, just some research for – Muggle Studies,’ said Hermione quickly. ‘Er – "Are Muggles naturally clumsy, or are they just the same as wizards?" Hermione, impressed with her quick thinking, prayed that Madam Pomfrey had never checked her timetable when she had been in here. The matron seemed satisfied, however.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Once. It was a time-turner that we lost. It was handed back in by, er –’ Hermione bit her lip so hard that she was in danger of biting through it.

‘It was handed in by James Potter,’ said Madam Pomfrey, sniffing slightly. ‘In his final year at Hogwarts.’ She blew her nose. ‘Anything else I can help you with?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Hermione, and she left the office.

So that’s how he got here, Hermione thought, as she left the hospital wing. What now? She thought about this. Her best method would be to get more of the desire potion. If James was surrounded by Sirius and Lily … She turned a corner, and sped off in the direction of the Potions dungeon.

*

James sighed. There was definitely something wrong with Lily today. He was just wondering whether to go into the common room when he remembered that he’d arranged to meet Remus in the hospital wing. Or at least, Remus would think he was there. He sighed, turned on his heel, and marched back in the direction of the hospital wing.

*

Hermione screeched to a halt outside the Potions lab. Thankfully, it was empty. She entered the classroom quietly, and closed the door. She quickly found what she was looking for – hers and Ron’s potions from earlier on. She found Ron’s, looked around to check no one was looking, and poured some of the solution into a goblet. She looked around again, and swallowed the potion in one gulp. It felt as though her skin was melting; her hair was changing colour, and she was growing slightly.

Lily Evans shook her head. Now she needed some for Ron. She poured some of her own solution into a small bottle and screwed a cork tightly into it. Then, replacing her used goblet by the sink, she tiptoed to the door, walked through it, and closed it quietly behind her.

*

James reached the hospital wing but saw no sign of Remus. Frank was still lying in one of the beds, sleeping peacefully. James waited for about five minutes. Remus still didn’t come. James checked his watch. It was about two minutes until lunchtime. He could still catch Remus at the end of his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Swinging off the bed, he walked slowly to the door and left the hospital wing. He didn’t notice Frank’s eyes flicker open behind him.

*

Hermione reached the common room, searching feverishly for Ron. She found him having a game of chess with Ginny at the back of the room.

‘Ron,’ she said urgently, when she reached him. Ginny stared.

‘Who are you?’ she said. Hermione hadn’t realised that she still looked like Lily. In fact, when she turned, she noticed that half of the boys in the common room had turned to stare at her.

‘It’s me, Hermione,’ she whispered in Ginny’s ear. Ginny nodded.

‘Not now, Hermione,’ said Ron, who had changed back into his original self. ‘We’re playing.’ He turned to her, and grinned. ‘You should have heard the screams when I stepped in here as Sirius. Classic.’

‘Ron, this is important,’ she said, gritting her teeth. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled Ron out of his chair and led him to the portrait hole, leaving behind a very bemused Ginny.

‘What is it?’ said Ron impatiently, after Hermione had dragged him outside of the common room.

‘There’s no time to explain. Just drink this.’ She held out the bottle to Ron, who looked at it dubiously.

‘Come off it,’ he said, laughing. ‘You’ve probably hexed it.’

‘Ron,’ said Hermione, in her most dangerous voice. ‘Drink the bloody potion!’ Ron shrugged.

‘All right, calm down.’ He took the bottle, uncorked it, and drank it quickly. Within a few seconds, Sirius Black was standing in front of Hermione.

*

James took a short cut down to Remus’ classroom. Checking his watch, he realised that he had only one minute before lunch. Not wanting to be caught by any mad Professors just before lunch, he pulled on his Invisibility Cloak. He walked down the last corridor, and noticed that students were already coming out. That’s odd, he thought, I don’t recognise many of these people. Must be getting less observant in my old age, he remarked. The flow of students stopped, but Remus still hadn’t come out. James was a little perplexed, but then again, Remus was the sort to stay behind and ask the teacher questions. He approached the room, opened the door, and saw Remus. And he screamed.

*

‘Hermione, will you please explain why exactly I need to be Sirius?’ Ron asked Hermione miserably.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘There isn’t time. We need to find Ja – Harry, quickly.’

‘Why?’

‘Ron, stop moaning and follow me! Now, did Harry tell you where he was going?’

‘Yeah, he said he needed to speak to Remus. What?’ he added, seeing the look on Hermione’s face.

‘Oh my God,’ she said, horrified.

*

Harry opened his eyes. He could have sworn that someone had just left the infirmary, but it was empty. He blinked, and looked into the mirror. Frank Longbottom’s perplexed expression looked back at him.

‘Damn,’ he said, and sat up properly. He hoped to have changed back by now. He was still wearing his glasses, and they were blurring his vision. He removed them, and looked around. The covers on the bed next to him looked slightly creased. He wondered who might have come in, but then forgot about it. He could still see Madam Pomfrey working in the room next to him. He was just about to get up when Ron came bursting into the room.

‘Hello. Still not changed back?’ Harry asked cheerfully.

‘No,’ Ron said. ‘Hermione practically force-fed me more of the potion. I’ll be Sirius Black forever at this rate. I might just go and visit Snape …’

‘Seriously,’ Harry said, laughing. ‘What are you doing? Where’s Hermione?’ Ron suddenly looked at Harry as though realising something for the first time. ‘What?’ Harry asked, staring blankly at the look of utter amazement on Ron’s face.

‘You’re – you’re still Neville’s dad,’ said Ron weakly.

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘So?’

‘But – but if you’re here – then – then who did I talk to on the stairs?’

*

James stumbled back. This couldn’t be right, it couldn’t be. He felt as though he’d walked into a nightmare. How could this be? Remus suddenly stuck his head around the door. He heard me scream, James thought. Where the hell am I? Lupin looked around, and his eyes fell on the empty space where James was standing. He reached out and pulled the Cloak off.

‘Harry,’ he said, looking relieved. ‘You scared the life out of me. James used to do the same. What’s the problem?’ James stared at Remus. He was old. That was what it was. He was no longer seventeen-year old Remus, with pale blue eyes and brown hair. Now he was Professor Lupin, probably, with the same eyes but greying hair. James couldn’t take it in. This couldn’t be right. Where was he? He must have gone forward in time, but how? Then he remembered. The watch. He pulled it out from under his robes and stared at it. Lupin gasped.

‘Harry!’ he said. ‘Where did you get a time-turner?’ James mind thought at lightning quick speed. Everyone was calling him ‘Harry’. This Harry Potter must be my son, he thought. So they think I’m my son. He must look at lot like me. But his eyes – they must be green. Lily’s eyes …

James’ mind was spinning with the realisation of everything. He had been brought forward in time, by the time-turner, and everyone had mistaken him for his son, because of his eyes. But then, he thought, why were Lily and Sirius here? They called you Harry, said a distant part of his mind, they weren’t the real Lily and Sirius. You’re right, James thought, that was why Lily was so upset with me earlier. I kissed her, and she – she thought I was Harry. Talk about mistaken identities. But she asked – she called me James – she asked why my eyes are green. She knows …

‘Harry, are you sure you’re all right?’ James needed to find things out, and fast.

‘Professor,’ he said, and he could hardly believe it when he’d said it. ‘Sna – someone hit me with a bad memory charm. I’ve forgotten some things about myself.’

‘I’m sure I can fill you in,’ said Remus curtly. He couldn’t quite place it, but Harry seemed – slightly different. He overlooked this. ‘What do you need to know?’

‘I’ve forgotten,’ he said. ‘What’s my name again?’

‘Harry James Potter.’ So I named him after me, did I? James thought, what a caring father.

‘Fine. Who are my, er, best friends?’

‘Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I believe they were responsible for morphing into certain of your father’s friends earlier.’ That makes sense, James thought. Heh heh. I kissed my son’s best friend.

‘And, er,’ he bit his lip. He didn’t really want to know the answer to this question. ‘What happened to my parents?’ Remus gasped.

‘You really, you can’t remember?’

‘No,’ said James firmly.

‘Well, all right. Your parents, Lily and James, were murdered by Voldemort when you were one –’ James shuddered. He’d expected that from the way that everyone had used past tense when talking about him and Lily.

‘What happened next?’

‘Sirius Black, your parent’s best friend, was put in Azkaban for their murders.’

‘WHAT?!!’ James shrieked. ‘Sirius murdered me – my parents?’

‘You remember who Sirius is?’ Lupin asked. Of course I do, James thought, but surely, Sirius wouldn’t do that. Surely not.

‘Yes,’ said James. ‘He – he killed them?’

‘No. He wasn’t the one responsible. He was framed. By Peter Pettigrew, another of their friends. James almost burst into tears. He couldn’t believe it. Peter, one of his best friends, had murdered him and Lily and put Sirius in Azkaban.

‘Where – where’s Sirius now?’ he asked weakly.

‘Behind you, Harry,’ came Sirius’ voice. James turned, shaking like a leaf. A grown-up Sirius Black was standing right beside him, an arm on his shoulder. James looked into his face. His eyes – he could see the torment and suffering in those eyes.

‘I got your letter, Remus,’ he said. ‘Harry, how are you? Got a Quidditch match in two days, haven’t you?’

‘What? Oh, yeah,’ said James weakly. He couldn’t believe it. Neither of them recognised him. That was how similar he looked to Harry. If only my eyes were blue, he thought, then they’d recognise me. Sirius and Remus stood chatting for a minute, when somebody came around the corner. It was Lily.

‘Hi Sirius,’ she said. ‘Don’t faint. It’s me – Hermione.’ She hadn’t seen James, who had subtly put the Cloak back on.

‘Jesus, Hermione,’ said Sirius. ‘Don’t do that.’ He looked back at her, and sighed. ‘I wish James was here,’ he said wistfully.

‘Sirius,’ said Remus sharply. ‘Don’t …’ Sirius shook his head.

‘I know, I know. They’re dead – they aren’t coming back. But I miss them so much.’ He wiped away a tear. James, hiding under the Cloak, desperately wanted to jump out and say ‘I’m here!’ but he knew that wouldn’t be very good for Sirius’ heart. And he had to talk to Hermione.

‘Hermione,’ said Remus. ‘Sirius and I are just going up to the staff room. What did you want?’

‘Have you seen Harry?’ Remus looked around.

‘He was here a minute ago,’ said Remus. ‘I suppose he went back to Gryffindor Tower. We’ll see you later, Hermione.’ He and Sirius nodded to Hermione and then walked off down the corridor together. Hermione turned too, and walked off down the corridor. When he was sure there was no one around, James removed the Cloak, and grabbed her arm.

‘H – James!’ she said, surprised. ‘Where were you?’ James didn’t reply; he just steered her into an empty classroom.

‘Firstly,’ he said, when she had sat down, ‘calling me James is not a good idea. Someone will get suspicious. Call me Harry, OK? Secondly, you’re not Lily Evans, and this is not my time. You’re Hermione Granger, my son’s best friend. Am I correct?’

‘How did –?’ Hermione began.

‘ – I work it out?’ James asked. ‘Simple. When you see that your two best friends are in their late thirties and refer to you as your son, it kind of gives it away.’ Hermione just gaped. ‘So,’ James said. ‘You’re Harry’s best friend, yes?’

‘Er, one of them,’ said Hermione weakly.

‘The cleverer of the two, I’d say,’ said James, grinning. Hermione flushed. ‘So, what can you tell me about Harry?’

‘Er, well, why don’t you ask him yourself?’

‘Good idea,’ said James. ‘My, you are clever. Lily was clever.’ He wiped a tear from his eye.’

‘James – I’m sorry.’ She still couldn’t quite believe that she was calming down Harry’s dead father who was grieving Harry’s dead mother. ‘Come on, shall we go and see Harry?’

‘I’m going up there,’ said James. ‘You get Sirius and Remus.’

‘I’m sure they’re gonna love this …’ She walked to the door.

‘Oh, Hermione?’ said James.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you know how to reverse Isis solution. Lily’s eyes are annoying me now.’

‘Sure,’ said Hermione. She stepped back, and gazed into James’ eyes. She felt her knees go weak. These were the same eyes Harry had – this practically was Harry. But it wasn’t, she reminded herself. It was James.

‘There you go,’ she said, pulling back and looking at James’ blue eyes. He pulled a quill out of his pocket and transfigured it into a small mirror. Hermione stared.

‘What?’ said James, checking his eyes in the mirror.

‘Oh – it’s just that – I’ve never seen anyone transfigure something that easily. Well, except for the teachers.’

‘It’s my forte,’ said James. ‘Why? Do you like Transfiguration?’ Hermione nodded. ‘All right. Come on, we’d better be going. See you in the hospital wing.’ Hermione nodded again, and the two teenagers left the room.

