The Silver Millennium

Authors Note: This by far has to be the longest chapter yet, but only since it is two chapters combined into one really. In the next chapter finally Lady Napoleon (Hermione’s future self) will finally make an appearance, and that chapter will have to do finally with some H/Hr. Yeah, I know there hardly has been any H/Hr, but I can guarantee you it’s coming soon enough. Thanks for reading.

-|- Chapter Nine -|-

Jace and Pryce

The ride seemed to take longer than any of them had anticipated. By the end of the ride, Harry had studied the map so much he felt like he actually could direct someone somewhere himself.

Soon the road they were driving on disappeared, and they were surrounded all around trees. It was beginning to get harder to see since it was late afternoon and the sun would be setting soon.

Crunching noises were the only sound they could hear as the carriage wheels traveled over twigs and branches. Neither of the three of them had said a word since their agreement to go see the Time Maker; secretly and silently they were all wondering the same thing; if maybe this was a mistake, and if they were falling into one of Voldemort’s traps right now at that very instant.

Harry continually wrapped his hand around his wand, reminding himself to do whatever it took to protect his friends so that no one else would end up dead like Kaitlyn.

When the carriage came to a complete stop, it snapped Harry out of his dazing thoughts about what he would do if something did go wrong. Ron looked back rather nervously at Harry and Hermione.

“Uh…I guess,” he said with a bit of an uncertain air, “this is it…the number of trees are increasing and so is their thickness, so I think we’re going to have to hike from here. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, though he cast a worried glance out of his carriage window at the forest around them. “I suppose that’s the only option we have left, right? To hike to the Time Maker’s address.”

Harry opened his carriage door and jumped down onto the forest floor. Hermione crawled over to her right side, so that she could exit his door, too. Once the three of them were all outside, completely surrounded by trees, they started walking.

“You know,” Ron said thoughtfully as they walked, “I should have taken one of the Death Eater’s wands…”

“Yeah,” Harry said, realizing Ron was right, “you should have.”

They walked in the direction they were sure was the right one, once in a while getting their cloaks caught in branches sprawling on the floor. Soon as the minutes passed, their walk began to become an uphill one, because the floor seemed to be growing lopsided in an upward sort of way, making it more difficult for them to move quickly.

Soon the sun did set completely, and Harry and Hermione were forced to light their wands so that they could see. Harry could hardly remember another time when he was more alert than this, except for a few other situations. Every sound that was made around them, Harry would look suspiciously around, urging his eyes with all his might to see if anything was there.

He did have this weird feeling that they were being followed by someone, but after surveying around himself and not seeing anything, he decided that maybe it was just his imagination exaggerating. After all, he was overly worried about this situation, wasn’t he? Of course his imagination would be paranoid to any noise an animal was probably making.

“You see,” Ron said triumphantly to Hermione, “I told you nothing was going to happen. Hermione, you just have to learn to listen to me, because I’m usually always right.”

“Ron, shut up,” Hermione snarled acidly.

There was a loud howl suddenly, something similar to the howl of a werewolf. The three of them stopped dead in their tracks, and peered around them in instant apprehension.

“W-was that a werewolf’s howl?” Ron whispered, scared.

“I…I think it was,” Harry answered with uncertainty. He was peering in every direction between every tree for any possible view of a nearby animal with his wand pointed high as an extra precaution.

Again a very loud howl sounded off, sounding as if it were nearby. The three of them seemed to form a small circle with their backs to each other, each of them looking in a different direction, praying that their imaginations were indeed running away with them.

“I don’t see anything,” said Ron, “we’re imagining it.”

But oh how he was wrong. The next few events seemed to happen in a flash of lightening. For a third time they heard a loud howl of what sounded like a werewolf very close by. Shortly after this howl the creature that was making the noise came within view; the three of them screamed at exactly the same moment.

There it was between two very thick trees, its yellow eyes set straight on the three of them. It was bigger than the only other werewolf Harry had ever seen in person. With one quick movement the wolf dashed toward them.

All three of them were quite helpless as they turned to run, although Harry stopped running after just a few steps, deciding it was better if he tried to fight it himself while Ron and Hermione escaped safely.

“Stupefy!” Harry roared at the werewolf approaching straight for him. The spell left his wand, shooting straight for the werewolf; it struck it on it’s lower chest, sending it skidding backward.

Harry stood watching cautiously to see whether that had done the job, even though he was doubtful. He looked quickly over his shoulder to see where Ron and Hermione had gone off to, only to discover they were a few feet behind them. They had stopped running the moment Harry had stopped.

“Get out of here!” he shouted at them just as the werewolf got woozily to its feet, looking quite injured from the spell. “GET OUT OF HERE! BOTH OF YOU!”

He turned back around to look at the werewolf, realizing it had begun another gallop toward him in efforts to get some revenge. Harry held up his wand again, and shouted, “Envasato!”

