Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists
Disclaimer: I can only hope to attain the creative brilliance of J. K Rowling.
AN: This story is AU after OOTP.
Thus We Play The Fools With Time
Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Draco sat listlessly in the library, unsure of what to do next. Ron was staring at the engraving of the box in the book avidly, as if merely looking at it would cause answers to leap from the page. Luna was twirling a strand of hair around her finger, and Ginny yawned, leaning toward Ron to more carefully examine the picture in which he was so interested. Draco leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, attempting to look bored out of his mind. This was made slightly less successful by the alert manner in which his eyes were darting around the room.
"Look at the dimensions of the box, Ron," Ginny said suddenly, pointing to a caption with one finger. "Do you think it could hold the Claviomnis? Maybe we're destined to find it."
"I saw a man in red - a man in red had the box," Ron argued, shaking his head slowly.
"Red is certainly not my first choice in colors, but did you ever stop to think that you might have seen one of us in red robes?" Malfoy drawled, raising his eyebrows coolly at Ron. "Or are you going to confirm my suspicions that you neither bathe nor change clothes very often?" Ron leaned forward in his chair with a growl, stopped only by Luna's calming hand on his arm.
"Okay, then how about this?" Ginny suggested calmly. "Maybe the man in red is the person who hid the Claviomnis, and we are to find it?"
"What is the obsession with the Claviomnis?" Malfoy said, suddenly speaking with more irritation than the situation warranted. "Just because Granger suddenly got a wild hair about it? How do you even know the Claviomnis matters? It might not be relevant at all…did any of you ever stop to consider that? Or do you just jump on the bandwagon alongside whoever has the first sorry excuse of an idea?" He struggled to calm himself down. If he didn't get a handle on his annoyance, he was going to make somebody suspicious.
Ginny was looking at him oddly, her head cocked inquisitively to one side.
Damn. Too late, Malfoy grasped for his suave veneer, and ran one unconcerned hand back through his white-blond hair.
"You sound terribly certain that it's not relevant, Malfoy," she said in a carefully bland voice. "How would you know that, I wonder?" Luna's eyes became murky and troubled. Ron's gaze was going back and forth between his nemesis and his sister, as if he were watching a tennis match.
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "You're looking for conspiracies where there aren't any. You probably believe that Fudge has Grindelwald locked in a super-secret dungeon underneath the Ministry too, don't you?"
"Actually, there have been several witnesses who attest to the presence of a mysterious doorway beneath the lower Courtrooms that - "
"Oh, sod off, Lovegood!" Malfoy interrupted, rolling his eyes.
"Hey!" Ron said, drawing his wand, and standing to his feet, so that he loomed menacingly over Malfoy.
"Ron…" Ginny said warningly.
"I just knew that you had to be hiding something. That somehow you were in on all this. I had started thinking that I was mistaken, but I really was right!" Anger and triumph struggled for mastery on Ron's face. He pointed his wand at Malfoy, jabbing it in his direction with short, sharp thrusts, punctuating his words. "Tell us what you know."
"I assure you that I had nothing to do with our journey to Avalon," Malfoy said, standing and facing Ron, with challenge in his eyes.
"No, Luna did that," Ron answered, his eyes flickering over to where the girl in question sat, her hands tightly clasped and her face anxious. "But - but somehow you knew we were going - you knew what was going to happen. And you arranged it so that you would come too. Why?" Malfoy's face closed itself off, a smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth.
"I don't have to tell you anything." Ron lunged toward him with an inarticulate roar, as Ginny and Luna both strove to hold him back.
"Draco, why are you doing this?" Ginny cried. "Were you lying - when you said what you said outside, were you lying?" Ron stopped struggling, and turned to look at his sister, with an air of betrayal on his face. A muscle jumped in Malfoy's jaw.
"I - I don't know…" he finally managed to say, the sophisticated mask dropping suddenly to reveal a confused and uncertain youth.
"What Ron said - was it the truth?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his face. "Did you know what would happen?"