*

‘Malfoy was laughing when Neville’s potion knocked you out. What a git,’ Ron said to Harry, chewing on a chocolate éclair.

‘I don’t really care what he thinks,’ Harry replied. ‘Hey, by the way … do you know if Neville drank my potion earlier? It could have been him you saw.’

‘Dunno. Snape made Hermione and me drink our potions. Then, when he saw who we became, told us to bring you up here. You should have seen how pale he went.’ Harry laughed.

‘Probably would have committed suicide if my dad had appeared.’

‘Most definitely,’ said a soft voice from the door.

*

Hermione knocked impatiently on the staff door. The fact that James was alive; and the same age as her, Harry and Ron, hadn’t really got through to her yet. He was so similar to Harry in appearance – and yet such a different person. He was far cleverer than Harry, as was most likely, but Hermione couldn’t place quite what it was that made him different. Or what had made her go weak at the knees when he had kissed her in the hospital wing.

‘Miss Granger? Can I help you?’ It was tiny Professor Flitwick. He had opened the door and was smiling pleasantly at Hermione.

‘Er, yes, please, Professor. Is Professor Lupin there?’ Flitwick put his head back into the staff room.

‘No, Miss Granger. He went to see Professor Dumbledore, as I recall.’

‘Thank you, Professor,’ said Hermione, and she sped off towards Dumbledore’s office.

She skidded to a halt beside the ugly stone gargoyle and quickly muttered the password. She had been in here not long ago, when her parents had been found dead. She wiped away a tear, and started to climb the spiralling, moving staircase. She reached the top, and knocked softly on the large oak door.

Sirius answered the door. Behind him were Remus and Dumbledore, who were beaming at her.

‘Hermione,’ said Sirius. ‘What can we do for you?’

‘Er, someone wanted to see you, Sirius. And you, Remus. He’s in the hospital wing.’

‘Who is it?’ asked Remus curiously. Hermione thought. Saying "it’s your best friend who’s been dead for sixteen years in teenage form" might not go down too well, so she just said. ‘You’d better come and see for yourselves.’ Remus glanced at Sirius, who nodded.

‘All right, Hermione, we’ll come. You’ll have to forgive us, Albus.’

‘Not to worry,’ said Dumbledore, from behind his desk. ‘I’m sure you’re in safe hands.’ He ushered them out of the office.

‘Hermione,’ said Sirius impatiently, as they approached the hospital wing. ‘Who is it?’

‘You’ll see. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

*

Harry gasped, and heard Ron do the same. He stared for a few seconds at the person who had just entered the hospital wing. Then he relaxed.

‘Oh, it’s you, Neville,’ he said, relief and pain crossing his face at the same time. ‘You shouldn’t do that.’

‘I suppose you think I’m Frank’s son?’ said James simply. He glanced at Ron, who was still in Sirius’ form. ‘Hmm … you look different, Ron. New haircut?’ Ron gaped at the stranger.

‘Who are you?’ said Harry shakily.

‘What, Harry, did we teach you no manners? Oh wait, we didn’t. We’re dead, aren’t we?’ Harry stared. Who the hell was this person? Then an idea popped into his head.

‘Really funny, Malfoy,’ he said spitefully, staring at his father. ‘Really funny.’

‘Malfoy?’ said James in amazement. ‘My God, you can hit the soft spots.’ He grinned. ‘It’s good to see you, Harry.’

‘Who the hell are you?!’ said Harry angrily. He was shaken.

‘What? Can’t you see the resemblance between us? Surely Sirius left you one photo? I’m your dad, Harry.’

‘You’re not,’ said Harry furiously. ‘Firstly, my dad’s dead, and secondly, you’re only my age. WHO ARE YOU?!’ he suddenly leapt out of bed and jumped at the impostor. However, the impostor waved his hand, and Harry soared back to the bed. Ron was still gaping at the two of them, open-mouthed. Harry glared at his father.

‘Useful trick, that,’ said James, sitting down on the bed next to Harry’s. ‘It helps when you’re the Heir of Gryffindor. You are, you know.’ James stared at Harry for a minute with his bright blue eyes. ‘I realise that my present self is dead and gone, but I’m not my present self. I’m from the past.’ He pulled something from around his neck. ‘A time turner,’ he said, simply. ‘Not something to be played around with. But I was stupid. I put a revolving charm on it, and so here I am.’ He looked into Harry’s eyes for a minute. Frank’s eyes…

‘You’re not,’ said Harry, his voice full of hate.

‘Not what?’ said James.

‘My dad,’ Harry replied. ‘YOU’RE NOT MY DAD!!’

‘Easy,’ said James. ‘No need to raise the roof. All right, if I’m not your dad, who am I?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Harry resentfully. Ron coughed.

‘Ask Hermione,’ he said, grinning. ‘She’ll tell you who I am.’

‘What?’ said Harry.

‘Oh, Hermione’s not stupid. She’s quite the opposite, in fact. Didn’t take her long to realise. But – see – I thought she was Lily. Just like I thought you were Sirius, Ron. I don’t think she appreciated my, er, treatment, so to speak.’

‘What the hell so you mean?’ said Ron suddenly.

‘Ah, you can speak, Ron. Well, when I arrived, Hermione was there to give me a welcoming kiss.’ Ron lunged at James.

‘All right!’ said James dangerously, throwing Ron back onto the bed with another wave of his hand. ‘Stop this! We’re fighting like little children. Harry, I’m your dad, whether you believe me or not. Ron, you like Hermione.’ Ron flushed. ‘Fair enough. I only kissed her because I thought she was Lily. Stop this nonsense! It’s ridiculous.’ Harry looked just about to reply, when the infirmary door opened, and Hermione, Sirius and Remus stepped in.

Thanks, kids.

So, back again. Third part. All constructive criticism welcome. All flames ignored. All good reviews duly noted and all authors put on list at bottom. Right, carry on (Note: You will not know who Jason is without reading the Werewolf) … in this part … some more realisations …

Sirius entered the room, took one look at James, and fainted dead away. Remus followed him, looking paler than James had ever seen him.

‘James?’ he said faintly.

‘Remus,’ said James cheerfully. ‘Long time no see.’

‘But you’re – you can’t be –’

‘Dead?’ James replied. ‘Oh, I am. Definitely. ‘But that’s my present self. Ever remember that time in our seventh year when I happened to find a time-turner?’ Remus nodded weakly, still gaping open-mouthed at James. ‘I had a little fun with it before giving it back. I came here to visit my son and my friends. Well, except one.’

‘Peter,’ said Harry darkly from his bed.

‘Yes. I’ve an idea how we can have some fun with him – you’ll see. First we need to wake Sirius, though.

‘You can’t be James,’ Remus suddenly blurted out. James looked at him.

‘Can’t I?’ he said simply, and before anyone could do anything James had transformed into his Animagus form. A large bronze stag reared it’s head; its prongs glinting in the sunlight from outside. James changed back with a small pop, and stared at the open-mouthed people around him.

‘Hmm. Believe me yet?’ There were a number of shaky nods. Remus looked close to tears.

‘I thought I’d never see you again,’ he said huskily. ‘I knew I wouldn’t. I –’ he didn’t seem able to find the words. He simply wiped away a number of stray tears. James couldn’t say anything either. He simply walked over and embraced Remus.

Hermione, lying next to Harry on the bed, had never seen such an odd sight. The fact that Remus believed him had done something funny to James’ face. His blue eyes were oddly over bright, and Remus was almost suffocating him. But James didn’t seem to mind.

‘It’s so good to see you, James,’ said Remus, still looking at James as though he couldn’t quite believe it. ‘How – how did you get here?’

‘You – you think I’m me?’ said James weakly. Remus’ face suddenly burst into a wide grin.

‘Well, how many other wizards do I know that are an unregistered Animagus – that can change into a stag – and look exactly like you. I believe I saw you earlier on?’

‘That was horrible,’ said James fervently. ‘Looking into a room to see that one of your best friends is about twenty years older than you.’

‘It was the time-turner,’ said Ron suddenly, although James had already told him this. ‘That’s how you got here.’

‘Quite. Oh, and Harry, Hermione, Ron? Can I change you back? It’d be nice to see the real versions of all of you.’ Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

‘Can you do that?’ Harry asked.

‘Simple,’ said James. He muttered a few words a waved his hand over the three of them. Again, Harry, Ron and Hermione felt as though their skin was melting, and presently, the three of them stood in their original forms.

‘Ah, that’s much better,’ said Ron, looking into a mirror at his now freckly face. ‘Thanks – er, James.’ But James wasn’t listening. He was staring, transfixed, at (a/n Now I deliberated for a long time which name to put in here. Then I remembered that James loves Lily. Damn) Harry.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said softly, for it felt to him as though he was staring into a mirror. ‘Incredible.’

‘We won’t be able to tell you apart,’ said Hermione.

‘You forget,’ said James, turning to her. ‘That we have different eyes. Hmm.’ He surveyed Hermione for a few seconds and turned to Ron. ‘I see what you like about her,’ he whispered softly into Ron’s ear, so no one else could hear. Ron flushed, but grinned.

‘Right,’ said James, taking charge. ‘Where’s Neville Longbottom?’

‘I can tell you that,’ said Remus. ‘Neville was taken home this morning because of shock.’

‘Seeing his dad?’ said James blankly. ‘Why should that shock him?’ Harry bit his lip.

‘Er – dad? Something rather nasty happened to Neville, shortly after you and mum died.’

‘What was it, Harry? And call me James.’

‘Well – some of the Death Eaters caught Frank and his wife – and – and tortured them to the point of insanity. They’re in St. Mungo’s.’ James clapped a hand to his mouth.

‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘No wonder he was shocked. Is this Neville a bright student?’ He was surprised to be answered by sniggers from Ron and Hermione.

‘No,’ said Ron. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact.’

‘That makes sense,’ said James. ‘The fact that the potion worked would only serve to make him even more surprised. But this is good. Excellent, in fact. I can pretend to be Neville Longbottom, trapped within James Potter’s body.’

‘And if someone tries to change you back?’ said Hermione.

‘People can be persuaded,’ said James cryptically, waving his hand. Remus chuckled.

‘I don’t think that’s the best idea, James,’ he said. ‘The Ministry went ballistic when you did it on me.’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Harry, with a slight sense of foreboding.

‘The Unforgivables,’ Remus replied. ‘James learned how to do them – somehow.’

‘Yes, but I only used them when desperate times required desperate measures, as you should well know. And anyway, what’s illegal is using the curses, not knowing them.’

‘You know the Unforgivables?’ repeated Hermione faintly. ‘But – you have to be – you have to –’

‘- Be really powerful?’ James finished. ‘I know. But I’ve only ever used Unforgivables twice – the Imperius curse, on both occasions. One was inadvertent. The other saved mine and – er – someone else’s life. You must have used one once, Harry.’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, who had remained silent. ‘Once. I killed someone.’ Remus, Hermione and Ron gaped at him. James looked unsurprised.

‘Who?’ said Ron faintly.

‘Lucius Malfoy,’ said Harry, with malice. ‘I didn’t mean to – I just –’

‘- Felt power coursing through you and your wand seemed to do the rest?’ James finished. ‘That’s what you get when you’re an Heir. You are still, aren’t you Remus?’ At this, Harry, Ron and Hermione started.

‘What – oh yeah,’ said Remus. ‘But I was never as powerful, because I wasn’t raised in my Heir’s house. And being a werewolf – that made me much less powerful than you and (a/n Aha! Nice try! You’ll have to wait for The HoM {Year 3} to see who the Heir of Ravenclaw is. You’ll never guess).

‘You’re an Heir?’ said Harry to Remus, amazed.

‘Heir of Hufflepuff,’ said Remus simply.

‘Right, let me just sum up,’ said Harry impatiently. ‘My dad’s just come forward twenty years in time. He’s the Heir of Gryffindor and so am I, and his best friend – who is incidentally twenty years younger than him – is the Heir of Hufflepuff. Yes?’ James nodded.

‘I can imagine it’s difficult. It’d be like – Michelle appearing back in our time.’ Remus looked away, his hands in his face. James bit his lip, but the other three merely exchanged puzzled glances.

‘Remus was in love with Michelle,’ said James softly. ‘Voldemort got to her –’ James suddenly stopped speaking at the looks on Harry, Ron and Hermione’s faces. ‘What?’ he said.

‘You said – you said You-Know-Who’s name,’ said Hermione shakily. James laughed.

‘You think I was afraid of him?’ he said, bitterly. ‘Oh no. He was afraid of me. And I bet he’s afraid of you now, Harry.’

‘Voldemort was afraid of you?’ said Harry incredulously.

‘Yes,’ said James, his voice full of hate. ‘I was the Heir of the only person Slytherin feared. How do you think Slytherin died? Gryffindor put his sword though his heart, that’s how. And I have that sword.’