This spell didn’t have as much of an effect on the werewolf as Harry would have liked; he was barely hit on the side, and it only paused his attack on Harry for about five seconds before the werewolf was again bounding toward him yet again.

“Take this you stupid werewolf!” Ron shouted from where he was, tossing a stone at the werewolf, hitting him right between the eyes.

“Ron, NO!” Harry yelled, angry at Ron and Hermione’s refusal to abandon him to safety. While he had his back slightly turned, the werewolf seemed to take advantage of this and race straightforward towards Harry, who was still the closest.

The werewolf leap onto Harry powerfully, knocking Harry easily backwards onto the floor, sending his wand flying far off into the dark distance of the forest. Harry opened his eyes again, because they had involuntarily closed when the werewolf had knocked him off his feet. He was staring straight into the face of a very angry werewolf; some of the saliva drooping from the wolf’s growling mouth dripped down onto Harry’s chest.

“HARRY!” he could hear Hermione scream as their footsteps headed toward him. “Cendia Censum!” Hermione screamed, sending a fireball at the wolf. It smashed into the wolf’s side, sending the wolf in a tumble howling in pain off of Harry.

She ran over to Harry fretfully, sliding down onto her knees next to him just in front of Ron, who too was looking concerned.

“Harry, are you okay? He didn’t bite you, did he?” she asked him, tears starting to fall.

“No,” he answered, his heart beating fast as if he had run three times the amount than he really had. He sat up just as Hermione hastily put her arms around him in fright and cried shakily. “I’m…I’m fine,” he whispered, “all thanks to you.”

Hermione looked up from his shoulder and smiled warmly at him about to reply; Ron cleared his throat from where he was. He gestured to where the werewolf lay, whimpering out of hurt from his big burnt on the side of his stomach. Hermione stood up sadly, obviously feeling very guilty for what she had done.

They went a few trees around the injured werewolf, and continued on their journey to reach the Time Maker, although loads more wearily than they were before.

“Can this day get any worse?” Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione. “Like seriously.”

“Somehow I get the feeling it might,” answered Harry dreadfully. His head was pounding from it hitting the ground so harshly when the werewolf knocked him down; his head was hurting so much his vision was a bit blurry, and it hurt him to think a lot.

On they went, seemingly like forever. They knew it had been way over an hour since they had started toward the Time Maker’s residence, but it was useless to go back now, because they knew they weren’t that far away. It was starting to get quite chilly, and their ripped cloaks weren’t the warmest clothing ever.

After what really did feel like more than the whole day put together, a small cabin came within view of them between some trees. A foul stench met their nostrils as they picked up their pace toward the cabin. Soon the trees blocking their view of the cozy looking cabin decreased, and there was nothing blocking the cabin from them except a very tainted looking swamp.

“I am not crossing that,” Ron said, crossing his arms, “no, sorry this is where I finally do draw the line in the sand. You two can if you want, but I am not going through that.”

“Look,” Harry said, pointing to the sides of the swamp, “there’s a bit of land on the sides…we could cross on that, so we won’t have to go on the actual swamp. C’mon.” He started toward the small strip of land on the edge of the swamp; Hermione followed secondly.

When the three of them made it safely to the other side and across from the reeking swamp, they broke into a fast run toward the cabin front door as if it were a race to reach the door first, although Harry reached it first, and knocked on the door gently.

No one answered.

“What now?” Harry asked them, wondering if maybe he should knock a little harder.

“Erm…knock again,” Hermione answered, “but this time a bit harder.”

While Harry was knocking for a second time, Ron walked over to the front window, and peered through it to see if someone was inside. He looked back over at them, and whispered, “lights are on, but I see no one…”

“We already know the lights are on,” Hermione said a bit meanly, “we could see that from far away, Ron.”

“Sorry, Hermione, I was just informing you in case you had not noticed,” Ron answered in a tone that was challenging her to an argument. He looked away from the window with his hands on his hips.

“Well, obviously we have,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Harry was ignoring their ongoing bickering, instead focusing on actually knocking loud enough for the Time Maker to answer, and yet not loud enough to sound intruding or rude. They stood out there for over two minutes before they could hear footsteps toward the door.

The door opened and they were staring into the face of the Time Maker. The man they were staring at was very tall, thin and had a long gray beard that was very tangled. He was wearing a monocle in front of his right eye, which was magnified greatly from it; the monocle looked rather old as if he had had it for years and hadn’t bothered to try and fix it. His hands were a bit shriveled and the nails on his fingers were disgustingly dirty.

He was gazing at the three of them as if he had never seen a human before, opening his mouth slightly in question. Harry decided maybe the Time Maker was waiting for him to speak, so he opened his own mouth to say why they were there. Just as he did, the Time Maker held up an index finger to signal for him to keep quite.

