Disclaimer: La la la...not mine, not mine, not mine.
Author's Notes: Yay! Thanks everyone, for reading, reviewing, enjoying! I know time-travel is confusing; trust me...the details are spinning my head, too. But by the very right of what it is (time-travel) supsension of disbelief is called for;) Enjoy; this chapter should be longer than the last few! It's certainly felt like it's taken forever to get out.
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Until Such A Time
by Kristen Elizabeth
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Harry was already ten feet out into the lagoon and halfway through re-conjuring the Bubble Head Charm before Lupin and Hagrid caught up with him. He tried to fight off their protests that he calm down, think clearly and stay where it was safe. Harry was beyond reason.
The future Ron that he could barely recognize as his oldest friend was now one step closer to his incomprehensible goal of destroying Hermione and Emma. His wife...his daughter. Harry lashed out at the Order members who were keeping him from leaving. "Someone has to warn her! She's all alone in the house!"
"Harry!" Lupin grabbed his shoulders. "You can't go off like this. You'll only wind up getting spotted. Or worse. I shudder to think what Voldemort would do to you a second time around."
"I don't care what happens to me! But I can't let anything happen to Hermione. In any time period." From the open flap of the tent she had fled to moments earlier, Emma watched the confrontation taking place in the water. The bubble around his head muffled his words, but Harry continued, "Just let me go, Remus."
The older man shook his head. "And if I do, what then, Harry? Will you Apparate back to the house and haul Hermione away to safety? If you don't succeed in giving her a heart attack, be sure to watch out for her wand. She's not daft; she'll have the same reaction we all did at first, and she'll zap you into oblivion for trying to trick her."
"'arry," Hagrid began. "We not gonna see 'ermione hurt. 'elp us think up a plan."
"While we're thinking up plans, Ron could be knocking on the cottage's door!" Harry replied, harshly.
Still dripping wet, George cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. "Have faith in our Mum, Harry." He sneezed suddenly and was ushered away a second later by his twin and Cho, presumably for dry clothes and hot tea.
"He's right, Harry. You must have faith in Molly." Lupin pulled the younger man towards shore. Hagrid placed himself behind Harry to prevent him from doubling back. "Why do you think we asked her to be the Secret-Keeper? Not only is she loyal to the Order and trustworthy beyond all measure, she's Ron's mother. Even I don't believe that Ron is far gone enough to torture his own mother for the Secret, and I've seen some his handiwork."
Harry trudged out of the water against his will. Fat beads of water dripped off the ends of his hair, running down his face, neck and bare chest. His body shivered, but he was not even aware of the cold. All he could think about was Hermione...both versions of her. The down-trodden forty-something Hermione whose life was suddenly in grave danger and the twenty-something Hermione in the past who might already be grieving for his disappearance. He only hoped whatever she was going through back there wouldn't affect the baby she carried.
As if on cue, Emma approached him. "Father," she began, hesitant to use the word. "I should be going home anyway before she misses me. We'll be all right together. I promise."
"Emma, I don't like the idea of you going above ground alone, even only to Apparate," Lupin said, wringing out the edge of his robes.
"I'll be fine. I do it all the time." She chuckled nervously. "Can you neglect to pass that on to Mum?"
"Gladly." Lupin glanced back at Harry. "What do you say about her going alone?"
He blinked and shook his head, sending water drops flying. "I don't know. She's not my..." Silence swallowed the rest of the sentence. After an uncomfortable pause, he picked up with, "I think she's capable of taking care of herself."
It didn't take Divination to sense the immense hurt welling up inside of Harry's daughter. Lupin could only watch her face crumple and be proud of how, seconds later, she managed to pull herself together enough to nod at them all. "How much should I tell Mum?" she asked. There was a wobble in her voice still.
"Everything," Percy replied. "You both need to be prepared for the worst. Pack a few things, be ready to move at a moment's..."
"So much for trusting Mum," Charlie scowled at his younger brother.
Percy returned the look with one of his own. "I trust Mum implicably, Charlie. But we're talking about her ickle Ronnekins. How long is she going to be able to hold out against him?"
"As long as it takes for us to find her," he shot back hotly. "She knows, better than anyone, that this Ron isn't *our* Ron. And that *our* Ron...he might never come back!"
"Don't say that!" From her place next to one of the campfires, Lavender shot to her feet. "You never know! He could come to his senses someday! He could come back to us!" The tears that slid down her cheeks sparkled in the fire's light. "He could...he really could..."
Two other women Harry didn't recognize rushed to comfort her. Neville hung back, his hands in his pockets. With Emma only a foot or so away, Harry turned to her. "I was under the impression that Neville and Lavender..."