‘So do I,’ said Harry blankly. Well, I can summon it, at least.’

‘When have you used it?’ James asked, interested. Harry sighed. He began to recount to James all the details of what had happened in his second year. He told him how he had summoned the sword from the Sorting Hat, how he had used it to kill the Basilisk, how he had managed to get rid of Tom Riddle. When he finally finished, James looked immensely proud.

‘You’re a Parselmouth, eh?’ he said, amused. ‘How?’

‘Voldemort,’ Harry replied. ‘I got it when he gave me this.’ He pulled back his fringe and showed James a scar, shaped like a lightning-bolt.

‘That looks nasty. The curse did it, I suppose?’

‘Yeah. Mum – well, Lily to you, I suppose – she died to save me.’ James suddenly wiped away a tear.

‘I would have brought her along,’ he said slowly. ‘You’d have liked to meet her. Especially you, Hermione. You’re similar in so many ways. Smart, beautiful, kind …’ he bowed his head for a few seconds. Hermione blushed, and James grinned.

‘Don’t mind James,’ said Remus, smiling. ‘A born flatterer. Some of the things he said to Lily – you’d have thought he was entering a cheesiness contest.’

‘What about you and Sirius, though, eh?’ James replied, laughing. ‘You had your fair share of "Your beauty is like a bright summer’s day". At this, everybody laughed.

‘What?’ James said. ‘Now Sirius, he was a master. What would he say, Remus? Hmm … things like "Your breath smells like warm Butterbeer – let’s make out" He was very direct –’ Harry, Hermione, Ron and Remus were now all laughing uproariously.

‘Can I ask,’ said Ron, containing himself for a moment, ‘whether you ever wrote a poem for Lily that went,’ he laughed again, ‘something like this? "Her eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad –" This was too much for both Ron and Hermione. They looked at Harry for a few seconds, and burst into great peels of laughter.

‘What’s going on?’ said a sharp voice from the corner of the room. It was Professor Snape.

‘Snapey,’ said James cheerfully, turning to Snape, whose expression went from perplexed to completely horrified. ‘What? Not happy to see me?’ He chuckled bitterly as Snape went crashing to the floor, next to Sirius.

‘I think we’d better revive them,’ said Remus. ‘Anyway, don’t you want to talk to Sirius?’ James paused. Was he really nervous about speaking to his best friend?

‘All right,’ he said. ‘But let’s get rid of Snape first. I’m Neville, remember?’ He approached Snape. ‘Enervate!’ Snape opened his eyes, and stared at James and Harry.

‘Potter?’ he said weakly.

‘No, it’s me, Professor,’ said James. ‘Neville. They sent me back, but I’m stuck as Harry’s dad.’ A look of intense relief spread across Snape’s features.

‘Detention, Longbottom.’

‘With you, sir?’ James asked innocently.

‘Yes. I must inform the other staff. Especially those with weak hearts.’ He strode out of the room, muttering something about the incompetence of children these days.

‘He’s as big as idiot as he was twenty years ago,’ said James, laughing. ‘I’m gonna scare him good at the detention.’

‘How?’ asked Remus, amused.

‘Oh, you know. "Sir, it may just be the potion, but did I save your ugly arse from a werewolf when I was sixteen" That should be good,’ he added, as the others laughed. ‘Come on. Time to pass on the news to our mutual friend.’ He stepped over Sirius and muttered ‘Enervate.’ Sirius came to, and stared at James.

‘James,’ he said weakly. ‘It is you. How the hell did you get here?’ James was taken aback.

‘How did you know?’ said James.

‘Hmm … over ten years as your best friend? Knowing that you handed in a time-turner shortly after you got that scar.’ He pulled back James’ fringe, and showed everybody the small lightning bolt scar on his forehead. ‘Why do you think I fainted. I knew it was you. You fooled me good earlier, though. I’d forgotten we’d taken Iris solution. James – I – I never – I shouldn’t have –’ James didn’t answer. He embraced Sirius tightly. Sirius was still looking as though he didn’t quite believe it.

‘It’s incredible,’ he said softly. ‘Incredible. So, why are you here? Torture Snape?’

‘Did you ever grow up?’ James asked, laughing. However, Sirius face pained at these words. ‘Oh Sirius, I’m sorry. About Azkaban …’ He trailed off. He had absolutely no idea what to say.

‘Well,’ said Sirius. ‘If it wasn’t for a certain son of yours, I’m sure I’d have no soul.’

‘Why? How did you escape?’ Sirius began to tell James everything. He told him how Peter had faked his death, how he managed to escape when seeing Peter disguised as Ron’s pet rat. A number of times, Harry and Remus spoke, when Sirius found it hard to continue. At the end of it all, James stood, amazed.

‘You conjured a Patronus?’ he said amazedly to Harry. ‘Only one person I know conjured a Patronus that young…’

‘Who?’ asked Harry, interested.

‘Who else,’ said Remus. ‘But himself? He conjured one at exactly the same age and saved exactly the same person.’ Sirius nodded in agreement.

‘The number of times James saved our arses,’ he muttered. Hermione spoke up.

‘Yes, I know someone like that,’ she said, beaming at Harry, who grinned.

‘How boring our lives would be,’ said Ron, grinning. ‘Without the Potters. Good for you Harry. And you, James.’ Harry and James looked at each other, smiling.

‘Strange, really,’ Harry mused. ‘I always expected my dad to be older.’ Everybody laughed. The realisation was still only sinking in, especially for Harry, Remus and Sirius, and James’ presence seemed to brighten the mood immensely. Hermione couldn’t place it – but there was something – special, about James. She knew there was also something special about Harry. And she would know – she’d been his friend for seven years. She suddenly remembered back to the time when Harry had saved her from Voldemort, the previous year. She vividly remembered floating – and then Harry’s face was there, staring into her own. He’d never told her what had happened – he tended to fall rather silent when the topic was mentioned. Ron hadn’t been there – in fact, nobody had. Hermione had never found out …

*

Later that night, James sat up playing wizard chess with Ron. They had told everyone that it was Neville, stuck as James. Everyone took their story without question.

‘My, how well I know that look,’ said James grinning, as Ron moved his bishop and smiled slyly. ‘Peter always gave me that one. Just as he played a great move. I have no idea where he went so dreadfully wrong.’ He stopped talking for a second. Harry and Hermione, who had doing their Charms homework, fell silent to listen.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard much about Peter, when he was younger?’ They shook their heads. ‘Peter wasn’t clever – oh no. He wasn’t really good at Quidditch either. But Peter – ironically enough – was the trustworthiest person I knew at school. After it, that person became Sirius, but while at school, Peter was very trustworthy. Peter knew all our secrets. He knew who liked each other, and what everyone was getting everyone else for Christmas. He realised that Lily and I loved each other before we did. He never told Sirius and Remus. Only one other student knew as well.

‘Who?’ Harry asked.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard of him. Jason, his name was, Jason Mak. A great friend, he was. In our third year, his parents died, and there was – some – unpleasantness. There was one tale he always recounted, after Lily and I got together. It was in our sixth year …

***

James walked quickly up the corridor. Another death, he thought, this is getting out of hand. Well, I suppose it is the season to be jolly, he thought bitterly, noticing Hagrid putting up trees as he passed the Great Hall. He walked through and door, and bumped straight into Lily, knocking her to the ground.

‘Oh, sorry Lil’,’ he said, pulling her to her feet.

‘Hi James,’ she said. ‘Where are you going? Gryffindor Tower?’ James nodded. ‘Not a good idea,’ said Lily, smiling. ‘Sirius has been working on something – "Dung Grenades", I think he called them.’ James laughed.

‘Same old Sirius,’ he said. ‘Where are you going, then?’ Lily was about to answer, when there was soft laughing from the far end of the corridor. It was Jason, grinning broadly.

‘Hi Jas,’ said James. ‘Why are you so happy?’

‘Look above you,’ said Jason simply. James and Lily looked up. The two of them noticed a sprig of mistletoe, right above their heads. James cheered.

‘Finally!’ he said, grinning. ‘Six years I’ve been waiting to stroll under some mistletoe with you, Miss Evans.’

‘Hmm … hormonal urges, is that what it is?’ Lily asked, grinning.

‘Naturally,’ said James. He bent down, and kissed Lily softly on the lips. When he pulled back, she had a slightly dazed look on her face. ‘Lily,’ he asked. ‘Are you all right?’

‘What? Oh yeah,’ she said, looking completely disorientated.

‘Come one, shall we go back to the Tower? Or do you want to go for a walk?’

‘Let’s go to the Tower. We can see if Sirius has stopped smelling.’

‘I don’t think that day’ll ever come, personally, but all right.’ He slung an arm around her, and said ‘Onwards, fair maiden!’ in a knightly tone.

From the far end of the corridor, Jason studied Lily’s face carefully as her and James walked through the door. He knew that look. He turned, and opened the door. He looked back, sighed, and muttered ‘Head over heels.’ before turning and walking through the door.

***

‘I remember that day,’ said James quietly. ‘Anyway, like I say, Peter was someone you could trust. From what Remus and Sirius have told me, I made him our Secret-Keeper because of this. I never thought he’d cross over. Anyway, because he did, I think a little revenge is in order.’

‘You want to get back at him?’

‘Harry, Peter is no longer my friend. He chose the Dark Lord over you, Lily and me. Nobody gets away with that.’ He pictured Peter in his mind for his moment. How could you, Pete? he thought.

‘How can you find him?’ Hermione asked.

‘Do you have the Marauder’s Map, Harry?’

‘What – I – yes, I do. Accio Map!’ The Marauder’s Map came soaring into the room.

‘How did you get this?’ James asked.

‘Er,’ said Ron. ‘My brothers – they stole it – off Filch.’

‘Did they now? Sound like people I’d like to meet. Anyway, when I wrote this, I added my own secret charm to it – the Marauder Locator. I can say the name of the Marauder, and it’ll show me where they are.’

‘Really?’ said Harry. ‘That’s clever. I could have used that, if I’d known …’

‘No you couldn’t,’ James said simply. ‘I made it so only I could do it. Right, I had to press against the Trophy Room,’ he did. ‘And say the name backwards. Laitmrow,’ he said softly. Suddenly, the thin ink lines disappeared. They were replaced by words, and a smaller map. The words said:

The map showed Hogsmeade, and a small black dot signified Peter. James grinned, and folded up the map.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Harry, give me the Cloak. It’s time I paid a certain old friend a visit …’

Ciao

Back to the Future (4): Regrets

‘I’m coming with you,’ said Harry immediately.

‘Fine,’ said James. ‘I suppose if we’re going to scare him, we’ve gotta do it properly (a/n Wise words…).’

‘I’ll just get my coat,’ said Harry, leaving for the Gryffindor dorms.

‘OK. Will you two stay here?’ James added to Ron and Hermione.

‘Yeah,’ said Ron, shrugging.

‘What if Sirius and Remus come looking for you?’ asked Hermione, sounding concerned.

‘Tell them where we’ve gone. I’m not going to kill Peter. I’m going to hand him in, so Sirius is off the hook. But I’ll scare him a bit first.’ Ron grinned, but Hermione still looked unsure.

‘Look, we’ll be fine, Hermione,’ said James kindly. ‘Peter wouldn’t have the ability to harm Harry or me.’ Hermione nodded. ‘And you can stay here with Ron. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that –’ James grinned as both teenagers went red.

‘I’m ready, James,’ said Harry from the corner. ‘Let’s go.’

*

Peter Pettigrew sat in his small hideout in Hogsmeade, waiting. He was bored out of his skull. If only I’d brought a radio, he thought bitterly. Sirius always had a radio … but there was no point in thinking like that. Sirius was no longer his friend – he was his enemy. So was Remus. They had tried to kill him. And Harry … Peter bit his lip. He couldn’t do it. He’d never been able to do it. He couldn’t hate Harry. Every time he thought about it, James’ face came swimming into view. He couldn’t stand it – but then again, he had made the right choice. James had been on the wrong side, the Dark Lord always told him, they’d all been. They were weak. However, he had never called James weak. Peter knew that he had feared James to an extent, but had managed to catch him off guard. And Peter had helped – Peter had shown he was true to his master …

He stretched out his legs, and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet. He smirked when he saw the headline:

Seventeen Muggles killed in Death Eater attack

He liked it. Life was good. Since the Dark Lord had been reborn, he had given Peter much more responsibility and trust. He would be a great Death Eater some day. His name would never be forgotten. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud hooting from outside. Bloody owls, he thought, they’ll give me a heart attack. Peter had never really liked owls. As a young boy, he had owned a small rat, the animal he later learned to change into. Throughout school, he hadn’t had a pet. James had had Mercury; Sirius had had Snowy. And they had all had each other. Peter hated the memories of his childhood. They made him feel depressed. They made him wonder whether he’d made the right decision …

But of course he had. Another check of the Daily Prophet was enough to realise that. He had made the right decision, of course he had …

Another howl hooted outside, causing Peter to jump out of his chair. He looked at the clock. This late already? he pondered, time flies sometimes. He decided he might as well get himself some dinner. His stomach was aching with hunger. However, he’d never been much of a cook. Sirius was the one who used to whip feasts up in a matter of minutes. Peter remembered the meals they’d had together. Him – and Sirius – and James. They had dined together a lot. Sirius and Peter’s flat hadn’t been very far from Godric’s Hollow, and anyway, they’d Apparated most of the time …

Peter remembered how James had helped him revise for his Apparition test. Surprisingly enough, he’d managed it first time. James had too, obviously. Sirius got it second time, but Remus never passed. Maybe it was to do with his physical structure – being a werewolf and all – but Remus had never clocked Apparition. He’d always needed to hold onto Sirius, James or Peter to get somewhere.