While he did this, he pulled out a pocket watch from his raggedy plum robes and looked down at it; Harry also looked down at it in curiosity. He was a bit disappointed at what he saw; it was just a normal pocket watch. The man pocketed the watch again, and looked somewhere past Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Er…hello,” Harry began awkwardly, “we’re…”

“I know,” interrupted the man, his voice raspy. He beckoned them closer. “Your in need of some Time.”

“No,” Ron answered a bit stupidly, “we need a Time Tur-“ But he stopped his sentence there, because Hermione elbowed him in the ribs to shut up. He rubbed his stomach in pain, and gave a glare that threatened he wasn’t afraid to argue with her right there.

“Yes,” she answered, ignoring Ron’s glare, “we are in need of some Time.”

“Then follow me, please,” remarked the Time Maker. He turned away from them, and walked away from the door; they followed him inside.

His house walls were covered in nothing, but clocks in all sizes and colors, some with numbers, some without numbers, some with strange symbols on them, while others with numbers had numbers like 2000 or 2050. They were some of the strangest clocks Harry had ever seen, yet the one with words like, “Death Eaters”, as a hand of a clock and instead of the numbers there, a city (like Googlewalsh, for example) replaced it, dearly intrigued Harry and he thought that actually wouldn’t be hurtful to have.

There was very little furniture in the room, except a very miniscule coffee table with a cup and a few candy wrappers. Next to the very miniscule coffee table was a decent sized plum colored armchair; the cushions of the armchair looked as if some sort of animal had chewed on them. The lilac colored carpet floors were also grimy, appearing to have not been washed for ages. Littering these carpet floors were newspapers spread out every so often as if to cover spills. The only other doorway besides the one to exit, was what apparently led to three other even smaller rooms, but weren’t very visible from where they stood on account of the only source of light being the lantern hanging from the ceiling of the room they were already standing in.

“It stinks in here,” Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione, “what pets does he have? Goat? Donkeys? Both? Ugh…”

“Ron…” Hermione nagged.

Trying not to be too nosy or rude, Harry walked over to where the Time Maker was standing. He didn’t want to be pushy at all, but they really needed that Time Turner before some other bad thing happened. He looked up at the Time Maker, desperate to get the man to at least look at him before he spoke.

“Erm…we need you to…” Harry started, but stopped when the Time Maker nodded his head no. “Um…you are the Time Maker, aren’t you? You can make Time Turners, can’t you?”

The Time Maker looked down at Harry for the first time since Harry had approached him. A very thin smile formed on his face as he studied Harry’s face. Harry began to wonder what the man was thinking.

“You need a Time Turner,” he repeated as if he hadn’t heard him correctly. “Because you need to get back before more Death Eaters and Dark Imperial guards attack you.”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, giving him a hopeful stare, “please?”

The Time Maker didn’t say anything to him or even do anything besides continuing to stare at him, almost as if Harry was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his life; Harry couldn’t help but start to feel a bit impatient towards the Time Makers slowness.

“Time only appears to matter when it’s running out,” the Time Maker said at last. He turned away from Harry and started walking to the wall full of clocks on their right; Harry followed him like a kid would do when persistently following their parents for something.

“I guess,” Harry answered, feeling as if maybe this whole thing was a huge waste of time. He looked over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione; they were watching silently from where they stood.

“Guessing is for fools,” he mumbled grumpily, stopping at a very small clock with small weather pictures on it, like raindrops and clouds or a shining sun; right now it was on a picture of a full moon.

“Look,” Ron said from where he stood, “can you help us or not? We’re in a bit of a hurry, you see. We need to get out of this time period!”

The Time Maker tutted his tongue in shame, finally turning around to face the three of them, still remaining with his hands behind his back; Harry wondered with deep annoyance why he had to take so long to speak every damn time.

“Time only appears to matter to you when it’s running out,” he repeated dully.

“Look, Mister…Time Maker,” growled Ron, his voice now seething with complete aggravation, “if you don’t want to help us just say so! This way we can stop wasting our time in this reeking house!”

“Ron!” Hermione gasped, looking at him in disbelief for his amount of disrespect.

“I was just saying what we were all thinking!” Ron shouted, crossing his arms.

“To go back to your time you will need a Time Turner,” commented the Time Maker, “but as you probably know, there are no more Time Turners for possession of citizens. However, for this case I will make you one. Only one. But, it will take me the night.”

Ron groaned.

“The night?” Harry said, shocked, “the whole night?”

“It will take the night,” he repeated, “you may leave if you’d like or remain here to wait. That is your choice. I will be preparing the Time Turner now.” He turned around and exited the room through the only other doorway besides the front door.

The three of them waited until he was gone, before they broke out into conversation over whether they wanted to remain there or go somewhere else.

“Where else can we go?” Hermione asked them sensibly, “we are surrounded by a huge forest I remind you, by the time we make it back to the carriage it’ll be well into the night, almost daylight probably with how tired we are.”