"They are," she replied, tightly crossing her arms. "It's just...as far as I can gather, she always had a thing for *him.*" The way the girl hissed the word entirely gave away the fact that she was not referring to Neville.
"They dated in school. Briefly," Harry recalled out loud. "I didn't know she kept caring about..." He sighed, too emotionally drained to keep talking. Neville's face was colored with jealousy and hurt. Percy and Charlie were practically at each other's throats. And Ron was the source of everyone's problems. It was like this world was an evil negative of the one from which he had been ripped.
Seeming to sense his distress, Emma softly cleared her throat to get his attention. "I'm going to slip out now while everyone's busy."
"Be careful," Harry instinctively told her.
She gave him a strange look, as if she wasn't sure why he suddenly cared. "I'll take care of Mum. Or she'll take care of me." The odd expression faded and was replaced by a bright, youthful smile. "We take care of each other."
Harry was about to reply when the argument near the tents escalated. "Percy, don't be a prick," Fred ordered, his voice almost echoing off the cavern walls. "Mum won't crack for Ron. Ginny was always her favorite."
"Things are bad enough. Can you not bring Ginny into this, Fred?" George asked. It was, perhaps, the first time he had chastised his twin.
"May she rest in peace," Lupin offered. "Now is not the time to be fighting, everyone. We need to come up with a plan to retrieve Molly Weasley that's both practical and plausible."
Lavender was still in tears. "We shouldn't just write Ron off," she hiccuped.
"We're not," one of the women soothed her. "There might still be a way."
Hagrid sniffed. "Oh...I 'ope so. I surely do. Nuthin' makes my heart sadder than seein' Ron Weasley like this."
Shaking his head, Neville disappeared into the shadows.
Emma licked her lips. "I'm going now," she whispered to Harry. He nodded. "And Father..." She paused, her wand out and ready to conjure the necessary charm. "I'll find a way to send you back. I don't blame you...for not wanting to be here." She looked down at her shoes. "Sometimes I don't want to be here either."
Harry watched her slip silently into the water and disappear below the surface. When she was gone, he wove his way through the Order members back to the place where his clothes lay. They were still slightly damp, but he pulled on the shirt and robes without complaint. Lupin was the first to notice her absence. "Where's Emma, Harry?"
"She went to be with her mother," he replied, fastening the clasp of his cloak. "What's the plan?"
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Eighteen years earlier and what seemed like an entire world away, a very pregnant Hermione paced in front of the large fireplace. Paced was actually the wrong word; in her advanced state, it was more like she waddled. Harry had told her it was her adorable duck walk, an innocent comment that had almost earned him a night on the sofa until she reasoned that it was only her hormones acting out.
Her chin wobbled at the thought of her husband. She took another look at the grandfather clock. Two minutes to midnight. Her gaze drifted to the second clock right next to it. A wedding gift from the Weasleys, it was an exact replica of the one that hung in the Burrow, except that only two little pictures of her and Harry were in it, with a third hand blank and ready for a picture of their baby. The hand with her face on it rested in the "Home" slot; Harry's, however, was "Lost."
There was a loud knock on the front door, but it was merely a formality. Ron appeared in the parlor a moment later, his robes wet from the light rain that had sprung up. "Hermione." He approached her. "How are you holding up?"
"I'll be fine once you tell me that you've found Harry and that he's all right," she said, looking up at her friend with intensely troubled eyes.
Ron squirmed underneath the stare. "I'm sorry, Hermione. We haven't found a trace of him. Yet," he quickly added. "I mean...well..." He shook his head. "Bugger all...he's got to be somewhere, you know?"
With one hand covering her belly, Hermione let her shoulders sag a bit. "I don't understand. What happened, Ron? Where could he have...why would he leave? It's not like him..."
"I don't know." He combed back his wet hair with his fingers. "The only thing I can guess is that the bloody head must've been a Portkey or something."
"Then...he could be anywhere." She took a step back. "Ron. He might not even be in England anymore! Some leftover Death-Eater could have him in their cellar! Oh god..." Hermione put her other hand to her mouth. "Harry...he could be in pain, Ron. He could be...could be *dying* and there's nothing we can do!!"
Ron gently grasped her shoulders. "Hermione, calm down. Getting this upset can't be good for the baby."
"I know." Her eyes closed, but not before twin tears escaped and rolled down her cheeks. "That's what he'd say, too."
"Wherever the shrunken head pulled him to, Harry is entirely capable of taking care of himself. You know that."