But Remus hadn’t been around a lot in those days. He’d been working a lot – mostly on his job. They have never discerned exactly what it was Remus did – well, James knew – but otherwise, it was shrouded in mystery. One year, Peter recalled, they had only seen Remus twice – at Easter and on James’ birthday. He had always looked so pale – Peter had wondered aloud on many occasions what he did, but Remus would act as though he hadn’t heard and abruptly change the subject.

And then came that day. The day that changed Peter’s life – his chance to show the world what he was really made of. The Dark Lord found him. And he forced me to join him, Peter remembered. But it was worth it. James and Sirius never suspected. Quite the opposite – the fools suspected Remus might be a follower of You-Know-Who, due to his prolonged absences. Peter had almost given himself away at times, but he kept his cover. The Dark Lord always said that he was cunning, and shrewd, monitoring the Potters like that. Peter’s parents had died young, and encouragement had rarely come to him. James, Sirius and Remus had always encouraged him – but not in the same way as You-Know-Who.

And then there came that glorious, wonderful day, when Peter was made Lily and James’ Secret-Keeper. He could show everyone now. He would show what little Peter Pettigrew was capable of. And yet – when he heard of Lily and James’ deaths – he hadn’t rejoiced, like other Death Eaters. He had never been able to place it – he had felt – empty. As though an important part of him had been removed. And then he heard the horrific news of the Dark Lord’s downfall. Horror had ripped through him. But then again – no one knew, did they?

Except for Sirius.

Sirius knew. Sirius would hand him over to the Ministry. He couldn’t let it happen. He had to revive his master…

But Sirius got to him before that. Peter had never seen such devastation – such damage – imprinted on a person’s face. Sirius hadn’t said a thing. He had just stared at Peter, his bright brown eyes cutting through Peter like knives. Peter couldn’t stand it any longer. He had come up with a plan whilst standing there. Everyone – Dumbledore included – thought it was Sirius who had been Lily and James’ Secret-Keeper. If Peter could somehow work this into his favour …

He remembered that conversation as if it was yesterday …

***

Sirius had him, cornered. There was no way out now. The Ministry would be here – they would subject him to Veritaserum – Sirius would get off. He would get life in Azkaban. Peter thought, fast. He had never been the clever one in the group. Or the sporty one. But then a sudden inspiration hit him. It was so simple – so brilliant – that he was amazed he hadn’t thought of it before. It might work …

‘James and Lily, Sirius, how could you?’ he moaned, pretending to wipe tears from the side of his face. It worked a treat. He turned and noticed that some Muggles had stopped to watch. Sirius’ face had contorted.

‘What?’ he hissed, looking furious. They were the last two words Peter heard Sirius speak for twelve years. He subtly slipped his wand into his hand, hidden behind his back. Peter had always been able to fake tears. He’d have never known how useful it would’ve been. He started to cry, which made some of the Muggles glare at Sirius. This was going well…

‘You know,’ he shouted angrily. ‘Lily and James! Sirius, how could you?! He noticed Sirius go for his wand. There was no time to lose. ‘Have fun in Azkaban,’ he muttered. He muttered ‘Displodo!’, and what happened next happened in slow motion. The whole ground shivered, and there was a huge explosion. Peter didn’t have time to listen … listening wasn’t important. Before Sirius could blink, Peter had changed into a rat. His explosion had left a nice hole down into the sewer. He could here screams behind him, but they weren’t important. He was free…

Back on the streets, Sirius bowed his head. Twelve dead bodies littered the ground in front of him. Muggles were screaming – the Enforcers would be here any minute. Sirius suddenly spotted something, from where Peter had been standing. It was a photo, taken in their last year at Hogwarts. He picked it up, and stared at it.

Remus and Peter were grinning broadly at the camera. He, Sirius, was at the front, doing some form of lopsided dance. And Lily … James … they were at the back, not looking at the camera, but at each other. Sirius’ face shattered when he looked at them. She was staring with her green eyes into his blue ones. I’ve failed you, he thought, I’ve failed you both …

Sirius looked again at the photo. Peter was smiling, good-naturedly. He had been good then, Sirius thought. He wasn’t with Voldemort. He glanced again from the grinning Peter to Lily and James. He started to laugh. Not a happy laugh, but a cold, bitter laugh. He noticed Muggles staring at him, but he couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t stop when the Enforcers came, or when he was transported to Azkaban.

But Azkaban stopped the laughter.

***

Peter sighed. Deep down, it had pained him to see Sirius go to Azkaban. Then again, he reminded himself, he would have killed me. Peter sat, musing things over in his mind. He checked the clock again.

‘Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘Memory Lane sure makes time fly.’ He decided that he might as well make himself a mug of hot chocolate before he went to bed. Though his culinary skills were far from first-rate, he was sure he could stretch them that far. He got up off his chair, and walked through to the tiny kitchen. He often alluded to his master that there wasn’t enough room to swing a cat, but the Dark Lord would go off on stories about how he had been Britain’s greatest cat-swinger in his time, when it had still been a sport. Why can’t he just like Quidditch? Peter wondered.

Peter picked up his mug, and walked back into the living room to fetch the book he’d been reading. He couldn’t remember the title, but he knew he’d enjoyed it so far. As he crossed the room, his eyes fell again on the Daily Prophet. He smirked, but then another owl outside hooted. Those cursed owls! Peter thought. He had almost dropped his hot chocolate in surprise, but kept a grip on it. He was just reaching for the light switch, when …

BANG!

The door of the hideout flew backwards, and a shadowy figure stepped in. Peter stood, transfixed, staring at his doorway. The figure lowered its hood.

‘Hello, Peter.’

*

‘Hmm ... this is getting boring,’ said Hermione, folding her arms. Ron had just won his sixth game of chess in a row.

‘What do you want to do?’ Ron asked. ‘Go and see Hagrid?’ Hermione looked out of the window to the stormy night sky.

‘No – too wet.’ The two of them sat in silence for a moment.

‘Ron?’ Hermione asked after a few minutes, causing Ron to start and send chess pieces flying everywhere.

‘Yeah?’ Ron answered, summoning chess pieces back to the table with his wand.

‘You know last year, when –’ She bit her lip. ‘– You know when Harry – he saved me?’ Ron nodded to show that he knew. ‘Do you – do you know how he did it?’ Ron fixed her with a piercing stare.

‘You’ve no idea?’ he asked her evenly.

‘No. I mean; was I stunned? I just remember floating, and then Harry’s face …’

‘He’s never told me, to tell the truth, Hermione. But I know what he did.’

‘What?’ asked Hermione desperately. Ron shook his head.

‘We’re not twelve years old any more, Hermione,’ he said. ‘You’ll just have to find out for yourself.’ And he stood up, and left the common room, leaving Hermione to her very confused thoughts.

*

‘Sirius? Are you in here?’ Remus had popped back into Hogsmeade to check on Sirius.

‘I’m here, Remus,’ said Sirius pleasantly, strolling out of the kitchen with a plate of lasagne floating behind him. ‘What’s up? Want some food?’ He motioned to the floating delicacy behind him.

‘No, I need to get back to the castle soon – I should talk to James. God, it’s so amazing. James was the last person I’d expect to mess with a time-turner.’

‘Do you think it was coincidence, that he came here?’ Sirius asked shrewdly.

‘Oh, don’t get me started on all that Divination crap again. Let me guess, was this "foretold in the stars", or something?’

‘Ha ha,’ said Sirius. ‘I just think it’s strange, what with Voldemort being strong again...’ Remus raised his eyebrows.

‘Cooper must really have got though to you,’ he said, smirking. ‘"My dear boy, you have the Grim!"’ Sirius snorted.

‘She never discerned that fact. But I remember people got dead scared whenever she said that and then they saw me in the grounds. I use to chase around some of her unlucky pupils.’

‘A right old bully you were,’ said Remus, now grinning. ‘Anyway, do you have the potion?’

‘The Wolfsbane?’ Sirius asked. Remus nodded. ‘In the kitchen, next to –’ He was cut off at this moment, because a loud scream had just issued from one of the houses across the street. Well, it wasn’t really a house; it was a derelict, uninhabited dump, to the best of everyone’s knowledge. Sirius and Remus looked at each other for a second. Then, without a word, the two of them swept out of the front door, locking it behind them.

*

‘Harry?’ said Peter nervously.

‘The very same,’ said Harry. ‘Expelliarmus!’ Peter’s wand flew to his hand, and Harry twisted it around in his fingers, the moonlight illuminating the smirk on his face. ‘Long time no see, Peter,’ he said. ‘When was the last time we met? Ah yes, your master’s little revival party.’

‘What do you want?’ asked Peter shakily. He was trapped. Harry had both wands, and Peter knew only too well what he was capable of.

‘You’re coming up to the castle with us,’ replied Harry simply. ‘Sirius has been a fugitive long enough.’

‘Who’s "us"?’ asked Peter angrily.

‘Oh, how could I forget?’ He looked outside the door, and nodded. A second figure came into the room, with a hood covering his face. He stepped past Harry, and walked closer to Peter, standing terrified in the corner. Peter watched, shaking, as the figure came closer and closer. Was it a Dementor? He thought blindly. No, it wasn’t cold enough. The figure stopped, a foot in front of him. Peter closed his eyes. The figure slowly lifted off his hood, and the moonlight lit up his pale face. Peter squinted his eyes, not looking directly at the figure. Finally, seeing nothing would happen if he stood cowering in this corner, he threw caution to the winds, and opened his eyes.

And he screamed.

*

Hermione sat up in her dorm that night, thinking hard. What had Ron meant? "We’re not twelve years old any more, Hermione. You’ll just have to find out for yourself." What did he mean? What was it that Harry had done? It seemed futile thinking about it – it was making her head spin. But every time she tried to forget it, Harry’s emerald eyes kept slipping back into her head. Concentrate, Hermione, she told herself sternly, you’ll never figure it out if you can’t get Harry out of your head.

Hermione jumped off her bed and picked up a Charms book. She flicked through it, but the words were just blurred in front of her face. She could see something different now. When she had changed James’ eyes back – she had been looking into his eyes – no, Harry’s eyes …

Hermione sighed. There was no way she could do anything constructive whilst she was like this. She closed her Charms book and placed it back in her trunk. Might as well get some sleep, she thought, I suppose Harry’ll be training tomorrow morning. She wondered for a moment where that thought had come from, but then remembered that Harry had been her friend for seven years – she was bound to remember simple things like that. Harry was her friend…

*

Peter fell back against the wall. This had to be a trick; it had to be. Of course it was.

‘Nice try, Harry,’ he said, sneering slightly. ‘But I always remember James being my age.’ Harry said nothing. James stared at Peter for a moment. Peter could feel those blue eyes penetrating him. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘You’re dead!’ James removed his cloak, and stepped away from Peter.

‘Dear me, Peter, where did you go wrong?’ he said. There was more pity in his voice than anger.

‘Shut up,’ Peter replied. ‘James is dead. You’re an impostor.’

‘Of course I am, Peter, except –’ He suddenly stepped closer to Peter, who recoiled. He drew back his sleeve, and showed Peter a mark on his forearm. Peter screamed again.

‘The Marauder’s Mark,’ he said softly.

‘I’m dead,’ said James simply. ‘Fair enough. You betrayed me.’ Peter couldn’t look James in the eye. ‘But this is not who I am. This is who I was.’ He pulled the time-turner from around his neck.

‘A time-turner,’ he said softly. ‘That’s how I’m here. Where was I about twelve hours ago? Helping you master the Iris Solution.’ Peter couldn’t stand the bitterness and disappointment in his voice. It was boring into him like a drill.