“I’d rather do that than stay in this foul smelling house,” Ron said mulishly, “and besides he’s just too weird for my liking. Time only seems to matter when it’s running out.” Ron rolled his eyes once he was done mocking the Time Maker.

“I think we should just stay here,” Harry agreed with Hermione, “I honestly don’t feel like another long hike right now.” His head was still pounding from that nasty fall the werewolf had caused him.

“Then it’s settled,” Hermione concluded, “we stay here.”

“Fine,” Ron snarled, “but I get to sit in the armchair!” He dashed competitively toward the armchair as if it were a competition to see who could reach it first. When he did reach it, he sat down on it with a face that clearly said he was ready for sleep.

Hermione walked over to where Ron was sitting, pulled out her wand, and conjured an even more comfortable armchair next to his, hers with a quite comfortable pillow, too. When Ron seen Hermione’s armchair, his face was overcome with a pitiful glower.

She sat down neatly onto her armchair, a triumphant smirk unwillingly spread across her mouth. “You see, Ron, you got what you wanted…I got what you really should have wanted,” she teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Ron murmured, trying the best he could to fit comfortably in his armchair for a good nap. He put his hand under his head in place of a pillow. “Can I ever win? Humph, it’s no fair. You got what you wanted…I got what you really should have wanted.” Mocking Hermione seemed to content him enough for revenge, and he fell asleep.

Harry watched them with a grin as they both settled down to sleep. He turned away from both of them when they had indeed fell asleep, and stared out the front window of the cabin; he wasn’t going to let himself fall asleep in case something bad happened. He knew he couldn’t afford to take the risk.

- | -

Sunlight breaking through the crevices of the curtained cabin window, landed on the closed, resting eyes of Harry Potter. Fluttering for a few seconds, Harry’s eyes eventually opened to the bright room around him, realizing it was daylight. He sat up from where he lay slumped on the grubby carpet floor.

A sudden panic struck through Harry when it dawned upon him that he had indeed fallen asleep last night despite his determination not to. His eyes darted over to the two armchairs where his friends were sleeping, and the panic died away when he seen that they were definitely still there.

Harry was surprised when he noticed that Hermione had just gotten up a few seconds after him.

“Morning, Harry,” she said tiredly.

Harry smiled and went to say something back, but found he blushing. Hermione looked over at Ron sleeping in his armchair, and threw her pillow at him to wake up.

Ron sat up slowly from his dingy armchair, his eyes puffy and his hair tousled. He blinked at them gruffly.

Just then the Time Maker entered the room, looking just as he had last night when he had disappeared to go make the Time Turner; the three of them spotted his hands free of a Time Turner, and felt all of their hope seep out of them.

“Is…is it ready?” Harry asked, knowing he was being a bit too clear-cut.

The Time Maker reached into his pocket and retrieved a very beautiful looking futuristic Time Turner so that Harry, Ron, and Hermione could see it. Harry held out his hand to take, but the Time Maker didn’t hand it over.

“Remember only one is what you get,” he reminded, “only one.” He dropped the Time Turner into Harry’s hand gently. “To use this Time Turner you must head to Caligo Valley, for it is the only place besides Lord Metropolis where the use of Time Turners are allowed without any known record being recorded.”

Harry pulled out the map they had gotten from the old woman on the side of the road, and searched for Caligo Valley on it. At first he was going to say there appeared to be no Caligo Valley, until he noticed it was just a very tiny piece of land not too far off from the forest they were in now. He rolled up the map and pocketed it.

“Okay,” he said, “Caligo Valley, right.”

“Farewell,” he said with a nod, “we will meet again when the Time comes.” He turned away, and left the room once again, leaving them in an awkward sort of silence.

“Anyway,” Ron mumbled, “let’s just go now. I think his weirdness is starting to rub off on us. I can’t believe I once thought Luna Lovegood was the strangest person on the earth. I have been proven wrong so much.”

 

They left the cabin, crossed the side of the smelly swamp, and started back downward this time toward the exit to the forest, barely feeling rested at all. Harry couldn’t understand why they just couldn’t use the Time Turner right there; he didn’t care if it would be reported back to the Voldemort, because after all they would already be back in the past.

The walk downward seemed to take almost as long as the one the night before, and the worst part was that it was late morning and too warm for their liking. Ron got so hot at one point; he took off his cloak and left it near a tree, refusing to carry it around.

An hours worth of walking trailed by eventually. Harry’s grip on his wand had started loosening, but then crunching noises became audible from somewhere near off. The three of them stopped, all feeling an equal dose of horror at what else could possibly happen to them.