"I - I didn't know for sure. Most of it was only theory. But - but once Granger and Potter stopped being able to keep their hands off each other -" He made a disgusted face. "And when I saw the books - I knew - I knew what was going to happen, and I knew that I had to go."
"Who told you that you had to go?" Ginny asked, dropping Ron's arm, as he stood stock-still, as dumbfounded as she.
"My father said the order came straight from Lord Voldemort."
Ginny let out a sort of breathy wheeze, as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Ron sank slowly onto his chair, his eyes wide with shock, trying to cope with the ramifications of what Malfoy had said. Only Luna still stood, regarding Malfoy thoughtfully, her blue eyes inscrutable.
"So, we've walked right into a trap. A trap for Harry set by Voldemort - have I gotten it all?" Ginny said slowly, after a moment, false brightness in her voice.
"No, no!" Malfoy hastened to tell her. "We're - we're not in the trap … yet." Ron snorted, cutting off whatever else he'd been about to say.
"Why should we believe you?" Malfoy slanted a sudden, calculating look at him, and a most unpleasant smile creased his face.
"What other choice have you got?" Ron looked as if he would leap across the table and throttle Malfoy with his bare hands, but Luna's calm voice cut through his rage and panic.
"Tell us what we can expect."
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The twin cracks of Apparation split the still night air, sounding much more loud and intrusive than they actually were. Hermione flinched and looked around nervously. They were at the bridge to Avalon that Aetheryd had been unable to see.
"Damn!" Harry cursed furiously under his breath. "I'd hoped that Avelon's wards didn't extend out this far." Hermione followed his gaze across the bridge and the wide lawn up to the castle. It suddenly seemed very far away. He shoved Hermione rather roughly toward the bridge. "Slytherin was already stirring when we Apparated away. Run!"
Hermione did as he said, hurtling blindly across the planks of the footbridge, struggling to keep her voluminous skirts out of the way of her feet. Her hair was coming loose from its fastenings, and strands of it were brushing across her face, getting in her eyes. She batted at it with one irritated motion of her hand.
She heard a sound of ripping fabric as she fell, the rough wood scraping painfully across both palms as she tried to catch herself. Only Harry's Seeker reflexes kept him from tripping and falling on top of her. There was a wrenching pain in her foot.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, leaning down to help her up. She stood, only to have one leg refuse to hold her up.
"Oh, dammit! Dammit, Harry, I've sprained my ankle!" Her voice was high and strained, fury with herself for such an untimely accident evident in her wavering tone. Her entire foot, complete with its pretty, soft slipper, was wedged in the gap between two planks. Harry knelt beside her, working to free her foot, while Hermione stood awkwardly, with all her weight on her other leg.
Even as he roughly wrenched her foot loose, prompting a low hiss of pain from her and a hurried apology from him, they heard multiple Apparations. It sounded like a crackle of distant gunfire.
"They're making for the Forbidden Castle!" they heard one of Slytherin's men cry.
"I'm going to have to carry you, Hermione. I don't think I can levitate you and fend them off at the same time."
"Quit thinking like pre-Avalon Harry," Hermione told him sharply. "Remember the Lumos spell?" She cast a quick Cushioning charm around her foot, and tested it, wincing a little. "I think that will work." Harry nodded at her, and squeezed her hand briefly. The first of Slytherin's men were nearly to the bridge.
"Go!" he shouted and she began to run awkwardly, nearly falling again when she transitioned from the bridge to the lawn of Avalon. When Harry made it to the end, he cast a Reducto on the bridge, intent on blasting it to splinters right under the feet of their pursuers.
Nothing happened.
Harry could hear the carefully modulated chuckles of Salazar Slytherin waft toward him on the breeze.
You foolish, upstart boy! The voice rang in his head, and the unbearable pain reverberated through his scar. Did you really think a mere reductor could destroy something that has been so long rooted in the truly Ancient Magic?
He stood motionless for so long that Hermione, who was about halfway to the castle steps, turned to see what was causing the delay. The knight leading the charge brandished his staff.