‘James, I –’

‘You joined Voldemort and allowed him to kill Lily and me. And if it weren’t for Lily, Harry would be dead, too. What happened to you, Peter? You were such a good friend. But you betrayed us, Peter. Look at me!’ Peter could hardly believe that a seventeen-year old version of his former and dead best friend was ordering him around, but he couldn’t put up any resistance. He looked into James’ eyes. There was disgust in those eyes …

‘You betrayed us all. Me, Lily, Harry, Remus, Dumbledore. But most of all, Peter, you betrayed Sirius. Sirius. How many times in school did you proudly say that James Potter and Sirius Black were your best friends? And what did you do?’ James was now talking in barely a whisper, but he knew that both Harry and Peter could hear every word. ‘You killed one friend and framed the other for his murder. How could you do that, Peter? Did Voldemort teach you that it was the right way of life? You know that that’s not true, Peter. I know that you know that. And do you want to know why?

‘Why?’ asked Peter nervously.

‘Because of Jenny, that’s why,’ said James furiously. ‘I thought you’d never forget that day …’

***

‘Calm down, Peter,’ said Sirius impatiently from the corner, where he was beating Remus in a game of chess. ‘I’m sure she’s fine.’

‘I just want to know why she hasn’t written,’ said Peter impatiently. ‘She ought to have written back by now.’

‘Patience,’ said Remus simply, moving one of his chess pieces.

‘Checkmate,’ said Sirius, grinning. ‘What were you saying? Patience?’ Remus grinned.

‘Right, that’s six-nil to you. Hmm – best of thirteen.’

‘Nice try, Lupin. You now owe me six Butterbeers. Unless you’d like to go double or quits on one last game?’ Remus nodded.

‘Looks like twelve Butterbeers to Sirius,’ said James lazily from the corner. Lily was asleep across his chest, and he was absent-mindedly stroking her hair.

‘Oi,’ said Remus, in a mock-affronted voice. ‘No comments from you, lover boy.’

‘Yes,’ said Lily sleepily from the couch. ‘Lover-girl needs attention.’

‘Oh, get a room,’ said Sirius, grinning.

‘We should do what the man says,’ said James, laughing. ‘Hmm … girls’ dorm or boys’ dorm?’

‘Oh no,’ said Sirius suddenly. ‘I’ve had enough of walking in on you two.’ He shuddered. ‘Go someone where nobody ever goes; where it’s deserted.’

‘The library?’ Remus suggested.

‘I’m going back to sleep,’ said Lily. ‘Too tired to think. Oi. Stop that!’ James was nuzzling her neck.

‘Sorry,’ he said, grinning. ‘Hmm, how about doing this instead?’ (a/n Tarik! You are coming nowhere near this next sentence; do you hear me?) He pulled down and kissed her on the lips for about twenty seconds. When he pulled back, Lily looked completely dazed.

‘Young love,’ said Remus, raising his eyebrows in a typically adult gesture. He looked about to say something else, when there was a soft tap-tap on the window. They all whirled around, and gasped.

One of Voldemort’s owls, jet black with a silver stripe across the face, was bobbing up and down outside the window. James saw Peter’s face go the pallor of parchment.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘No.’ He opened the window, and wrenched the letter out of the owl’s talons. He ripped it open feverishly, read it, and his face crumbled. He let out a sound that he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of producing; half pain, half anger. He threw aside the letter and ran to the dormitories.

James picked up the letter gingerly. He read it, and felt another surge of hate towards Voldemort.

***

‘I remember you telling us that night,’ said James, his voice shaking slightly. ‘That you would get revenge on Voldemort, no matter what the cost.’ James bowed his head. Peter, who was close to tears, couldn’t say a thing. The words got stuck in his throat. He just sat down on the bed, feeling utterly pathetic.

And he was. It had taken James coming forward in time for him to realise that. All those years ago – he’d made the wrong decision. He’d betrayed his only true friends – the only people who’d ever believed in him (Well, except maybe Dumbledore). The people who had helped him throughout his school life. The people who had encouraged him to believe in himself. And how had he paid them back? He sighed. Harry and James were talking in an undertone. It was incredible to look at them. They looked like identical twins. Peter sank lower in his chair. He could escape, but there would be no point. It would be futile. He couldn’t go back to Voldemort without seeing James’ bright blue eyes in his head again. He would go to Azkaban. That would make a lot of people happy – the Dementors, especially. But then another image entered Peter’s mind. The Dark Lord. His threats. His power. Peter shuddered. This wasn’t going to be easy. He would go back to the castle with James and Harry.

Or he might have done, if it hadn’t have been for the interruption.

Peter looked up. A tall, shadowy figure had just entered the room. He could hear muffled shouting in the background. James whipped the Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over Harry, hissing to him to be quiet. He himself muttered a few careful words, and he slowly dematerialised. Peter hadn’t noticed this, however, because he was staring at the person who had just come in.

He stepped closer, and Peter could smell the alcohol on his breath. He walked into a patch of moonlight, and his face was partially illuminated. He was tall, and quite handsome. He looked no older than Peter himself, and he had a curious scar across one side of his face. Peter let out a relieved sigh.

Under the Cloak, Harry nearly fainted. This was the second dead person he’d seen in mere hours. Lucius Malfoy was standing inside the room, staring at Peter. Harry didn’t trust himself not to speak. As quietly as he could, he placed a silencing charm upon himself. Fortunately, neither Peter nor Malfoy had noticed.

‘Wormtail,’ Malfoy said coldly. ‘Our Master sends his regards. Lumos!’

‘Lucius?’ said Peter, in awe, as the room lit up. ‘I thought you were meant to stay undercover. Even your son thinks you’re dead.’

‘I had to speak with you. The Master has new plans. Faking my death was clever, but he has a better scheme. The Potter boy will never suspect.’ Not wanting Lucius to blurt out Voldemort’s plans in front of James and Harry, Peter interrupted.

‘Wouldn’t you like to talk about this another time, Malfoy? I’m rather tired.’ Peter was almost sure he heard faint laughter.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Wormtail. You must be informed, now.’

‘I really don’t think that’s necessary,’ said a cold voice from the door.

*

Hermione couldn’t sleep. She had crept down into the common room and was quietly sifting through some of her Transfiguration notes. But she couldn’t concentrate. She was anxious: anxious about Harry and James, and wondering why they weren’t back yet. She was infuriated at the both of them. Why can’t you get yourselves out of my thoughts? she thought angrily.

‘Hermione?’ came a soft voice from the door. It was Seamus.

‘Oh, hi, Seamus,’ she said, patting the sofa next to her in an indication that he should sit down.

‘What’s wrong, Hermione?’ he asked softly, the dying embers of the fire illuminating his concerned face.

‘I was just thinking,’ she said quietly. ‘About Harry, and Ja – Neville.’ Seamus looked unsurprised.

‘Where are they, by the way?’ he asked. ‘Their beds were empty.’

‘I don’t know – it’s just – they might – they might be in – in danger.’ She could feel silent tears running down her cheek.

‘Come on,’ said Seamus kindly, putting his arms around Hermione’s neck. ‘Don’t cry –’ Hermione didn’t mind Seamus hugging her. In fact, he was usually very good at calming her down. Especially if she had been fighting with Ron. She laughed.

‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ she said, tears still flowing. ‘Harry’s always the one who looks out for me; protects me. But it’s me who does all the worrying.’ Seamus smiled.

‘Harry cares a lot for you,’ he said kindly. ‘As does Ron. They’re both great friends. We’re all lucky to have them.’ Hermione nodded her head, and smiled.

‘So,’ she asked. ‘When was it you became the number one Philosophical-Psychiatrist-Calming-Down-Distressed-Teenagers doctor?’ Seamus laughed.

‘My dad could always do this,’ he said. ‘My mum never got angry with him; he always calmed her down.’ They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Hermione asked something she’d been wanting to ever since Seamus came in.

‘Seamus?’ He jerked awake – he had been napping on her shoulder.

‘Yeah?’

‘You know that time when – when – Harry, he –’

‘Saved your life?’ Seamus finished. Hermione nodded.

‘Yes. Do you know – do you know how he did it?’ Seamus sighed.

‘I remember that night,’ he said pensively. ‘I don’t know what he did, but I remember how strangely he acted. He came in here, completely silent. You were in the hospital wing of course, and Ron was with you.’ He smiled. ‘Harry came in, and went straight up to the dorm. Didn’t say a word. But his eyes – I’ve never seen them brighter. And you know Harry – he’s got the best poker face of anyone we know. I don’t know what it was, Hermione, but to him, it was something important.’ They lapsed into silence again.

‘Come on,’ said Seamus, after a few minutes. ‘Let me escort you back to your dormitory.’ He stood up, and lifted Hermione under her legs. She giggled, but Seamus seemed not to notice.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said slyly, as he opened the door to the stairs. ‘"He’s madly in love with me, and now he wants to take me to my dorm. Gasp. Oh no!"’ He grinned. ‘You’re all right, Hermione. I’m not going to do anything.

‘You know me far too well, Seamus Finnigan,’ said Hermione, laughing. ‘There I was, thinking I was attractive …’

‘You don’t need me to tell you that’s not true. It’s unanimous, from what I’ve heard that you aren’t.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Harry. Ron. Neither of them ever stop talking about how beautiful you are.’ There was no bitterness or sarcasm in his voice. ‘They’re right, you know.’ Hermione blushed.

‘Do they really say that?’

‘’Course,’ said Seamus, opening the door to the girls’ dorm. ‘But I expect you hear tales from Lavender and Parvati …’

‘Don’t even remind me,’ she said, putting on a high voice and raising her eyes. ‘"Don’t you think Harry’s hot, Hermione?" "I don’t know how you can have stayed his friend for all these years" "Do you love him, Hermione?" "When are you getting married?" "What will your kids be called? I think Parvati’s a nice name …" I tell you, Seamus, it’s the nearest thing to the Spanish Inquisition.’ Seamus laughed.

‘What?’ he said gently, laying her down on her bed. ‘Don’t you agree with them?’

‘Well,’ said Hermione. ‘I just – I don’t see Harry in that way, that’s all.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Seamus, smiling. He bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. ‘’Night, Hermione.’

‘Good night, Seamus,’ she said, as he drew the curtains around the bed and left the room quietly. Of course I don’t see Harry in that way, thought Hermione, before resting her head on her pillow and falling back into a deep sleep. Of course I don’t …

*

‘Sirius?’ said Peter weakly, staring at the figure behind Malfoy.

‘Expelliarmus!’ Sirius replied, pointing his wand at Malfoy. ‘Hmm. I’m sure the Ministry will be very interested to hear that you’re still with us, Malfoy,’ he said coolly, pocketing Malfoy’s wand. ‘Very interested …’ Malfoy looked furious.

‘You didn’t tell us you had an audience, Wormtail,’ he snapped.

‘Evidently not,’ said a voice from behind him. James had materialised.

‘Well well well. Even Harry Potter has come to join in the fun,’ said Lucius coldly. Under the Cloak, Harry had to stifle a laugh.

‘Shut up Malfoy,’ said James simply. He hasn’t seen my eyes, he thought happily, that’s good. Malfoy looked highly affronted.

‘Don’t tell me to shut up, you –’

‘Silencio!’ said James, cutting him off. Malfoy looked livid.

‘Right,’ said James. ‘Peter. Malfoy. You’re coming with us.’ He bound Lucius and Peter, and turned to Sirius and Remus.

‘What made you two show up?’ he asked.

‘Screaming, Harry,’ said Remus simply. ‘Came from over here.’ James moved closer, so that they could see his eyes. Sirius and Remus started.

‘Oh, hello, er ... Harry,’ Sirius said, smirking. ‘Shall we go back to the castle now?’

‘Of course,’ James replied simply. ‘Lead the way.’ Remus bound Peter, looking, in James’ opinion, as though he’d rather put the Cruciatus curse on him.

‘Well, hello Peter,’ said Sirius acidly. ‘Keeping busy, are you?’ Peter flinched. Sirius laughed coldly.

‘No transforming this time,’ said James evenly. ‘Or I’ll kill you. Remember the Mark, Peter. And remember Davies,’ he spat, glaring at Peter. Peter himself suddenly realised that it was James, and not Harry, that was speaking.

‘Malfoy,’ he said suddenly. ‘You have to tell the Dark Lord. That’s not H –’

‘Silencio!’ said James suddenly. ‘Thank you Peter. Now, follow me, all of you!’

*

‘Harry?’ said Ron dazedly, having been woken by someone entering the dormitory.

‘It’s me, Ron,’ said Seamus softly.

‘Seamus?’ said Ron, blinking. ‘What are you doing up at this hour?’

‘Hmm … you remind me strongly of my parents when you say that.’ He smiled. ‘I was just putting Hermione to bed.’

‘Now that makes you sound like a parent,’ said Ron, sitting up on his bed, his knees drawn up between his arms. ‘Why was she up?’

‘Why else?’ said Seamus, motioning to Harry’s bed. Ron sighed.

‘When will she work it out?’ he muttered softly.