“What was that?” Ron moaned, making a scrunched up face as if a spoonful of nasty medicine had just been shoved into his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, “it sounded like footsteps walking nearby on some twigs or something. Do you think…?” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I think it’s nothing,” Ron said, but he secretly crossed his fingers, “yeah, nothing.” He gave a very nervous cackle. “Let’s just keep going and get the hell out of this forest.”

Harry was at least glad that it was brighter today than it was the night before, so if something or someone was sneaking up on them, he could see it loads better than when the werewolf had attacked them.

The noise sounded again, this time sounding like running footsteps instead of walking. Harry comprehended that it was footsteps of two separate people instead of just one. He pulled out his wand, his senses on the extreme alert; he could feel his heart beginning to pound hard out of anticipation.

Then, so not expectantly, even more unexpected than the werewolf appearing from between the trees the night before, an arrow soared from between some trees behind them, heading straight for the direction where Hermione was standing. Harry’s instincts had heard the arrow coming two split seconds before, and drastically pulled Hermione out of the way. The arrow struck straight into the tree next to Hermione instead.

“What the…” began Ron, but Harry silenced him as he gestured for Ron to get down, too.

Footsteps were heard as the shooters apparently tried to get a better position to shoot this time. For a second time an arrow came towards their way, but this one was way off.

“We have to figure out where it’s coming from,” Hermione whispered, looking both ways around her.

“There!” Harry shouted, jumping up to get better aim. “Stupefy!” he yelled.

He missed. The figure skillfully flipped sideways out the way of his stunning spell. Harry searched around the area where the figure had disappeared for them, so that he could send another spell.

“LOOK OUT!” Hermione screamed.

Another arrow, this time a much longer arrow was sent flying Harry’s way. Before Harry had time to move, it struck him right in the shoulder. He stumbled backwards, almost instantly feeling woozy.

“Jivipelo!” Hermione screamed, desperate to at least take out one of the shooters. Apparently she missed as well; Ron picked up a rock just in case one of them came into view. Hermione turned back to Harry, and said, “Harry, Harry, are you okay?”

Harry wasn’t able to answer that at first, because he was seeing three Hermione’s, three Ron’s, actually he was seeing three of everything. He shook his head unsteadily, trying to stop the dizziness. “No,” he answered, “I’m not…”

“What do we do?” Hermione cried hysterically, quite unlike her usual manner; she seemed to be panicking, because the footsteps could be heard running around them again, dunking in and out of trees to get better aims at them.

“Run!” Ron suggested. He grabbed Harry by the upper arm, pulling him to his feet, and the three of them started running unwisely in any direction at all. “I think this is the right way!”

The whooshing noise of another arrow was perceptible from behind them, almost chasing them hungrily. They turned sharply and spontaneously out the way to dodge the arrow, which ended up sticking straight into a tree.

It was beginning to become quite difficult for Ron and Hermione to help Harry run with each of them holding one of his arms, because he had started to get more and more sleepy. Hermione finally gave up on trying to escape, when a short arrow narrowly missed Ron. She held up her wand, looking carefully around while Ron almost tripped, because of Harry’s lack of steps.

Predictably the shooters sent an arrow for Hermione, but she blasted it easily into shreds. Her hazel eyes spotted running legs from between two trees, and she caught a glimpse of the person’s head.

“Astranous Rectropum!” she roared, sending a purple colored spell at the figure she had caught a quick glimpse of. There was a groan, then the noise of a body hitting the forest floor.

“You hit him!” Ron exclaimed, forgetting about Harry who was still drifting slowly into sleep.

“Her, arse-hole,” growled a female voice that suddenly came into view from behind a nearby tree. She was just about the same exact height as Ron with shoulder length curly brown hair, and mean eyes. She was dressed in almost camouflage colors it seemed to the forest with a black cape, brown corduroys, brown boots, and an odd colored blouse.

“Who are you calling arse-hole?” Ron asked, stunned. Both Ron and Hermione were looking quite confused at what was going on.

“You, arse-hole,” she said as if she had not been trying to attack them a few seconds ago. She disappeared once again behind a tree, before she appeared looking angered. “You blasted my sister,” she said angrily to Hermione.

“You shot my best friend!” Hermione pointed out, “not to mention nearly shot my other best friend and me! What the hell were you expecting us to do? Raise a white flag for peace?”

“Yeah!” Ron agreed with an avid nod.

“That arrow…it wasn’t full of poison…just sleeping anesthetic, there’s nothing to worry about. But my sister, look what you’ve done to her. And it isn’t as if it’s fair,” the lady said, kneeling down next to her unconscious sister.

“Listen here, you crazy lady,” Ron said in disbelief, “you were attacking us from behind trees, you shot Harry, you damn near shot us too, you are insane and you deserved what you got! And as for unfair, ha!”

“Just forget about it,” Hermione said, “we have better things to be doing. C’mon, let’s try to wake up Harry so that we can get out of here.”

“And go where? Back to your palace?” spat the lady, tapping the face of her sister to wake her up.