"Expelliarmus!" he called out.
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, and reached out with her mind, merging with Harry's at the same time that he cast a Protego. The Disarming spell bounced harmlessly off of it, ricocheting with enough force to knock the knight who had cast it - as well as the one behind him - into the water.
"Stand aside!" Slytherin said angrily, pushing his henchmen out of the way, up to the end of the bridge where the Protego shield whorled serenely. Rather than dissipating as most Shielding charms did, it remained, a shimmering vortex of color, blocking their path.
The shield was translucent enough so that Harry could see a distorted version of Salazar Slytherin reaching with both hands up to the shield. The emerald-topped staff that Harry still held in his hands began to slide through his grip, inexorably pulled toward the tableau at the bridge. The colors in the Protego barrier began to swirl and throb more quickly, as if pulsing with actual life.
Harry, come on! He felt Hermione's mind ringing in his with urgency, even in its muted state, in their secret "hideaway" beneath their minds. He wondered if the link could ever be reestablished in its entirety. As if struggling with a heavy weight, Harry brought his other arm up slowly to strengthen his hold on the staff. He turned to run up to Avalon, sprinting quickly across the downy turf to where Hermione was already climbing the steps to the castle.
Behind them, the Protego shield shattered, and they both clung to the stairs as the shockwave sped by them in a rush of wind and sound. Harry struggled to maintain his control on the staff, but he could feel the pull of magic trying to remove it from his grasp.
"Alohamora!" Hermione called, in a slightly breathless voice, and the doors of the great stronghold Avalon sprang open noisily. They fled inside, and Harry flung a hasty spell over one shoulder to close the doors back.
They were halfway down the corridor, heading for the tower door, when Slytherin gained entrance to the castle. Avalon itself seemed to shudder. The pull on the staff was terrific, and the scar was a white-hot knife in Harry's head.
Harry, let the staff go. It's not worth it! He felt Hermione's voice in his mind.
I can't, he projected with difficulty, as they careened around the corner. A viciously fired curse narrowly missed them as they moved out of the line of fire, and coarse powder rained down on them, as the curse took out a chunk of the stone wall instead.
Why not? she pleaded. She felt the momentary hesitation in his mind.
I don't know, he finally admitted. They were standing before the door, which Hermione was pretty sure they had left open on their hasty removal from Avalon. It was now shut.
"Bloody hell," Harry swore quietly. "How did Luna open this?" Hermione tried a few complicated passes with her wand, but it availed nothing. The pursuit was getting closer; Harry could see the faint flicker of spellflash.
Reductor on three, Harry, Hermione said, her voice calm, even though her face was white with strain and pain from her injured ankle.
He'll be able to follow us, Harry pointed out, as he raised his wand in tandem with hers.
That can't be helped now.
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Malfoy eyed the other three somewhat warily, before retaking his seat. He was twiddling his wand nervously between his fingers.
"Whenever Potter and Granger went to…they ended up meeting some of the Founders. Lord Slytherin in particular took an instant dislike and mistrust to Potter."
"There's a big surprise," Ron snorted, rolling his eyes.
"Slytherin deduced that Potter and Granger had come from about a thousand years in the future. Lord Gryffindor called Potter family, but Slytherin was never able to find out if they were related or if that was just a ruse on Gryffindor's part. The story has been passed down for generations, as the Slytherin family looked for any evidence that the Gryffindor line had been reborn."
"Gryffindor's line ended with Gryffindor. There's never been any proof that any heirs even existed," Ron argued automatically.
"There's been loads of proof cited in the Quibbler," Luna pointed out with remarkable equanimity.
"Then why do you think Avalon called Harry the Heir of Gryffindor, you prat?" Malfoy asked Ron, having ignored Luna with aplomb.
"I thought it might have been a figure of speech!" Ron protested, as Malfoy began speaking again.