‘What?’ said Seamus, interested.

‘Hermione. Harry – he – it’s just obvious …’

‘Do you like Hermione?’ Seamus asked, completely missing the point. Ron sighed again.

‘I love Hermione as one of my friends, Seamus.’ Seamus looked disbelieving. ‘Shame someone else doesn’t,’ Ron added quietly under his breath, glancing to Harry’s bed. Seamus looked lost.

‘I don’t even want to get caught up in the little love triangle you have going on,’ he said, sincerely sounding as though he would like to get caught up in it.

‘Let me put it this way. There’s an old expression for the way Harry feels about Hermione.’

‘Platonic?’ Seamus suggested.

‘Head over heels,’ said Ron simply.

*

‘We’re here,’ said James, turning to Harry, Sirius and Peter. The large oak door to the Entrance Hall that stood at the front of Hogwarts was just behind him. Peter and Malfoy, having been silenced and stunned, were now floating along behind Remus, whilst he guided them with his wand. Again, he looked to Harry (who had removed the Cloak after stunning Malfoy) as though he’d rather be performing Unforgivable curses on the two of them.

‘Where shall we take them?’ Sirius asked.

‘Dumbledore,’ Harry replied, ‘he’ll know what to do.’ He was about to answer, when a patch of moonlight fell across the party.

‘Full moon tonight,’ said Sirius lazily. ‘Isn’t it Remus?’ He turned. ‘Oh no,’ he said softly, his face paling. ‘Oh God! Run! He didn’t take the potion that I made. Run!!’ Harry stepped back, and stared at Remus. He remembered back to his third year, when this had happened. Remus had started to shake, and fur was sprouting all over his body. His teeth were becoming longer, sharper, and his limbs were stretching. Harry stepped back, falling over a tree root. He looked around for Sirius and James, but they were gone. In their places were Padfoot and Prongs. Harry watched as the bronze stag that formed his Patronus raised its head and charged at the werewolf, which recoiled.

The werewolf sniffed the air. He could smell a human, and nearby. He had to get to it … but he could also smell other things. Smells that seemed to have been wiped from his memory in time, but had now returned in full force. It couldn’t be – but it was. The dog … and the stag. He remembered them. His friends … they would help him. It had been so long, so long since he had seen them.

He glanced up and noticed the stag blinking at him. The human smell had dissipated, but he hardly noticed. He was back with his friends … his old friends. He noticed the dog approach him. He softly nuzzled the dog’s neck, not a sign of affection but of respect, and trust. The dog pawed the ground softly, and returned the gesture.

Slowly, the three figures began to move across the grounds, away from the castle. This was another adventure; the werewolf remembered happily, this was another adventure with his friends. He padded up slowly towards the stag, which raised its magnificent head. It made a whining sound, and bowed at the werewolf, its personal gesture of respect. The wolf reacted by throwing back his head and letting out a long, low howl. The howl carried in the wind, across the tops of the trees, and echoed in the surrounding mountains.

*

Harry heard a howl from behind him. Remembering what Remus had said in the Shrieking Shack four years ago, he felt more confident that Sirius and James would be able to lessen his dangerous nature. The unconscious bodies of Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew glided slowly along behind him. Harry needed to tell Dumbledore.

After a few minutes, he reached the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore’s office. He remembered the last time he had been here, with Hermione. He had had to fight back tears, for seeing his friend so distraught had not been easy. Her parents had not even been killed by Death Eaters. It was Muggles – armed Muggles with (in Harry’s own opinion) no souls. He understood some things; why, he understood a lot of things. But why people would kill for no reason was beyond him. He remembered Dumbledore showing him the Muggle newspaper containing the report. He felt that people of that nature could truly have no existing soul – they were feats beyond reason. He sighed, and muttered the password.

He climbed up the familiar circular stone staircase in silence. How many times have I been up here? he thought. There had been happy times, sad times, and times that had infuriated Harry. There had even been times when Harry had not really been needed. Dumbledore’s office had provided Harry with more useful information than the rest of the school put together.

There was a possibility that Dumbledore would be asleep now – it was the middle of the night – but this couldn’t wait. However, to Harry’s surprise, he opened the door to find Dumbledore sitting at his desk, looking preoccupied, and softly stroking the top of Fawkes’ head. He looked unsurprised to see Harry there.

‘Good evening Harry,’ he said, s though Harry visiting him in the small hours of the morning was not uncommon. ‘Ah, I see you have brought some friends.’ The two unconscious men floated in after Harry.

‘Found Peter in Hogsmeade,’ said Harry quickly. ‘Malfoy turned up, so I stunned him too.’ Dumbledore looked interestedly at the bodies for a few minutes.

‘May I ask,’ he said slowly after a few minutes. ‘How exactly you managed to locate Mr Pettigrew?’ Harry bit his lip. He didn’t want Dumbledore to know about James.

‘I used the map,’ he said, figuring that he was not lying, just withholding certain truths. Then again, he reminded himself, that was a fairly good description of the process. Dumbledore fixed his with his piercing stare.

‘I see,’ he said, although his eyes twinkled, and Harry could tell he wasn’t fooled. ‘Well, I will escort these gentlemen to the hospital wing in due course. ‘Let me show you something first.’ He pulled from his robes a worn piece of parchment, that Harry could see was covered in ancient runes. He laid it out flat on his desk.

‘You may remember me saying some time ago, Harry, that Sybill Trelawney has made only two correct predictions in her life that have been of importance. You undoubtedly witnessed the second – her prediction of Lord Voldemort’s rebirth.’ He sighed, and ruffled Fawkes’ feathers. Fawkes stirred slightly, but remained still.

‘The first prediction was made by Professor Trelawney long ago. She made this prediction in a similar sort of trance to the one you described. That time, however, she recounted the details in the ancient language of Predactile. You may not have heard of this.

‘Now, most fortunately, this prediction was made in the presence of Atticus Davies, a former Minister of Magic. Davies was a very successful and popular Minister, and along his travels he had come into contact with Ancient Predactile. It took his years, but through his intelligence, integrity and determination, he was able to learn Predactile, the first wizard to do so for many centuries.

‘Davies was a contemporary and therefore good friend of mine. We studied periodically together at Hogwarts. Once, then, Davies was in the castle checking up on its state. This was in the days of Lord Voldemort, and I had recently hired Professor Trelawney, a recommendation of my old friend Nicholas Flamel, who I am sure you remember.’ His eyes twinkled and he dwindled down to silence for a few minutes. Harry sat in memories, mainly of his first year, when he had been deeply involved in the plot concerning Flamel’s prized possession.

‘On this day then, Davies was checking the Divination department when he heard Professor Trelawney talking to herself in her room. He climbed the ladder, and actually heard the whole of her prediction. As a man with a tendency to forget things, he hastily wrote down what he heard. Now, Professor Trelawney swears to this day that she does not remember this incident, and certainly never learned Predactile. But Davies only wrote what he heard. Therefore, he had written out the whole of the prediction in Predactile – it was an instinct.’ Dumbledore cleared his throat, and looked sombre for a few minutes.

‘However,’ he continued. ‘Davies died shortly after that incident. Very shortly, in fact. I had heard of the prediction he had written, but I could only find one half of the parchment he used.

‘I set about translating it. I, of course, had no idea as to what the Predactile meant. As I have said, Davies was the first wizard in centuries to speak it fluently. Not that he did, of course, as no one would have understood him. Therefore, I began to learn the language. Now, although you may think I have done a lot, you must consider that it has taken me over twenty years just to translate this small segment of text. I could go into gratuitous detail, but that is not required. I will show you the first part of the prediction. It is said that Davies, being a man who defied convention, actually translated the second part of the prediction before he died. If it was ever located, the key to the mystery would be solved.’ He turned and sat down behind his desk. He motioned for Harry to sit down, and laid out the piece of parchment.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘I know this is not one hundred per cent accurate, but it has most of the facts. Here.’ He passed the parchment to Harry, who scanned it carefully:

His shadow will exist.

‘That, Harry, is the first part of the prediction. You can clearly see that it was accurate. You are indeed the first-born son of the Stag and the Flower. It is rumoured that the rest of the prediction describes how the Voldemort will be defeated, though that may just be speculation.’

‘Sir? Can I just ask? Why are you showing this to me now?’

‘Because it is time for you to realise something of your past. You know, of course, that you are directly descended from Godric Gryffindor?’ Harry nodded. ‘Slytherin feared Gryffindor and his descendents, as does Lord Voldemort now. He – somehow – procured a copy of this prediction. He eventually worked out that ‘Flower’ was Lily, your mother.’ Harry tensed. ‘And ‘Stag’ was your father. I believe Peter Pettigrew was responsible for divulging that piece of information.

‘Therefore, when Voldemort was able to get to you and your parents after Pettigrew was made their secret-keeper, he came for you. He felt confident enough that he could disprove the prediction. But the rest, as they say, is history, and brings us to where we are now.’

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes. So that was why Voldemort had been so desperate to kill him – because of the prediction. A number of loose ends in Harry’s mind tied themselves up.

‘If the second prediction were ever found, it would explain a great deal. Still, as its whereabouts remain undetermined, we must prepare for what is ahead – things that may be unpleasant.’ Dumbledore lapsed into silence again, and once more attempted to awaken Fawkes, who still had his head under his wing. In Harry’s mind, something painful was occurring. He remembered his eleventh birthday – all those years ago – when Hagrid had told him of his parents’ demise. He remembered the vivid scene that flashed before his eyes – he saw it over and over again. The flash of light – the high, cold laugh – and then silence.

Dumbledore seemed to sense that Harry wanted to be alone.

‘I think,’ he said quietly. ‘I will return to bed. Maybe you should too, Harry. You must not dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.’ He bade Harry goodnight, stroked Fawkes one last time, and left for the adjacent chamber.

Harry didn’t really noticed how he got from Dumbledore’s office back to Gryffindor Tower. His legs just seemed to walk him back on their own.

His mind was still spinning with a million separate thoughts. All the tied loose ends had just untied, and were now floating around Harry’s mind, demanding answers. But one image particularly came floating back – the image of Hermione.

Harry remembered the death of his own mother whenever Dementors approached him, but now, as though it had been imprinted on his eyelids, all he could see was Hermione being struck down by Avada Kedavra. I won’t let them get you, he thought, as he lay down to sleep. They won’t get you Hermione; I’ll protect you. He rested his head onto his pillow and thought of James, dead but allowed to return. He pondered this for a few minutes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud scream.