“Palace?” Ron repeated, “You got some nerve.”

“Yes, palace,” snarled the lady, setting down her crossbow next to her, “what do you have memory lost or are you just thick? You heard me, arse-hole.”

“Maybe I’m not the thick one,” Ron argued, “maybe you are on account of that we don’t live in a palace. We’re from the past, you mannish lady!” He gripped the rock in his hand slightly tighter just in case.

“Ron!” Hermione shouted at Ron’s inability to keep a secret.

“The past? I don’t believe that for one second,” replied the lady, “it’s all a lie for you people. I knew he wasn’t dead. And I knew you weren’t either. You just said you were dead, so that you could secretly join the Lord’s side. I’ve suspected all along.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ron asked, utterly confused now.

“Ron, let’s just go,” Hermione said, walking over to where Harry was now fully asleep on the floor. She stooped down next to him to try to get him to wake up while Ron continued his argument.

“We’re from the past, lady,” Ron said, “doesn’t it strike you odd that we look like we’re sixteen years old? That’s, because we are. And besides, I’m not dead and neither is Harry.”

“Prove it,” said the lady.

“Does a Time Turner help enough?” Ron asked her, “would that get you to believe us? We’re really from the year 1996.”

“You’re not really alive living with the Dark Lord in his palace?” the lady said, looking a bit daunted by the news.

“No,” Ron said.

“Oh. Sorry, then,” she apologized, standing up and walking over. She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Jace Dwindlen, but you can call me Jacey, if you’d like.”

Ron shook her hand, a bit surprised by the firm grip of her hand and the sudden change of heart by Jace.

“Tell Harry Potter we’re dearly sorry,” she continued, releasing Ron’s hand, “we attack anyone whose suspicious and we thought you were. We usually aren’t accustom to people passing through this forest…our home. She, lying knocked out still, is my un-identical twin sister Pryce. She’s blind.”

“What’s going on?” Harry groaned, putting a hand to his head, “what the hell happened?”

“You were hit with an arrow,” Hermione explained, “by…by Jace and Pryce. They thought we were from the present and allies of Voldemort.”

“Oh,” Harry said simply, still feeling dizzy. He took Hermione’s hand as he tried his best to stand up. He felt as if he had been sleeping for over an hour. Shaking his head and trying to focus his eyes on one person more clearly. “Right,” he managed to say.

“Like I said, very sorry,” Jace said with a strict nod. She walked over to Harry, holding out her hand for him to shake. “Jace Dwindlen…but I’m afraid the person that shot you with that arrow was the doing of my blind twin sister Pryce. She’s unconscious on the floor, but she sends her full sentiments and apology, I’m sure.”

Harry shook her hand, still not fully comprehending what Jace was saying to him. When he released her hand, he slanted sideways into next to him, hitting himself unwittingly against it.

“Maybe you should keep sitting down,” Hermione suggested to Harry kindly, feeling sorry for him for what trouble he was having. “I suppose I should apologize for what I did to your sister.”

“No need to apologize,” Jace said, waving her hands in the air; her hands were covered in some kind of furry hide skinned gloves. She scratched at the back of her head, and replied, “can we give you all a lift to where you’re going? You look like you could use it.”

“Erm…yeah!” Ron exclaimed, not negotiating it with Harry or Hermione.

“Great,” said Jace, clapping her gloved hands together, “I’ll get our wagon. You don’t mind watching Pryce, do you?”

“Um…no,” Ron answered, looking a bit awkward. “So, you really do live in this forest? Where? How? Why? I mean why, because of all the places to live, a forest?”

“We live here, because the home we used to live in as youthful children was burnt down by drunken Death Eaters on a murder spree at the age of 12. Our parents were also killed in the fire,” Jace explained, looking serious and a bit offended by the carelessness of Ron’s question. “I’ll be back.”

She turned away from there and disappeared between some trees, her crossbow still in her hands. Hermione turned over to Ron with very thinned eyes, her attention set on him only.

“Why did you do that?” she asked him.

“Why not do that?” he asked back, teasingly.

“Ron, we don’t know them. For all we know this could still be a trap,” Hermione said attentively, “remember we can’t trust everyone we meet. And somehow I don’t think getting into strangers wagons is quite safe and on the cautious side! Especially with people that attacked us with crossbows and bow and arrows and claim that they thought we were the enemy! We can’t afford to trust them, Ron. I don’t think anything good of it can come.”

“Ah, Hermione, if Jacey was leaving to set up a trap, then why would she leave us with her blind, unconscious twin sister? This isn’t a trap,” Ron disagreed, “I have a hunch we can trust them.”

“Yes, and your hunches are always right,” Hermione retorted sarcastically, “like your suspicions of Snape’s conspiracy to betray us all, your agreeing hunch that Sirius was really captured by Voldemort, and let’s not forget the whole hunch that Viktor Krum is a no good bastard you insistently speak of.”