She nodded shortly. "Of course he is." Her eyes opened wide. "Unless...he was caught off guard. He might not have had time to fight back once he appeared...wherever. They might have killed him straight away or chained him up to be..."
"Hermione! Stop!" Ron gripped her a little tighter. "If you start thinking the worst...well, it's not a good idea, all right? You have to stay calm and trust Harry. Not to mention the Ministry. There's at least ten Aurors searching for him, my brothers included."
"You're asking me to think rationally while my husband, who should have been home six hours ago, has seemingly vanished off the face of the earth before your very eyes?!?" She quelled her own outburst by moving her hand to cup his cheek. "Ron...I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about him. I can't even think straight."
He patted her hand. "I know it might seem impossible, but you need to eat and sleep. For the baby...you know. Harry will turn up, probably peeved to all hell at this silly practical joke someone's played on him."
She nodded because it was the only thing she could do. "Maybe he'll show up in the morning."
"Sure. Of course. It's all going to be fine, Hermione." Ron cleared his throat. "Um...do you want to be alone now? Because...you know...I can stay, but I don't know how much good I can really..."
"Do you have somewhere to be, Ron?" Her tone was wry.
He blushed profusely. "I have a...a date with Serafina. But if you need me..."
"Oh, call it what it is. A midnight shag session." Hermione gave his shoulder a friendly shove. "Go. Have fun. I'll be all right by myself."
"You're certain?" he asked, although his face indicated that he was greatly relieved. When she nodded, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'll stop by in the morning, or as soon as I know anything more." Ron backed up and out the parlor door. "Take care of yourself, Hermione." He stuck his head back into the room. "And remember. No one's succeeded in getting rid of Harry Potter yet and I doubt anyone ever will."
Hermione made a face at him. "Your words of comfort are touching, Ronald."
His eyes were apologetic. "Goodnight."
After she heard the front door slam behind him, Hermione stood and stared at the dying fire for a few more long minutes until the short flames turned into orange embers. After securing the house for the night, she waddled her way into the bedroom she shared with Harry.
The bed was still unmade from the night before; she found it a nearly impossible task to make it with the huge ball of her stomach in the way. Sensing that her mother was thinking about her, the baby kicked several times.
"Please not tonight, baby girl," she pleaded, caressing her belly. But the baby ignored her and moved even more, turning Hermione's body into a little rollercoaster. She sighed. At times like this, when their child seemed determined to keep her awake for endless hours, all Harry would have to do was lay his head onto her stomach and whisper a few words. The sound of her father's voice always calmed the baby.
But he wasn't there that night and while Hermione prepared for bed, her child kept up a steady round of kicks and punches that would have made a black-belt martial artist proud. Weary from worry, she did her best to ignore the odd internal sensations and slid between the cold sheets.
Her body was programmed to seek Harry's warmth; she had to settle for his pillow instead. Within seconds, it was soaked with her tears.
"Harry," Hermione whispered into the soft fabric that should have been supporting his head. "Where are you?"
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"'Where is he?'" Lupin repeated Harry's question, his brow furred. "What do you mean 'where is he'? You're not seriously thinking that we might storm Voldemort's fortress, are you?"
"I'm not," Harry clarified. "But you must have some idea where Ron would have taken his mother." He looked around at the Order. "Any idea?"
Seamus shook his head. "Sorry, mate. We've only ever gotten to play defense. Offense has never been an option."
"There's no intelligence set up or anything?" He ran a hand through his black locks. "I refuse to believe you have no way of monitoring your enemy. That's just bad tactics."
"Are you volunteering to go up and have a look around, Harry?" Neville broke off a piece of stale bread and threw it into the fire. "Be our guest; just watch your back."
Lavender grabbed his hand. "Let's not jump all over Harry. He's at least considering every option, something we might think about doing every now and..."
"Lavender," Cho admonished her.
"I'm only saying," she continued, pressing the length of her side against Neville's, an unspoken apology if Harry had ever seen one. "And now I'm done."
Lupin looked back at Harry. "We do have intelligence. Spies were in place everywhere...last we heard. But contact with them is so risky. There's no real way of knowing if they're still loyal or still alive." He hesitated. "Some of our old reports indicate that Voldemort might have set up...in Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Outrage lit up Harry's eyes. "How dare he?! Mocking everything Dumbledore stood for...Emma's already told me all about the school. This is too much." He slammed his palm down onto the hard ground and stood up. "It sounds like a logical place to start."
"Come on, Harry." Across the fire, Fred shook his head against a large rock that supported him. "I'd give us better odds on a fortress than on getting into Hogwarts. He couldn't have picked a better spot, eh?"
George shook his head. "Diabolical, he is."
"It's likely the most probable place where Mum might be," Percy spoke up. "But there's no way to get in and even if there were, it is still a school full of innocent children. Starting a battle there could be disastrous."
"I'd hardly call the childen admitted into Hogwarts these days 'innocent'," Neville muttered.
Seamus frowned. "You're a regular ray of sunshine today, Longbottom."
"I just find it...interesting that Harry, the only one of us who could conceivably be willing to think the best of Ron, is just about the only one who's not looking to redeem him." He wrenched his hand away from Lavender's and stood up. "Harry...if you're going to Hogwarts, I'm with you."
Sobered by the generally good-natured man's outburst, Seamus stood. "So am I. Ron's gone too far this time. And he's too close to his goal now."
Several more people stood, including Charlie, the twins and Cho. Harry looked around at the people who remained seated. "We need all the help we can get," he told them.
"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Harry," Lupin said sadly.
"Probably not. But Remus..." Harry adjusted his glasses. "For eighteen years, you've taken care of my family when I couldn't. All the risks and sacrifices you must have made...all of you." He turned around to see everyone. "Now Hermione and Emma need you more than ever. Are you going to keep on helping them by helping us?"
More people stood. Percy and Lavender. Hagrid. And finally, Lupin. He shook his head at Harry. "This might very well be a suicide mission, you know?"
"I've already died once," Harry said, non-chalantly. "It doesn't seem all that frightening anymore."
"And everyone else?"
Harry glanced around the rag-tag group of his old friends. "The phoenix might be gone, but the Order still exists. Still, if anyone is unsure, please don't think you have to..."
"We're sure, Harry," Cho stated for the whole contingent. "We're tired of living underground. Offense is sounding awfully promising right now."
Lupin gave in. "We have the big picture of the plan. Now what about the details? Just how do you intend to get into Hogwarts?"
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He Apparated into the parlor of the cottage nearly an hour later. Instantly, he regretted the fact that his Invisibility Cloak had been left upstairs in Emma's room. Hermione had a habit of staying up late to read by the fire; even pregnancy hadn't been able to break her of that.
Fortunately, the parlor was empty. Harry breathed a little sigh of relief and began his search. He was looking for a single object, Hermione's old, battered, original copy of "Hogwarts: A History." It had been her bible in their first few years at school; later on, it became the source of Hermione's greatest project, one that she had only shared with Harry.
Because she had learned the details of the spells and enchantments that guarded Hogwarts from Muggle eyes and unfriendly intruders when she was only eleven years old, Hermione eventually had turned her attention to another aspect of the castle's protection: how to get around it. The last time she had shown him her book, right after they were married, she had figured out counter-spells and charms for almost every barrier the school had. They were all scribbled in the book's margins in her hasty, but neat cursive.
It was their best shot at getting into Hogwarts and if she was there, rescuing Molly Weasley. When he had thought things through with a clear head, Harry recalled Ron's words outside of the cottage at sunset. He hadn't known who the Secret-Keeper was at that time, but only hours later he had snatched his mother out of her home. The only conclusion Harry could draw was that Ron probably didn't know it was his mother at all; but he did know that she knew who it was.
And that still put Mrs. Weasley in great danger, but let up some of the urgency within Harry to protect Hermione and Emma. Ron's mother had the strongest backbone of any woman Harry had ever known; she needed it to have raised six boys. And one girl.
Harry paused as he searched a stack of books next to Hermione's old rocking chair. Ginny Weasley's death...if there had been a beginning of the end, that was probably it. There had been no way of knowing that her first-year experience with Tom Riddle's diary and the Chamber of Secrets had created an invisible connection between her and the Dark Lord. As his power had grown weaker with every attack against him and his followers, she had faded away, spending her last few minutes on the earth in Harry's arms in the Gryffindor common room with the whole of the House looking on in grief and shock.
It gave him no comfort later to learn that she had always wanted to be there.
He gave up on the one stack of books and moved to another. The guilt over Ginny's death had eased with every passing year; so much of his absolution had come from Hermione's unconditional love. Knowing that Ron's family hadn't held him responsible had helped, too. But it didn't bring Ginny back to the world and the people who had loved her.
Finally, he spotted the familiar, highly-worn, embossed spine of Hermione's favorite book. Harry pulled out of the stack and smiled triumphantly. "Good to see you again, old friend." He stood, the book in his hand, and turned back around to face the fireplace and prepare for Disapparation.
His heart dropped somewhere around his knees as he came face to face with Hermione.
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To Be Continued