"Nobody even paid attention to a supposed Mudblood named Lily Evans until she got to Hogwarts. Then some of those that knew of the tendency of distinctive green eyes to run in the Gryffindor family began to take notice of her."
"And of course, thanks to Harry and Hermione's time travel, Voldemort already knew this entire story," Ginny finished for him. "Why didn't he just kill Lily?"
"He wasn't sure of anything until Lily married James Potter. Then, I'm afraid, she sealed their fates," Malfoy said. There was a long moment of hesitation, where he seemed to be visibly debating over how much to say. He reached into his robes, while Ron instantly reacted, training his wand unwaveringly on the blond Slytherin. But while what Malfoy drew out resembled a wand, it was not one.
It was thicker than wands tended to be, made of dark wood obviously worn and smoothed by the passing centuries. It was finished at one end, but at the other end, it had been broken violently, and sharp splinters frayed out from the main shaft.
"And just what the hell is that?" Ron said, not lowering his wand.
"Oh, put that away, Weasley, before you put someone's eye out," Malfoy replied, disdain dripping from every syllable. Ron glared at him, and let his wand rest down at his side, but did not pocket it. "It's Lord Slytherin's staff, or part of it anyway."
"What happened to it?" Ginny asked, looking at the talisman with mixed fascination and fear.
"Potter happened to it," Malfoy said witheringly, and there was a moment of silence, in which the other three teens tried to take in the concept. Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if he felt a headache coming on.
"Oy, I wish Hermione was here," he mumbled under his breath.
"When Potter comes back, he'll have the top half of this staff with him."
"How powerful is that staff?" Ginny asked, still eying it with some measure of trepidation.
"Very," Malfoy told her quite seriously. "Magical essence was far more potent back then than it is today. Slytherin had a large emerald atop his staff that housed some of his magical essence. A person who got their hands on that staff could be quite powerful indeed."
"Then that means you're here, to ambush Harry as soon as he gets back, and take the two pieces of the staff back to your Master, right? Let me guess, you know how to get out of this mess, and it's going to take us right to him." Ron asked coolly, raising his eyebrows in his best Malfoy-esque manner.
"Try not to be a complete moron, Weasley," Malfoy replied. "If I was going to do that, why would I tell you any of this? I may have not had the … erm…purest motives when I got here, but that - that vision that the Oracle showed me? I did not make that up." His eyes were troubled, evidently still seeing visions of his mother tortured at his father's hand.
"There's one thing that I don't understand," Luna asked suddenly, her serene voice somehow finding a way to cut through the rest of the conversation.
"One thing?" Ron and Ginny chorused in bafflement.
"Why not just prevent Harry from going back in time at all? If he never goes back, he never breaks the staff. The Slytherin family keeps the power of Slytherin, and probably goes on to terrorize millions of Muggles in the name of purebloodedness."
Malfoy drilled them all with a particularly quelling look.
"Why do you think Voldemort's tried to kill Harry so many times?" Ron froze in place, his mouth agape, in the perfect picture of one presented with an answer that was never considered, or even dreamed of. "And somehow the idiotic prick kept surviving, and kept nearly killing the Dark Lord. So it was decided - "
"To get someone to do Voldemort's dirty work for him, and that someone was the son of his bestest little stooge," Ron's voice was sing-song with sarcasm. Malfoy jerked his head up violently to glare at Ron, his grip tightening around the ancient staff so tightly that his knuckles were white.
"Weasley, I'm warning you - "
"Is that why Voldemort broke your father out of prison? I bet your father'd had that staff hidden away for years, after Harry defeated Voldemort the first time. Maybe somewhere in Europe?" Ron said, before remembering that Malfoy didn't actually know that Harry had been in his mind and seen the domestic bliss that was the Malfoy household. Oops, he thought belatedly.
Malfoy's eyes flickered toward him in confusion, as if he were on the cusp of understanding something, but couldn't quite take the final steps there.