Jody (Thanks a lot. Will do), Kelzery (This Kelzemort doesn’t scare me nearly as much as the state of your mental health *cackles* I’m just kidding. Thanks for the support, K), Anika of Prague (Thank you so very much), Ravenclaw Filly {1) (Marvellous pseudonym. Yeah, irony rules. Cheers), Ravenclaw Filly {2} (Yes, Cliffies are evil, aren’t they? Oh well. This was up as fast as I could manage), Virgo Ruben (Great pseudonym. Thanks very much. Read ‘The Paradigm of Uncertainty’ and ‘Draco Dormiens’, by Lori and Cassandra Claire respectively. Cheers), Nicole (Going AQAP. Thanks a lot), Good old Twilight and Silence (I love you, TS. Yes I do. Thanks. I know this isn’t as good as W, but it is good fun. Thanks a lot, as usual), someone2 (Thanks for another positive review. Thanks a lot) Biz The Insane Who Has Nothing Better To Do Than Read Fanfiction And Eat French Fries (Marvellous pseudonym. Isn’t it interesting to delve into the deep social standings of the youth of today? *Cackles* Thanks a lot.) illusions2525 (Would I joke about something as serious as bigheaditis? Oh yeah, I would. Cheers), The Frog (Oh, you made that astute little observation about Hermione. Well, I’d love to say sadistic amusement, but it wouldn’t be strictly true. Thanks), gumdrop (I love you. I really do. Smiley faces work on here *cackles* JJJ. ‘Wie geht’s’ means ‘How are you?’ in German. I know what you mean about the God forsaken dictionaries as well. Thanks a lot!), seraphim (One of my aims in writing this was to make someone feel sorry for Peter other than me. Woohoo! Hope you didn’t have an anxiety attack. Cheers), MischiefMagnet (You know, it’s incredibly satisfying when people say things like ‘This fic made my day.’ It’s a stimulant for excessive typing, too. Thank you), Kate (Nice and original pseudonym. And don’t be upset about Ron too much – he knows it. Well picked up on. You’re not the first person who’s said it’s confusing), Very naughty Little Witch (Hmm. Next part of WHmL, please. I love that story. Ooh, and Matchmaker. You’re an excellent author. You can use ‘Back to the Future’, if you want. I’m probably breaking several copyright laws as it is *Shrugs*. Cheers), Minerva (Wow! What an informative review. Thank you), Good ol’ House (You are too much of a star. TOO MUCH! You’re beating the ol’ spiky git by loads in the reviews tally. Hmm, unless I’m mistaken, you’re probably the first member of my own sex to review the story. Cheers, my man), Mayleesa (Thanks a lot. It took me a few reads to make sure it all made sense too. Thanks), patrick (No, Peter’s not getting killed {yet}. I need not answer you in W12, because I can do it now), Jenn (I’m very glad to hear it. Thanks for the positive review.) jj (How could I refuse to keep ‘em coming when you ask so nicely? Wow! That’s a first. A non-sarcastic sentence from me that could so easily have been. Amazing. Thanks), Chinook {1} (Stop it – you’re embarrassing me. *Cackles* Thanks, Chinook), Lavander (Let’s say I have good affinity with cliffies. Wow. Another one here. They’re such fun… Sorry this took so long; I know you’re a patient, regular reviewer. Cheers), Mladybug3 (Has this chapter made Hermione’s wondering more plain? Yes, I thought so. I love you too, obviously. You, gumdrop, T&S {I would say House, but he’ll taunt me endlessly with insufferable homosexual jokes – not worth it) Good old reviewers. Thanks), Genya Black (No, Peter is usually portrayed as mean and evil, sometimes whilst still at Hogwarts {Which IMHO is a load of rubbish} Thank you very much), Dragonessa Smith {1} (Hey, you have the same surname as me! Good for you {Andrew Smith is my real name, for those of you who really care}. It didn’t take me too long; I drafted it out before I wrote it. My friend inspired me. Cheers), Dragonessa Smith {2} (Hmm. I’m sure you haven’t reviewed for ages. What a varied vocabulary. Going AQAP, which is pretty slow what with school, piano exams and all. Thanks), Emily (Glad to hear you love it. That means I must love you for being such a good reviewer. Ha! Like I say, I’m going as fast as possible. Thanks), Chinook {2} (You’ll stalk me, will you? You’ll have to jet from Canada to London, and then get a train to Birmingham. Hmm, that’ll be a challenge. Still, if you really want to come after me, I’m not complaining. ‘Cause I love you. Hmm, I seem to be expressing my love for a number of ladies this evening. *Shrugs* That’s life. Thank you {x2}), Lilly Potter (Excellent! Another person who sympathises with Peter. Thanks), VIHPF5 (You reviewed just as I was going to upload this. Peter is not going to Azkaban … yet. I’m far too kind for that. Last but not least, you are. Thank you very, very much).

Bon giorno, fellow fanficcians. Due to a request from Kelzery, I’ve changed my Author’s note font to Times New Roman. This should make it easier to read.

In her dream, Hermione was floating through a forest, as though walking on air. She looked at the trees surrounding her and inhaled their sweet pine scent. She looked to her right. There was someone there, someone whose face she didn’t recognise. She moved closer to the shadow. A girl, well, a woman, was lying next to her. She looked around twenty-three, with dark red hair and bright green eyes. Hermione felt sure she knew this woman from somewhere. She turned, and saw that the woman was now staring at her, her green eyes large. Her hair looked bronze when she turned, and above her head rested a small, circular golden halo. She spoke softly.

‘Hermione,’ she said in a soft, misty voice, reaching out her hand. Hermione had no idea how this woman, well, angel, knew her name, but she took her hand. The angel smiled, and Hermione was suddenly struck by how beautiful she looked.

‘Hermione,’ she repeated slowly, turning and fixing her gaze once more on Hermione. ‘Tell me, tell me…’

‘Tell you what?’ said Hermione, finding her voice at last.

‘Tell me,’ the angel repeated. ‘Tell me…’ Her face was slipping slowly from view; she was moving away.

‘Tell you what?’ Hermione asked desperately. But it was too late. The angel had disappeared, leaving Hermione alone and confused.

Hermione carried on floating. She floated over trees and fountains, over moors and mountains (a/n #Following yonder star#). She came at last to a small cemetery. There were a number of small tombstones lying at her feet. She glided through the wrought iron archway, and came to a halt in front of a particularly elaborate gravestone.

It was indeed stone, but had been charmed somehow so that it was a green colour. Across the stone was a large yellow lightning bolt. Hermione suddenly realised whose grave this was, and she shuddered, moving closer.

Surrounding the stone looked was what looked like a small florist’s. There were flowers of every different colour and variety under the sun. Although, Hermione noticed, the greatest proportion seemed to be white Lilies. She smiled, and looked closer, squinting her eyes.

Hermione felt her heart catch in her throat. Who was Harry going to marry? The stone was worn over the name. She sighed, and looked to the bottom of the stone, passing over many of Harry’s triumphs, to where a small poem caught her eye:

‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ said a voice from behind her. Hermione turned, and this time recognised the speaker. He was tall, with unruly black hair and bright blue eyes, covered by a pair of spectacles. A large golden halo was also resting on his head. He was smiling from Hermione to his son’s grave.

‘James?’ she said uncertainly. ‘You’re an angel? But – you’re alive. Why are you here?’

‘Look at me, Hermione,’ he said, in the same misty tone of the female angel Hermione had previously spoken to. ‘I’m older here. Where you come from, I am still a teenager.’ She looked at him. He was right; his shoulders were broader, and more muscular. He was much taller, looking around six and a half feet. His bright blue eyes were shining over the rim of his rimless glasses. He smiled at Hermione.

‘You will return soon, Hermione. But I must warn you. You have to tell me …’

‘What?’ asked Hermione. ‘Tell you what?’

‘Tell me how,’ said James cryptically. ‘How he – tell me…’ He too, was now slipping from view. In desperation, Hermione grabbed at his robes.

‘Tell me,’ he replied. His whole aspect was changing. His robes were becoming darker, and his face was ebbing from view. Hermione felt the air around her become colder; she felt her breath catch in her chest. She looked up, and screamed.

A black, hooded Dementor was inching towards her, where James had been seconds before. She could see one hand protruding from under its black cape and saw it approach the side of her face. She was paralysed with terror – she didn’t have the bravery of Harry or James to be able to conjure a Patronus. She heard screaming, and then the Dementor lowered its hood. Hermione turned away, repulsed, but the Dementor spoke to her.

‘Hermione?’ it said urgently. ‘Hermione?’ There was familiarity in that voice. Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry’s green eyes staring back at her, over bright in the darkness. He looked pale and was shaking slightly.

‘Hermione?’ he said urgently. ‘Are you all right?’ Hermione could see the concern on his face. ‘You were screaming …’ She sat up slowly and noticed that Parvati and Lavender were staring at her. When they caught her eye, though, they returned to their beds.

‘I’m fine, Harry,’ she said, unsure of whether this was true or not. ‘It was just a nightmare … just a nightmare.’ Hermione sat up further and suddenly felt sure she could see someone hiding in the shadows of the room. She was also sure whoever it was winked at her, but then the shadow disappeared. Harry followed her gaze.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Who’re you looking at?’

‘No idea,’ said Hermione, though she was fairly sure who it had been. ‘I’m OK, Harry,’ she reassured him. ‘Honestly. Go back to bed.’

‘Only if you’re sure,’ he said softly. Hermione smiled.

‘I’ll be fine. Oh, by the way. How was your little … trip?’ Harry smiled.

‘A success, I think. But Remus just transformed.’ Hermione put her hand over her mouth.

‘Oh no!’ Hermione whispered, but Harry was still smiling.

‘It was all right,’ he reassured her. ‘Sirius and –’ He lowered his voice, ‘– James were able to sort out the situation.’ Hermione nodded, but suddenly gasped. If James had just transformed, and was now roaming the forest with Remus and Sirius, how on earth had he just appeared in her room? She shook her head. Maybe I was imagining things, she thought.

‘Dumbledore’s shut Malfoy and Peter up in the hospital wing,’ Harry continued. ‘They won’t be able to escape, even if Voldemort himself shows up.’ Hermione winced at the name, but overlooked it. She thought she’d have gotten used to it by now.

‘Well, I better be off,’ said Harry quietly. ‘Quidditch practice at some godforsaken hour tomorrow.’ Hermione laughed. Harry bent down and kissed her forehead. ‘Sleep well, Hermione,’ he said softly. He stood up, and watched, smiling, as Hermione lay her head back down onto her pillow. He drew the curtains around her bed, turned, and silently let himself out of the room.

*

‘Whassabloodyhell? Get off me.’ James was not a morning person, Harry had quickly discovered.

‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘You’re coming with me. I want to see this so-called Quidditch talent of yours.’ At this, James suddenly perked up.

‘Quidditch?’ he said. ‘Ooh, I may have to take you up on that offer.’ He jumped out of bed suddenly, and walked over to Neville’s wardrobe. He had been borrowing Neville’s clothes.

‘Were you OK last night?’ James asked worriedly, remembering how Remus had transformed.

‘Fine,’ said Harry. ‘Remus stopped being dangerous when both you and Sirius were with him.’

‘Yes,’ said James, remembering what they had told him about Harry’s third year. ‘On my own, I wouldn’t have been able to control him. Just as Sirius couldn’t back then …’ He smiled suddenly, lost in memory. ‘A Patronus,’ he muttered. ‘And you say it was a stag?’ Harry nodded, and James smiled. ‘My Patronus was a lion – the Gryffindor lion. I never discerned why exactly, but that’s what it was. I wish I could’ve seen you conjure it.’

‘I thought originally that you had conjured it,’ Harry replied, now smiling himself. ‘I was looking around for you when I suddenly realised that I’d seen me.’

‘The confusions of time-travel,’ said James, chuckling. ‘Come on then, I’m ready. Do you have a broom? I don’t think I can summon my Jet Force from twenty years ago.’

‘Jet Force?’ said Harry. ‘Hmm … I think the company that made them renamed itself. It’s called Coriolis now (a/n See The Paradigm of Uncertainty, chapter 1, by Lori).’

‘Yeah, so, do you have a spare?’

‘You can use my old Firebolt,’ said Harry retrieving it from his cupboard. ‘Sirius gave me that four years ago.’ James caught the broom, grinning broadly.

‘Now to you, this may be four years old; but to me, it’s twenty years advanced technology. Wow …’ He studied the broom carefully for a few minutes. ‘Nice.’

‘Yeah. This is my current broom – the Nimbus 3000.’ He pulled from out of the cupboard the most magnificent broomstick James had ever set eyes on.

‘Wow,’ James repeated. ‘Incredible. That must have cost a fortune…’

‘Sirius and Remus got it for me last year. For my seventeenth birthday …’ He noticed James wipe a few tears from his eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘Well – Lily and me – we were supposed to be there to give you presents – to see you grow up – not Sirius and Remus. We were meant to be there, to watch you – to look after you …’ He put his face in his hands. Harry sighed. He knew how difficult it was – he had suffered the pain for seventeen years. But he had never expected another person to feel, to really understand that pain.

‘Lily would have been a great mother to you,’ James continued, wiping more tears from his face. ‘She wasn’t just beautiful, she wasn’t just brave, but she was kind. She was a rare sort of person, the sort that comes along once every few years. You’re the sort of person she was, Harry. You have a number of my characteristics, granted. Looks, Quidditch, mischief – many of your external qualities. But inside you’re Lily. She was brave, kind, noble, caring, friendly …’ There were tears running down his face freely now, but he was smiling at Harry. He was smiling not as a friend, with respect, as Hermione and Ron did, but with pride, as a parent.

‘Lily would have been proud of you,’ he said, running a hand down Harry’s cheek. ‘So proud … you can’t really understand it from me in this form, your own age. She would have been so proud.’ Harry couldn’t say anything. The words were getting caught in his throat. For the first time, he actually realised that this man was not his friend; he was much closer than that. He had Harry’s same looks, same feelings, same blood …

Harry couldn’t help it. He felt the tears appear at the corner of his eyes, as James pulled him into a close embrace.

Harry had often wondered what it would have been like to be hugged by his father and mother. And, thanks to a time-turner and certain potions experiment going awry, he was able to experience the feat that, long ago, he would have thought was impossible.

*

‘You must be joking,’ said Seamus, shaking his head. ‘No offence or anything, Neville, but you’re useless.’ James grinned, giving Harry a sidelong glance.

‘I appreciate that, Seamus, but I was looking in this book. Turns out that when you become a person like this, you gain their abilities. Harry thought I should give it a go.’ Seamus still looked sceptical.

‘Look, Seamus, if Neville really is still rubbish, then I won’t play him. I’ve just got a gut feeling …’ He looked to James as though he was barely holding back laughter. ‘Right Neville,’ he said. ‘Seeing as this is your first training session, I’ll introduce you to the team. Seamus and Dennis are our Beaters.’ James nodded. ‘Our Keeper is Jennifer, I’m the Seeker –’

‘I don’t think we’ll ever hear the end of that,’ Seamus muttered to Dennis, who laughed. ‘What is it now, Harry? Seven years?’