“Hey,” Ron said in his defense, “I’m totally right about that Snape theory. Just watch. He’s probably drawing up death scheme sketches right now as we speak. Probably planning to do Voodoo on Harry with some sort of doll with a scar on it’s forehead.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as rustling noises sounded. They looked over to see that Pryce was finally awakening. Although she was blind, she opened her eyes anyway, revealing very beautiful crystal bluish green eyes that honestly did have to be some of the most magnificent eyes any of them had ever seen.

Pryce was definitely a bit shorter than Jace, although she still had fair length curly brown hair. Her face was somehow more feminine than her sisters and much prettier, too. Instead of having her sisters square jaw expressions, her facial expressions were more serene. Her eyes stayed straight in front of her, not moving at all as her hand reached out around her for her bow and arrow.

“Erm…your sister, Jacey,” Ron said as Harry made another attempt to stand, feeling that he had again regained strength, “went to get your wagon. She’ll be right back.”

Pryce stood up fully, her eyes still set on the forest floor somewhere past both Ron and Hermione. “My sister,” she said, her voice not surprisingly a very soft and low one, “went to get our wagon?”

“Yes,” Hermione answered, just as Harry walked over to them. “She’s going to give us a lift. But she wanted you to say here, I presume. By the way, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hermione Granger.”

Hermione walked closer, holding out a hand for Pryce to shake. Pryce, who was dressed slightly different from her sister (but in the same colors) was wearing a black cape, brown skirt, knee length brown boots, brown stockings, and also a quite odd colored blouse along with the same type of gloves as her sister, didn’t take Hermione’s hand.

“Back,” came the voice of Jace as she pulled up in a very small and inexpensive looking wagon. She hopped off the front row, onto the forest floor to walk over to the four of them.

“What’s the wagon for?” Harry asked, who had missed half of the conversation.

“She’s taking us to Caligo Valley,” Ron explained, walking toward the carriage, “it’ll be much quicker by this small wagon…and this wagon can fit through these gaps of the trees much better than that big carriage could.”

“Have you gone insane, Jace?” Pryce asked, still her eyes remaining on the forest floor, “why would you give them a ride? Why would you give enemies a ride in our wagon? I refuse to take part of this.”

Ron stopped in his tracks, just so happening to stop close to Pryce. He reached out his hand to put onto Pryce’s shoulder as he said consolingly, “don’t worry, we’re not enemies.”

It seemed Pryce did not like Ron’s hand on her shoulder at all or was alarmed by it, because a split second later, she swung out her leg tripping Ron backwards onto the forest floor, before she pulled out an arrow from the sack of arrows slung over her shoulder. She aimed the arrow with her bow and arrow straight at Ron’s chest threateningly, pulling back the string of the bow and arrow, ready to fire.

Both Harry and Hermione immediately brandished their wands at Pryce, just as threateningly, ready to fire if Pryce took one shot at Ron; Jace seemed to be in total franticness of how the situation had gone so badly so quickly.

“No, Pryce, put down your bow and arrow! Ronald Weasley isn’t a threat…trust me. He’s from the past,” Jace said, “Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, same for you. And, Ronald Weasley, don’t touch Pryce without her consent, because then this will happen. Pryce doesn’t like anyone to invade her space unless she trusts them.”

“Gotcha,” Ron croaked from where he lay sprawled on his back on the forest floor, “Somehow I think I’ll remember that one.”

Jace outstretched her hand for Ron to take. He appreciatively took hold of Jace as he pulled himself back onto his feet.

“I refuse to trust these people,” Pryce said, forever it seemed her eyes would stay glued to the floor, “they are not allies. Don’t treat them as allies of us.”

“Pryce, they are from the past here to help us rid the evil, they are not here to help spread it,” Jace told her in a very quiet voice, “if they were here to harm us, they could have done so when I left you alone with them. They have proved their loyalty, let us prove ours.”

For a few seconds Pryce didn’t say anything; she seemed to be contemplating agreeing with her sister or not. Finally, she sighed and nodded her consent. She took the arrow from the bow and arrow and put it safely back into her sack slung around her back, even if she looked quite penitent for doing this.

“Great then,” Jace commented, “follow me.” She led the way to the dreadfully small wagon, before turning back around at the four others. “Erm…I’ll drive, Harry you can sit up front with me. Hermione, Ron, Pryce, you all can squeeze in, in the back.”

And so the five of them got into the wagon, Ron looking a bit sour about having to be so squashed in the back, when he really wanted to be in the front. He especially seemed to hate the fact that he was in the middle, meaning he was the one that had to sit next to Pryce.

“So your twin sister, Pryce…she’s blind?” Harry asked Jace as they started on their way; Ron, Hermione or Pryce didn’t hear the question he was asking Jace, because they had just begun arguing over space.

“Yes,” Jace answered, swerving delicately out the way of a tree, “she was born partially blind.”

“Oh, so then she’s not fully blind?” Harry understood, nodding.

“No, she is. She was born partially blind for the first half of her life until the fire that killed our parents and nearly killed us. When we were rushing toward the exit, a kerosene lamp hanging from above fell on her and glass and some shale oils shattered and spilled into her eyes, causing her to go permanently and fully blind,” Jace said, sadly.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry apologized.

“Don’t be…at least not to me,” Jace said, shrugging, “if anything my sister is better blind than she was partially blind. She’s a heck of a bow and arrow shooter for her disability and a good hunter at that, too. She may seem a bit too erm…introvert, but she’s a caring person at the end of the day.”

Harry nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder at the three people arguing in the back. He grinned at the way Ron’s face was growing tomato red from anger, almost matching his hair exactly.

“Look I’m moving over as much as I can,” Ron growled through clenched teeth, “maybe if you hadn’t eaten that last squirrel for dinner, you’d be able to sit here more comfortably.”

“I don’t eat squirrel,” Pryce replied, her eyes off somewhere staring at the distance of land, “I do eat weasels, however. I love hunting weasels.” Her hand moved closer to her bow and arrow ominously.

“Message gotten,” Ron mumbled bitterly.

Harry turned all the way back around, his grin still existing on his face. He was feeling loads better from that arrow hitting him in the shoulder, and he was just thankful that it hadn’t been poisonous.

“So, you never go to any of the cities here in the Silver Millennium Kingdom? You just stay in the forest,” Harry asked her, looking over at her for an answer. He was very curious about the both of them, a bit suspicious actually.

“Um…no, not really,” Jace replied, looking indifferent, “we’re not city people anymore. Besides we used to live in Oxford Village, probably the poorest place in this Kingdom, so we’ve never been the high-class type. Anyway, why so many questions?” Her voice seemed a bit nervous.

“No reason,” Harry responded, “just curious.”

“Uh huh,” Jace said, an eyebrow rising.

The ride to Caligo Valley was no more than forty minutes before Jace was pulling the wagon to a complete stop in front of an old rusted sign that read in deeply bold red and slanted letters, “Caligo Valley”. Jace jumped out of the wagon easily while everyone else decided to climb out and hop down onto the floor more gently.

“Well, guess this is it,” she said, sadness creeping up in her voice before she cleared her throat. “You know it probably sounds really pathetic to say this, but I wish you all didn’t have to leave so soon.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ron in a skeptic voice, eyeing Pryce’s bow and arrow fearfully. “We’re so going to miss you both, too.”

Jace let out a chuckle before she punched Ron in the arm playfully, yet she did it with such might Ron looked startled and alarmed, until he realized it was teasingly; he grinned a bit sourly as everyone laughed except Pryce.

“Nice to meet you both,” Hermione said graciously, shaking Jace’s hand first, then Pryce’s hand. She gave them a smile as she remarked, “again sorry about that spell.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jace said.

“Well, thank you for the ride,” Harry thanked, also shaking both Jace’s firm grip and Pryce’s looser grip hands. He pocketed both his hands when done shaking theirs, and smiled uneasily. “Erm…guess we’ll be going now.”

“If your ever in the future again, drop us a notice, will you?” Jace asked with a wink, “not a spell though, and we’ll try to shoot no arrows at you.” She laughed at her own comment.

“Hahaha,” Ron laughed along, forcefully, “so hilarious.”

Jace and Pryce stood there as Harry, Ron, and Hermione officially passed the Caligo sign, so that they were officially in Caligo Village. As Harry prepared the Time Turner to go back, Jace and Pryce finally turned away and started walking back toward their wagon. Jace gave them one last nod as they disappeared back down the road in their wagon.

Harry stood there knowing he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to the past when there was so much chaos here, but he couldn’t stand staying here with Ron and Hermione putting them into so much risk. As the final five seconds before the Time Turner took them back to the past, Harry decided what he was going to do.

Just as it was a split second before taking them back to the past, Harry stepped away from Ron and Hermione quickly. A moment late both of them disappeared back into the past without any time to object to what Harry had just done. Harry stood there breathing deeply with his eyes wide open, disbelieving that he had just done that. But still he knew why he had. Harry turned away from the spot where his best friends had disappeared, and started walking the way they had come. He knew where he was going; he was heading straight for Lord Metropolis to come up with a scheme to destroy Voldemort once and for all.

Authors Note: Before anyone worries about Harry possibly getting involved with Jace or Pryce, don’t…I can assure you that nothing will happen between him and either of them. Actually nothing will happen between him and anyone else in this story (besides Kaitlyn, but she’s dead) except for our dear Hermione. Anyway thank you for reading. Please review on this preposterously huge chapter.