"Your father had to check the staff, didn't he?" Luna said suddenly, thankfully taking Malfoy's attention away from Ron's slip. "He was keeping it safe for his boss, and it was his job to see if the staff was whole again. If it became whole again, it would mean that the latest attempt on Harry's life, or to keep him from going back in time, had worked. But you still have just half a staff. It's all very Back to the Future."
"Back to - to where?" Ron asked, completely at sea from Luna's latest monologue. Malfoy was not to be thusly distracted.
"Weasley, what the hell are you trying to say about Europe?" Ron opened his mouth, as he groped for some kind of believable lie, not wanting to turn Malfoy's admittedly dubious alliance against them until they were all safely back where they were supposed to be.
He was interrupted by a low, rumble that vibrated the floors, seeming to originate from the bowels of Avalon itself.
"What the bloody hell was that?" was what Ron actually ended up saying. They drew their wands and careened out into the hallway, expecting some kind of confrontation. Instead what they saw was a sudden chunk blasted from the corner of the wall, as if hit by an invisible hex. Ginny cringed as the loose rock fell towards them, but the debris vanished in mid-flight. Even as they watched, the sharp, clean edges of the new break became dull and worn with age. Ginny and Ron exchanged glances of utter befuddlement.
"Wha - ?" was all Ron got out, before he noticed that Malfoy was very pale. He was moving his fingers reflexively around the staff, apparently not even noticing that he was doing it.
"It's nearly time. They'll be coming back soon," he said, and began sprinting toward the door that led to the tower.
"How do you know that?" Ginny called after him, as the others pelted in the same direction that Draco had gone.
They found him in front of the door that Luna had opened earlier, wand in one hand, staff in the other, apparently trying to suss out exactly how to get it open. He did not react at all to the sudden clatter of footfalls behind him, although he had to have known they were coming.
"Lovegood, can you open this?" he asked perfunctorily, without turning around.
"You've seen me open it before," Luna answered somewhat icily.
"Don't do it, Luna," Ron said in a warning tone, laying one hand on her arm.
"Spare me your feeble attempts at courtship, Weasley," Malfoy said, turning towards them and rolling his eyes. Ron flushed a vivid red. "Open the damn door."
Luna opened her mouth to speak, but before anyone could discover if she was planning to agree or decline, there was another rumble through the very foundations of Avalon. A ripple ran through the door and ancient cracks threaded through the brass-studded finish. Draco swore under his breath.
"They've made it as far as the tower. For the love of Merlin, Lovegood, open the door!" Luna looked visibly uncertain, and Ron felt real fear watching her hesitance. She had been the one person that he had been able to take on complete faith, the one who somehow, inexplicably, had a handle on what exactly was going on. The key word being had, of course. Her gaze darted nervously from Malfoy to Ron.
She raised her wand, and tapped out the correct sequence on the door. It creaked open noisily, having obviously been repaired at one time, long ago.
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Harry and Hermione were halfway up the stairs, as the wooden splinters were still clattering noisily to the stone floor. Hermione was having a rough time of it, lagging noticeably behind Harry, even as he still clung to her hand.
Hermione, sweetheart, come on!
I'm - I'm trying, she gasped, her voice still sounding tinny and small in the tunnel of their minds.
Wingardium Leviosa, he thought, and she lifted gently into the air. He cast another Shielding charm about halfway up the stairs, hoping to buy them some more time. Time…he thought, with a sardonic grin.
They had finally reached the open room containing the large Time Turner, when Harry heard the stealthy scrape of a foot on stone. Slytherin was coming alone.
How are we going to turn this thing on? Harry asked, shaking the outermost metal ring with one hand. Hermione limped through the intertwining circles, and tapped the hourglass with her wand.
Nothing happened.
I don't know, Harry, she answered, looking back at him with pleading and apologetic eyes. She saw his jaw set, as that look of hopeless determination - never say die - flashed across his face.
He turned to face the door.
They heard the Protego blow apart. Harry couldn't help but be amazed at Slytherin's skill. If he's like that without his staff…he didn't finish the thought.
The footfalls began a frenzied staccato up the stairs, no longer trying for stealth. Harry squared himself toward the door, wand raised. Hermione was leaning on one of the rings, trying to keep her weight off of her injured leg.
Stay behind me, Hermione, he instructed her tersely. He felt her bristling, but there was no time for her to respond, before Slytherin's hunched, ungainly form had gained the doorway.
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If Draco Malfoy was at all amazed by the sheer size of the Time Turner in the tower, he did a good job of masking it. He stood in front of the outermost ring, and raised his wand.
"What the hell are you doing?" Ron said, pushing down on Malfoy's arm so that the wand pointed to the floor.
"Get out of my way, Weasley," Malfoy snarled, knocking Ron aside. They both watched as gouges and nicks appeared in the stone. The glass in one of the narrow windows cracked, and a searing scorch mark appeared on one of the rings of the time turner, marring the shiny finish with a vivid black line.
"What's going on, Draco?" Ginny called out, somewhat tremulously.
"Potter dueled Lord Slytherin," Malfoy responded, unable to quite keep all the admiration out of his voice, much to his chagrin.
"How are we seeing that now, if it happened a thousand years ago?" Ron bellowed.
"Avalon is a hub of time, a central gathering place from which spokes of time emerge in every direction," Luna said serenely, as the mysterious wind suddenly appeared to swirl around the tower room. The other three stared at her for a moment, without comprehension.
"Thanks for clearing that up," Ron said in a dazed voice. Malfoy raised his wand again, and Ron took exception to it a second time. "What are you going to do?" the Gryffindor demanded.
"I'm trying to save your bloody friends' pathetic lives. Is that quite acceptable to you, Weasley?" Ron subsided, clearly not happy about it, but seeing no other options. Malfoy aimed his wand at the center of the Time Turner, and shouted, "Tempus fugit."
There was a mechanical sounding groan, and the rings of the Time Turner began to grind into motion.
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Harry wove neatly between the rings of the Time Turner, using the metal as a shield from Slytherin's attack. Hermione was, of course, not staying behind him, but, favoring her injured ankle, was trying to provide Harry with some cover. They were working seamlessly as a team, speaking only telepathically, and anticipating each other's every move. Their link seemed almost restored.
Even with their advantages, the power of a still-staffless Slytherin was almost overwhelming. Harry felt the heat of a curse whiz by his ear and crash into the wall somewhere behind him. He could hear wind whistling through a new crack in a window. They had very nearly pinned Slytherin down, having him all but trapped in a small alcove, while they were able to use the body of the Time Turner as cover.
Hermione, I want you to duck down and try to -
Harry, we've got to get away from the Time Turner!
What? Why? He cast a frantic look at her, as he fired another spell, and heard Slytherin curse in response. He smiled grimly.
Have you thought about what happens if Slytherin breaks it?
Utter blankness wafted through Hermione's mind, followed by little ripples of shock. Evidently, Harry had not thought about it until just now.
All right, you cover me, and I'll go -
Whatever Harry had been about to say was cut off abruptly and painfully by the reappearance of the cleaver in his head. The agony drove him to his knees; he dropped his wand, but managed to retain hold of Slytherin's staff.
So, you think you're cleverer than Lord Salazar Slytherin? You think you can converse in the dark recesses of your pitiful minds without fear of discovery and reprisal? The words were thunderously loud, echoing in Harry's head with such force that Hermione's cries to him went unheard.
Blackness began to stain the edges of his vision like spilled ink, and his lashes fluttered vainly as he clung to consciousness.
"Harry! Harry, get up! Harry, please!" he could dimly hear Hermione pleading, as if from very far away. Deep, rattling footfalls echoed across the stone floor. He could feel the vibrations through the floor.
Slytherin was coming…
Hermione raised her wand, defiance flashing in her dark eyes. Harry lay crumpled at her feet.
The rings of the Time Turner slowly began to move.
Salazar Slytherin lifted one hand, almost airily, and blasted a hole in the side of the Time Turner.
"Accio staff!" he shouted, as Hermione sent a white-hot beam from her wand to melt the glass back together. The Time Turner had shuddered violently, but resumed its motion, after only a moment's hesitation.
The rings were turning, gaining speed.
Harry stirred, groaning, and struggling to open his heavy lids.
"Harry?" Hermione said. The staff soared through the air.
It clanged against one of the twisting rings, causing a gong-like sound, as if a very large tuning fork had been struck.
Slytherin lunged for it.
And with the lightning quick reflexes of a born Seeker, Harry's arm shot straight up, and plucked it from the air, even as it tumbled from its interrupted Accio. Slytherin had the other end firmly in his grip.
Hermione could feel the magic crackling between the two of them, wishing that she could somehow add her magic to Harry's. But the link had been completely severed by Slytherin's second mental attack.
The rings picked up speed, and Hermione saw what neither Slytherin nor Harry had yet noticed. The outermost ring was going to come up between them and would probably knock the staff from Harry's hand. The younger wizard was still obviously in pain, and was at a very bad angle to keep hold of the staff.
"Expelliarmus!" she shouted suddenly, and Slytherin pinwheeled backwards from his own staff.
The inner body of the Time Turner began to glow. Harry exchanged grateful glances with Hermione.
They were going home.
"Shit!" Harry swore, as a heavy weight hit the end of the staff. Slytherin had grabbed it again, but even as he did, the ring hit the staff loudly. The sound of splintering wood filled the room.
Both Harry's and Slytherin's bodies hit the floor with audible thumps, on opposite sides of the Time Turner's rings. Each had half of the staff.
The rings began to move at a dizzying pace, and the glow from the hourglass became a blinding white. The room melted away from around them.
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Hermione didn't know where they were, and she didn't care. She knelt over Harry's prone body, and caressed one side of his face.
"Harry? Harry, are you all right? Harry, come on, love, wake up."
"For the love of Merlin, Granger, get a room!" came a snide voice that she well knew.
"Malfoy," she said sourly, by way of greeting. "As much as it pains me to admit it, I'm glad to see you." Her eyes traveled gratefully to the others, standing anxiously nearby.
"Is he all right?" Ron asked anxiously, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. Hermione's brow knit with anxiety.
"I don't know. Slytherin - he - he did something to Harry's mind. He - " her eyes darted uncertainly to Draco, unsure of how much to disclose. "Harry could feel him through his scar too."
"Bloody hell!" was Ron's singularly helpful rejoinder. "So, you really were back in time with the Founders." Hermione nodded, shrugging slightly.
"Slytherin's just as vile as I always suspected he was," she replied, with a pointed look at Draco Malfoy. Her eyes fell to the fragment of the staff in his hand, and she stood to her feet, fury blazing from her eyes. "And just where the hell did you get that?"
Malfoy raised his hands, disarmingly, one still clenching the staff.
"Easy there, Granger."
"He's known you were going to bring it back the whole time. His end's been passed down through the Slytherin family. All the way to Voldemort… and his lackeys," Ron supplied helpfully.
"Voldemort wants it?" Hermione said questioningly, extracting the emerald-topped end of the staff from Harry's unresponsive fingers.
"Yes," Malfoy admitted, with as much forthrightness as he'd ever displayed. "And it's our ticket out of here. P - please, Granger," he spat the last two words, as if they sickened him physically, but held his hand out for the staff, meeting Hermione's gaze squarely. Hermione seemed uncharacteristically subdued; she contemplatively eyed the green glow of the brilliant, flawless emerald.
And with a sudden, violent movement that surprised everyone in the room, she wrenched the staff in an upward motion, next swinging it down and smashing the emerald against the stone floor. There was a flash of light and black smoke, and the vivid light swirling inside the emerald died. A vicious crack now marred the side of the gemstone.
Draco was watching her with real fear stamped on his pale face.
"You don't know what you've just done, Granger." Hermione regarded him levelly.
"I believe what I've done is prevent Voldemort from getting his hands on a very powerful, magical artifact," she returned.
"Look!" he said, thrusting the shattered end of the staff he carried toward her, seething with frustration. A small green button rested within the fragmented hollow. Ginny and Ron crowded forward for a look as well.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, trying to maintain her unruffled tone.
"I connect the two ends of the staff together, and the Portkey activates… and we get out of here."
"You mean, you get out of here," Ron said belligerently.
"I said we, Weaselby, and I meant it," Malfoy said pointedly, glaring at him.
"And we Portkey right to where Voldemort and all his lovely, hooded friends are waiting for us, right, Malfoy?" came Harry's weary voice from behind them. Everyone whirled, and their collective gazes fell on Harry, struggling to sit up.
"Harry! Are you all right?" Hermione exclaimed. Harry nodded heavily, and she helped him to his feet.
"Would you prefer to stay in this godforsaken place forever?" Malfoy retorted, throwing his arms out to the side, melodramatically.
"Better that than being dead," Ron muttered.
"I think I would've been able to talk us out of the situation, if Granger here hadn't destroyed our only bargaining chip!" Malfoy snarled. For the first time, Hermione looked slightly uncertain of what she'd just done.
"That's assuming any of us trust you further than we can throw you, Malfoy," Harry replied coolly.
"And assuming that Voldemort understands any kind of bargaining that doesn't end in Kedavra," Ron drawled.
"If Draco was going to turn us over to Voldemort, why would he tell us all this?" Ginny said, her pleading voice cutting into the increasingly hostile conversation.
"I couldn't even begin to guess the underlying motives of a Slytherin," Ron retorted, glaring at his sister.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Weasley," Malfoy said lightly.
"If you're so bloody anxious to leave, then just go. Take the staff, and get out of here. We'll wait for more savory heroics," Ron said. Malfoy looked disgusted, and opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione interrupted him.
"His life isn't worth a plug Knut if he shows up with a dysfunctional staff and no Harry… is it, Draco?" The emphasis on his little-used first name was unsettling. Malfoy's arrogant gaze faltered.
"The fact is that I need you as much as you need me," he replied stonily. "As much as it pains me to admit. If the Death Eaters no longer have the element of surprise, I think we have a real chance to elude them." His eyes tripped over the stunned, slightly suspicious faces of his peers. "Granger, Weasley," he nodded to Ginny, "do you think you could make this emerald whole again? We only need it to look authentic." Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances and nodded guardedly.
"And what are you going to do, Malfoy?" Harry asked, handing the top of the staff carefully to Hermione, letting his fingers caress her hand briefly before withdrawing.
"We," Malfoy said the word with sarcastic and deliberate smarminess, "are going to see if the lovely magical room downstairs can conjure up items other than food. We're going to need every tactical advantage we can get."
Harry and Ron exchanged dubious looks with Luna, as they warily followed Malfoy from the tower.
TBC
Okay, this got a little longer than I meant for it to. I had so much fun writing the chase scene, and alternating between the two times. Anyway, one more chapter - possibly two - should finish it all up.
I also got to have a little fun referencing some of my favorite time travel movies… just good, fun stuff like Back to the Future and Frequency (which I highly recommend, for more than just the luscious Jim Caviezel). I know that there probably are plotholes the size of supertankers in here, but I think this is generally the case with any time travel story. I tried to cover most of the ones I could think of, without it getting really awkward and exposition-y. Dumbledore will cover some others at the end, as well.
Now, here's my question. This will be where their affiliation with Avalon ends. I have some more ends to tie up (Draco's redemption, the meaning of Ron's vision, the Claviomnis, Harry and Hermione's romance and their dead mental link, and the final confrontation with Voldemort), but am wondering if this is enough to warrant a sequel? Should I just continue the story on, even though it's no longer about the "Isle of Mists"? I'd love to hear your opinions about this.
Hope you're enjoying it. Thanks for reading. You may leave a review on your way out, if you like.
lorien
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