‘Shut it, you,’ said Harry grinning.

‘Oh, but of course,’ said James. ‘My memory must be failing. You played in the first year, didn’t you Harry?’ He remembered Ron and Hermione telling him this when they had practically filled James in on Harry’s whole life. James had almost exploded when he heard how Harry had spent the first eleven years of it.

‘Yes I did,’ said Harry exasperatedly. ‘Anyway. I’m the Seeker, and our Chasers are Ginny, Natalie and Donna.’ James grinned at the three of them.

‘Such a pleasure to be working with three beautiful ladies,’ he said, smiling. Seamus laughed, and Harry raised his eyebrows, as Ginny, Natalie and Donna all blushed the scarlet colour of their Quidditch robes.

‘Anyway,’ Harry continued heavily, thinking that he had obviously not inherited his father’s gene for acting the way he did around girls. ‘Donna came to me last week, didn’t you Donna?’ Donna nodded. ‘She said she wanted to come down from the first team. Now –’

‘You’re part Veela,’ James interrupted, looking Donna straight in the eye. The rest of the team turned to stare at Donna, mouths open in surprise. Donna looked stunned.

‘How did – how did you know?’ she asked suddenly.

‘It’s instinct,’ replied James. ‘I can tell.’ Donna stared at him for a few seconds, before turning back and muttering something to Natalie. Harry looked interestedly at his father for a second, but then turned back to the rest of the team.

‘As I way saying,’ he continued hastily, noticing the uncomfortable atmosphere at that moment. ‘Veela or not, Donna wants to move to the reserves. I’d had no intention of putting her down, as she had no replacement. But, if you agree, Donna, I’ll put Neville in instead. That is, if he’s any good.’ James swiped at Harry.

‘Cheeky git,’ he muttered. Harry laughed.

‘Come on then, on your broomsticks. Time to go.’

*

‘You must be joking!’ Hermione and Ron were walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast. They had decided to go and collect some food and then walk down to see Harry. But Hermione hadn’t realised that she’d see someone else there as well.

‘Nope. Heard them this morning. Harry wants to try and get James into the team instead of Donna. And don’t even try and say that that’s sexism,’ he added, seeing Hermione’s look. ‘You and me both know that if Harry inherited James’ flying ability, James will be brilliant.’ Hermione opened her mouth, but conceded, realising that Ron was right.

The Great Hall was as busy as ever when Ron and Hermione stepped through its doors. They had barely sat down when Professor McGonagall came hurrying over to Hermione.

‘Miss Granger,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’m glad I caught you. I’ve finally found something that should be worth your while.’ She passed Hermione a small piece of parchment from inside her cloak. ‘This is practice for your coursework. You may ask Mr Potter and Mr Weasley for help,’ McGonagall continued. ‘Though it is very difficult. Good luck.’ She strode away in the direction of the High Table.

‘What is that?’ Ron asked, dumbstruck.

‘Practice Transfiguration coursework,’ Hermione replied. ‘It’s about Animagi … maybe I’ll ask Sirius on Sunday.’

‘Or James today.’

‘Oh, well, I’ll have a look at it first. But, Jesus, this looks hard.’ She glanced down at the instructions on her sheet. ‘You have to make the potion first – but that’s only part of it. Then you have to perform the spell – twice, so you’re sure it wasn’t fluke. Then you have to register. Oh dear …’ Ron, sensing a Hermione breakdown, put his arm around her shoulder.

‘Come on,’ he said kindly. ‘If they invented a spell that Peter Pettigrew can do,’ he spat out the word ‘Pettigrew’ as if it was poisonous, ‘then you’ll have no problem.’ Hermione smiled.

‘Thanks Ron. Come on, I’m starved. Pass me the sausages, would you?’

*

‘Wow,’ said James to Seamus, watching Harry up in the air. ‘He’s fantastic, isn’t he? I’ve never seen him in training before.’

‘Always has been, always will be,’ Seamus replied. ‘I remember the first time Harry flew. Magnificent – it was just worth seeing the look on Malfoy’s face, wasn’t it?’ James nodded quickly. ‘Still, he got a lot more than that.’ He smiled again, watching Harry glide in and out of the goalposts. James really was amazed. Sirius had described to him in sketchy detail how good a flyer Harry was. But he was much better than James had expected. He dived in and out of the goalposts, his broom moving at only the slightest touch. He noticed Harry dive and had a sudden urge to race him. He hadn’t flown well yet. He had flown poorly to tease Harry – like Seamus had said, it was worth seeing the look on his face. But now, he was ready for a race. Grinning at Seamus, who was looking smug after the remarks he had originally made, James mounted the Firebolt – which had also surpassed his expectations also – and kicked off. But then he noticed something that made him change course immediately.

*

‘Come on,’ said Ron, holding up two pieces of toast. ‘Shall we go and see Harry?’

‘Sure,’ said Hermione, finishing her kippers. Ron grimaced when he saw them – he hated seafood in general – and stood up.

They left the Great Hall, and walked into quite a crowded Entrance Hall. Ron, being as he was probably the tallest student in the school (except for maybe Harry and now James), looked over the heads of the interested onlookers to see what all the fuss was about. Hermione watched as he caught sight of something, and chuckled.

‘What is it?’ Hermione asked. However, as soon as she had spoken, a fifth year boy moved and she was able to see for herself.

Dancing Competition

In Hogsmeade, this Sunday, there will be a dancing competition for any interested participants. The dances are aimed purely at doubles. Anybody from Hogwarts interested in participating, please sign up at the bottom of this sheet.

Underneath, there were a number of names of interested students. Hermione turned to Ron, beaming.

‘We have to go to that,’ she said simply. Ron laughed.

‘Who’s we? You know full well that I cannot dance to save my life. Ask Harry. He’s hardly good, but he’s better than me.’

‘Yeah. I danced with Harry at the Ball last year. He is quite good. But I want to win.’

‘Oh, don’t start. We know you had dancing lessons and we know that you’re fabulous.’ He sighed. ‘But none of us are as good as you.’ Hermione sighed. Unfortunately, that was true.

‘You must be joking, Weasley,’ came a cold voice from behind them. ‘The Mudblood can dance?’

‘Shut up, Malfoy,’ said Hermione simply.

‘Where’s your bespectacled little hero friend?’ Malfoy drawled sardonically, ignoring Hermione. ‘Out trying to be good at Quidditch?’

‘Shut up, Malfoy!’ Ron repeated angrily, clenching his fists.

‘Or what?’ Malfoy sneered. ‘Going to do some magic on me, Weasel? Pfft. Pathetic.’ Ron went red, and Hermione had to stop him lunging at Malfoy. Malfoy laughed, and walked out of the front doors. Just as he was about to close the door, he turned back to Ron.

‘By the way, Weasel,’ he said spitefully. ‘I don’t think your attempts to impress the – Mudblood – went too well.’ He chuckled, and closed the door. Ron ran straight out after him, his ears and neck red. Hermione tried to calm him down, but to no avail.

‘You say that again, you scrawny rat,’ Ron hissed at Malfoy, after he had walked outside. Malfoy’s cheeks went a pink tinge, and he turned to face Ron.

‘What did you call me?’ Malfoy spat.

‘You know full well what I said,’ Ron murmured, looking at Malfoy with pure hatred. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then, as if by mutual consent, lunged at each other.

Hermione tried to break up the fight, but her attempts were futile. Ron and Malfoy were on the ground, rolling around in a whirl of fists. Ron had his hands around Malfoy’s neck, and Malfoy was kicking Ron in the ribs. Malfoy went purple for a few seconds, but was able to kick Ron off. He had a cut lip and a black eye. Ron’s hand was bleeding.

‘Stop it, both of you,’ Hermione snapped. ‘Stop acting like children.’ Ron turned to look at her, and instantly regretted it. Malfoy had dived at him again, and was now on top of him, punching every bit of him he could find.

‘See what Mudbloods do to your concentration?’ Malfoy sneered. He had said the wrong thing. With strength Hermione and, obviously, Malfoy had never seen, Ron threw Malfoy off. He grabbed him, and pushed him up against the wall, hard.

‘You filthy bastard,’ Ron said coldly. ‘If you ever say that – once more …’ Malfoy looked stunned. He hadn’t expected that. But then he put on his sneering impression again, and pulled out his wand.

‘Expelliarmus!’ he cried, pointing his wand at Ron. Now it was Ron’s turn to be taken by surprise. He was thrown backwards, and his wand flew to Malfoy. Hermione stood, frozen. She couldn’t do or say anything. Malfoy approached Ron, breathing hard, but looking triumphant.

‘I win, Weasley,’ he said, smiling. ‘I win. Now, it’s time for you to pay for your insolence.’ He raised his wand, but …

‘Stupefy!!’ came a loud and familiar voice from above Ron and Hermione. Malfoy fell instantly to the ground. He was out cold. Ron breathed a huge sigh of relief, and looked up.

James floated slowly down. Malfoy was out cold, and he looked in a bad way. He had a black eye, and a number of bruises forming. Ron looked no better. He had a cut lip and was massaging his ribs.

‘Dear me, you gave him quite a pounding,’ said James, eyeing Malfoy, and sounding impressed. He landed between Ron, who looked extremely grateful, and Hermione, who looked in a state of shock.

‘Thanks, James,’ said Ron, grinning. He noticed that James’ eyes were oddly over bright. ‘What?’ he added.

‘Oh, just remembering,’ said James quietly. ‘I had to break up Sirius and Snape like this all the time.’ Ron smiled.

‘Good timing, James,’ said Hermione shakily. ‘I couldn’t stop them … I just …’

‘You were mesmerised by the two good-looking lumps of flesh in front of you?’ James prompted, grinning. Hermione blushed.

‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘Not …’

‘Are you calling Malfoy good-looking?’ said Ron, amazed. James gave the unconscious Malfoy a sidelong glance.

‘Yes,’ he replied simply. ‘I’m not saying I like him, but –’ he stood over Malfoy. ‘He looks a lot like Sirius did. Except for the hair, obviously … I’ll take him to the hospital wing. Come on, Malfoy.’ He bent down and picked Malfoy up. ‘I’ll see you two in the common room.’

It didn’t take James very long to escort Malfoy to the hospital wing. He almost managed to give Madam Pomfrey a multiple heart attack before hastily explaining that he was Neville Longbottom, and not James Potter. He lay Malfoy down on one of the beds. The similarity between him and Sirius was striking. James hadn’t heard much about Malfoy from the others, except that he was "an insolent scrawny bastard" from Ron. He had known someone like that, a long time ago. Someone who had been cruel and obnoxious. But one small incident had changed him, even though he had never admitted it. James sighed. He wondered whether this Malfoy, too, was a good person inside an evil person’s shell.

He sighed, and turned to look around the ward. Peter and Malfoy, the two of them unconscious, were lying in the far corner of the room. The area they were in had been charmed, according to Harry. Those two weren’t going to be going anywhere for a while. He stopped smiling for a second as he spotted Peter. He still hadn’t discerned an answer as to why Peter had done what he had.

He sighed again, bade goodbye to Madam Pomfrey (who still looked rather pale), and left the hospital wing.

He decided to leave Harry to play Quidditch, and go back to the common room. He had (since he had attended one lesson) a large Charms essay to do, and supposed he could ask Hermione for help if he had any problems. Mind you, Ron had been complaining about his Potions work earlier on – Hermione could be helping him with that. He reached the portrait hole.

‘Afternoon,’ he said politely to the Fat Lady.

‘You know, I have trouble believing that you’re Neville Longbottom,’ she said sincerely. ‘James Potter was one of the few people who actually spoke to me apart from to say the password.’

‘I’ve turned over a new leaf,’ James replied smoothly. ‘Decapitate. Who thinks up these passwords, anyway?’

‘Don’t ask me, dear,’ said the Fat Lady, as she swung forward to give him access. James smiled, and entered. He looked around the empty common room, expecting to see Ron and Hermione working. But they weren’t there. Or that was what he thought. He suddenly noticed something on the floor in the corner, behind the large sofa, move, a flash of red and brown. He edged closer, somehow knowing what he was about to see. He leaned over the sofa and gasped inwardly. He had said to himself that he thought Ron and Hermione would be working. How very wrong he had been…

Ha ha! There we go! I never guaranteed H/H, did I? Well, I haven’t decided yet. How about I put it to vote? Yes, I think I will. If you’d like to see H/H, the word ‘pimple’ has to be cunningly hidden in a sentence somewhere in your review. It has to be ‘pimple’, and it has to be incorporated in a clever sentence. People who say ‘I’ll vote for pimple’ will be ignored. Use your poetic licence. People who want R/H have to say ‘Acromantula’, but again, it has to be cunningly concealed. Here we go then: