Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. This story was written for fun, not profit.
Future Imperfect
Chapter Three
"You can bury your dead,
But don't leave a trace.
Hate your next door neighbor,
But don't forget to say Grace."
-- Barry McGuire, "Eve of Destruction"
the present
Neville, Ginny and Luna made it to Hogwarts' entry before one of the Aurors caught up with them. Halfway to the doors, a hand closed on Neville's shoulder and he found himself spun around to face a glowering man in plain work robes.
"Where do you think you're going?" the Auror snapped.
"Outside," Neville stammered. He didn't see any point in lying.
The Auror's scowl deepened. "You four know you're not supposed to leave the Great Hall. Come along." He grabbed Neville by his collar and unceremoniously dragged him back the way he had come. Two other Aurors emerged as if from thin air, toting Ginny, Luna and --
Neville did a double take as he saw the other girl being manhandled with them. Padma?
They were shoved back into the Great Hall without further ado. Huddled together, they stood awkwardly by the entrance as the doors slammed shut behind them. At the far end of the Great Hall was what was left of the Slytherin table. Several Aurors and professors were clustered around the students who had been involved in the brawl. Malfoy was cradling one arm with the other and glaring at a few of his Housemates -- a dark-skinned, dark-haired boy Neville recognized as Blaise Zabini, and a sixth year girl with dark curly hair and an angular face. Neville thought she might have been one of the Notts, but he wasn't sure.
In any event, he had more pressing things to worry about -- namely the fact that he was stuck in the Great Hall again and that he had apparently been followed. He turned back to Ginny and Luna, who were watching the remaining Patil twin with some mix of distrust and sympathy.
Padma, for her part, just lifted her chin and frowned at Neville. "You were going to look for Harry, weren't you?"
"That's right," Neville said, fidgeting under the scrutiny. Something about Padma's stare made her seem much older than she was. "Why were you following us?"
"Because I'm not going to sit here and do nothing after what happened to my sister!" Padma's voice caught and she crumpled for a moment before catching herself. "I was part of the DA too, Neville. I'm going to help you, like it or not."
"I don't even know what I'm going to do yet!" Neville protested.
Padma folded her arms and scowled. She was petite, but in her singed jumper and skirt she seemed to radiate as much authority as Professor McGonagall. "At least you were doing something," she said. "And if I don't help I think I'll go mad."
"Then there's no use sticking with us," Ginny muttered, throwing a scowl at the doorway and the Aurors standing guard. "They know we're trying to sneak out now."
"We'll just have to wait," Luna added. "Maybe we should find out what happened over there." She pointed to the scattered Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's goons, still sported bright purple boils, and Tracey Davis was cursing and limping.
Padma's jaw worked for a moment as if she was trying to come up with an argument. After a moment she just grimaced and nodded. Neville could tell that she was trying to do something -- anything -- instead of think about what had happened to Parvati. He couldn't blame her at all.
"Do you know what's going on?" he asked her.
"I don't know," Padma said after a moment's thought. She pointed to Blaise, Tracey, and a few other Slytherins. "I'm not surprised that they got angry with Draco Malfoy, though. He doesn't have as many friends as he did, but he's still better than any of them."
"Because their blood isn't quite as pure." Ginny made a face.
Padma nodded. "Or they're blood traitors. That's probably what's happening with Nott." She pointed to the girl with the dark, curly hair. "That's Theodore Nott's little sister Theresa. I think she was acting as Blaise's second."
That bit of news caught Neville by surprise. "Against Malfoy?"
"And her brother. It wouldn't surprise me." Padma glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think every single Slytherin supports You-Know-Who?"
"It's not like they've done much to convince us otherwise," Ginny grumbled.
"Not that you've tried talking to them. I didn't see any of them in the D.A."
"Because they're sneaks and would've ratted us out! Or did you miss that most of Umbridge's goons were Slytherins?"
Neville fought the urge to groan. He forced his way between the two girls and glared at them. "Maybe we can fight after we figure out a way to find Harry?"
"She started it!" Ginny muttered, but fell silent. Padma just frowned and opened her mouth to make some kind of cutting remark that was probably going to get them all in trouble again --
"They separated themselves."
Luna's comment nipped the argument in the bud. As one, Neville, Ginny and Padma turned to stare at her.
"What?" Ginny demanded, although she didn't look like she needed any clarification.
Luna provided it anyway. "All of the Slytherins who were fighting are by themselves now. Everyone knows who they are."
"So they'll be easier to pick out," Padma murmured. Her brow furrowed as she peered in the direction of the Slytherins. "Neville, tell me if I'm seeing things."
Neville stared at her for a moment and began to scan the length of the Great Hall. The Slytherins had indeed divided themselves into two groups -- and the ones most isolated from the rest of the school were people like Malfoy, who supported the Death Eaters in some fashion or another. They were watching, he realized. More than that, a lot of them seemed to be waiting for something.
"Do you think there's going to be another attack?" Ginny asked quietly. "Is that what they're waiting for?"
"What, right here at Hogwarts?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Neville felt an icy pit open up in his stomach. Some of the isolated Slytherins looked confused or just nervous, huddling with their peers out of habit. But some of them...
They looked hungry, he realized. Expectant. Maybe even amused. He remembered the way the Death Eaters in the Ministry had carried themselves two years ago, especially before everyone had begun fighting back. Despite the fact that an all-out brawl had broken out, they didn't seem worried or angry at all.
"They know something," Padma breathed. She threw Neville an anxious look. "But the Death Eaters wouldn't attack Hogwarts -- not with the Headmaster and all the Aurors here. Right?"
Neville wished he could answer. He stared at the Slytherins for a moment longer, and then glanced at his allies. He wondered if it was allowed to have four people trying to do something instead of three. Harry would have come up with something right away, but Harry wasn't here -- and if Hogwarts was in danger, it all fell to him.
"Come on," he said with more bravery than he felt. "We need to talk to the Slytherins."
"What about finding my brother and Harry and Hermione?" Ginny said, gesturing to the still-guarded doorway.
He looked back at her and held her stare until she looked away. "This is more important," he said quietly, and started toward the Slytherins with Luna and Padma. After a moment, Ginny threw one last look at the doors and followed them.
~~
Helen's words hung in the air. The entire room had gone completely silent -- so still that Harry could hear his heart crashing against his ribs. Ron seemed frozen and Hermione was staring at the waitress and shaking her head, growing panic flashing across her face. At least they were reacting. Harry couldn't seem to think, much less respond. He had never thought of Hermione like that, not even once...
"She's yours and Granger's."
Those simple, matter-of-fact words made the little girl watching him all the more real. It was possible that Helen was lying. He knew that on some level. But the girl's flyaway hair and the anxious, protective manner in which she hovered over the baby made that very unlikely. Helen might not have been telling the whole truth, but she hadn't lied about this.
She's mine and Hermione's.
I'm going to have a daughter.
He tore his gaze away from the girl and looked back at Hermione, who had turned sheet-white. Her hands were pressed over her mouth. She held his stare for a moment, eyes wide, before slowly turning to Ron and shaking her head again. "I don't think of Harry like that!" she said frantically. "I swear I don't, I swear -- "
Ron just shook his head too. His hands curled into fists as, very slowly, he stood up and loomed over Helen again. "What kind of games are you playing? Who the hell do you think you are?"
"It's not important who I am!" Helen snapped, taking a step away from the furious Head Boy.
"Of course it's important!" Hermione shot to her feet suddenly, arms held rigidly at her sides as she stalked over to Ron. He put an arm around her and she leaned against him as if to steady herself. "Why should we believe you? We don't know anything about you! We have no idea who you are!"
"And you never will if I can help it!" Helen snarled, rounding on Hermione with her hand flung back as if to strike her. Harry was beside her instantly, and it was all she could do to hold both him and Ron back as they both lunged at Helen. For a moment the three friends formed a tableau, presenting their united front to their strange, frightening rescuer. Despite the situation, Harry felt a small thrill of pride. If this was some stupid trick or a misguided attempt to divide him from his best friends, it was failing miserably.
The standoff was interrupted by the little girl, who hurried between the trio and Helen. She was wearing a dress that looked like it had been made out of an old sack, and there was something in her eyes that was far too old. Those eyes found Harry's quickly, but instead of speaking she just peered at him, gaze flickering from one feature to another as if she was trying to catalogue them. She touched her own face -- snub nose, round cheeks, cleft chin -- before she seemed to be satisfied.
"You are my papa," she said at last. Then, matter-of-factly, "I don't remember you. Voldemort killed you."
Helen flinched. When she spoke, her voice was strained. "Don't say that name, Samantha."
"It's a name," Samantha said, sounding exactly like a tiny version of Hermione. "It's not gonna hurt anybody."
This did not seem to sit well with Helen at all. The young woman shifted her weight from one foot to the other, engaged in a battle of wills with a little girl. She didn't seem to know how to deal with her or even what to say to her. "Shut up," she growled at last. "I didn't have to bring you along, did I?"
Samantha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes you did! You're supposed to take care of me!"
"Shut up!" Helen yelled. Lines appeared around her mouth, as if worry and hardship had aged her prematurely, and a light flared in her eyes for the first time. Harry was half-aware of Hermione squeezing his arm. Just then Helen reminded him of Sirius in the Shrieking Shack -- dangerous and far too willing to let rage overwhelm all other emotions. But Helen wasn't facing down a Death Eater. She was yelling at the child she had apparently been given charge of.
In that moment Harry realized that Helen Grandin wasn't just desperate. She was almost insane.
Then Samantha cringed back against Harry, clutching his trousers, and whatever change had come over Helen simply vanished. She shrank in on herself and tore away from the aborted confrontation. Without another word, she stalked over to the window and began to check the alley outside again. Her hands were bunched in her skirt and she was trembling very slightly.
Almost before she turned away, Hermione let out a shaky breath and detached from Harry and Ron. She slid into a crouch in front of Samantha. "It's okay," she said softly. "She's not going to hurt you."
Samantha blinked. Apparently this thought had never occurred to her. Indeed, the little girl seemed to have recovered from Helen's outburst faster than anyone else. "It's okay," she said with a shrug. "She does that all the time. Me and Julian got used to it."
"Julian?" Ron asked. He was watching Helen, as if he expected her to spin around and attack them all.
Samantha pointed to the baby on the bed. "He's Julian."
"That's a nice name." Hermione hesitated and glanced at Ron. Harry could see the indecision written on her face. She wanted to help the little girl and talk to her, but given whose child this was...
After a moment Ron sighed and joined her on the floor. He gave the girl a small smile. "Do you remember Hermione?"
Samantha nodded. "She's gonna be my mama."
Hermione made a soft, choked sound, as if she wanted to speak, but couldn't find words. "I guess I am," she managed at last, and reached out to pat down a stray lock of hair. At this oddly maternal gesture, Harry felt something inside him knot up. He looked away before he could puzzle out what it meant.
The frightening bit was that he believed Helen. He didn't want to, but every instinct was telling him that the waitress meant every word she said. She was from a future where everything had been lost, where he had failed and Voldemort had won. He was dead, Ron and Hermione were probably dead -- and the only hope they had rested with a young woman who mocked with casual cruelty and carried herself like an unsheathed knife.
He glanced over at her, taking in the dark hair and the angular face and the height. She looked a lot like Hermione, he realized belatedly. It was as if someone had been given a description of his friend and had tried to recreate her without understanding any of the little things that made Hermione so special. If there had once been anything charming or unique about Helen Grandin, it had been scoured away by the war she had lived through. He wondered how old she was in his time, or if she had any inkling of the future that lay before her.
As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked up quickly and tilted her head. He turned away. Meeting her eyes was like trying to stare down a corpse.
He shivered and crossed the room to stand next to her. "Is it really that bad?"
"Where I'm from?" Helen sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, it's that bad. The Dark Lord unleashed things that even he couldn't control. Every myth and legend, every monster Muggles use to scare children in fairy tales -- he brought them here. Or at least he will, very soon." She gave him a sidelong look. "The Time Turner I have creates possibilities, Potter. Theoretically, the moment I came here I made a new possibility -- a branch in time where I warned you and your friends, and managed to prevent the Dark Lord from becoming so powerful. My home and my past and future still exist. I can't save my time, but I can save yours."
Harry understood her reasoning, even if he didn't know if it was possible. If her theory worked the way it was supposed to, somewhere out there was another Harry and another Hogwarts and another attack on the Three Broomsticks -- one where Helen wasn't there to help. It made sense, in a way. Still, he could almost sense the qualifier hanging in the air -- the unspoken problems with the theory.
"But?" he prompted.
Helen sighed. "But if the theory is wrong, and I didn't create another branch..." She twisted the two chains around her fingers, silver and gold intertwining with each other. "If I didn't, then this is my past, and somehow I'm helping make a nice little Hell on Earth."
"And you're willing to risk it."
It wasn't a question, and Helen didn't take it as one. She just smiled -- a tiny, sad smile that made her too-thin face look like a skull. "Wouldn't you?"
He had no answer for that. He wasn't sure he ever would.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked after a moment.
Helen folded her arms across her chest and hunched slightly, staring out the window at something only she could see. "Tonight the Dark Lord is going to attack Hogwarts and kill Albus Dumbledore. Hundreds of people will die, and the school will be destroyed. He will absorb the magic used to defend the school and make himself almost indestructible. After that there's no way to defeat him."
She spoke simply and matter-of-factly, as if she was reciting dry facts instead of recounting what might as well have been the end of the world. Harry just stared at her with growing horror and tried not to be sick. "So how do we stop him? What do we do?"
"You don't understand, do you?" Helen's grip on the two chains tightened until her hand shook. She released both of them abruptly and looked over at him, and the expression on her face reminded him of a lost child.
He shifted uneasily under the mercurial woman's scrutiny. "What is it?"
Helen's voice was the barest whisper. "I don't know how to stop him."