A/N: Sorry for misleading everyone, but this is the second of what have become three chapters. What was to have been the second and final part grew too large. A VERY SERIOUS WARNING is given for a small amount of really nasty gore, as in R-rated splatter films, in this chapter. Skip over if such is objectionable. Otherwise, I hope that the story is enjoyable, and thanks for the reviews.
A Simple Matter of Timing
Chapter 2: Temporary Stay of Execution
Just as I arose and headed for the door to leave, there was a knock on it.
I opened it and looked at . . . MYSELF!
* * * * *
The first thought that crossed my mind was that some Death Eater had taken a polyjuice potion, and that he was here to do me harm.
I whipped out my wand, and as I was about to cast anything in his direction that would do serious damage, I saw that he had raised his arms with his fingers outstretched to show that he was unarmed.
"Hello, Harry," he said, and he added a broad smile.
"Who . . . what's going on?" I demanded, keeping my wand pointed at his chest.
"I'm just who I appear to be, namely YOU. I'm here to help prepare you for what's going to happen at noon today," he said.
Apparently, my look indicated serious disbelief and confusion, so he continued.
"I'll prove that I'm on your side and telling the truth. I'm the person who left the note in the Room of Requirement last night, AND I know that you followed the advice in the postscript!" he said. He hesitated, and added, "I know that before last night you had no idea of how Hermione felt about you, OR how truly beautiful she was until she took off her nightgown, OR just how wonderful it would be to have her as your first time shag!"
"Why . . . why do you look like me?" I stammered.
"Because I AM you! Why don't you answer that question yourself," he said. "Get the Marauders' Map from the bottom of your trunk, where it's hidden inside an old notebook, if I recall, and verify my identity."
I did so, and after retrieving the Map, promising it of my unsavory intent, and observing it carefully, I discovered that contrary to common sense, not to mention any notion of sanity, indeed there were TWO separate persons in this room who were labeled "Harry Potter."
"How . . . what . . . why?" was all I think to say.
"Why don't you take a look at what's hanging around my neck. Does it bring back memories of your adventure in your third year with Hermione, when the two of you rescued Buckbeak and Sirius?" he asked. "After all, it's not as if you haven't seen yourself before. You do remember all that happened then, including the Dementors and your 'Dad' and 'his' patronus, don't you?"
"So . . . so that's a . . . a Time Turner," I said.
"Of course, it is," he said. "So, now that you know that I am you, the next obvious question should be 'WHEN are you?' or maybe 'WHEN will you be?' or 'WHEN were you?' or . . . damned if I know! English grammar doesn't lend itself well to situations involving time travel, does it? I've never heard of a 'schizophrenic' present tense or a 'paranoid' past perfect one!"
I laughed, but my mind was going a mile a minute, in trying to process what clearly was a very strange situation. I looked at him more carefully, and I saw that he was NOT an identical twin of me. His hair was slightly shorter, though just as unruly as mine was, and clearly visible through it was a . . . MY scar! Also, his face seemed to be a touch thinner. I thought of a question.
"Uh . . . WHEN are you from?"
"I've come from precisely one year in the future, hence I'm just a bit different looking, as you've noticed," he said. Then, he laughed, and said, "I could add 'as I noticed a year ago,' to be truthful. Of course, a year ago MY present consciousness, NOW inside THIS head," he said, pointing to the side of his head, "WAS in YOUR head!"
I shook my head, still attempting to digest in full what was happening.
"AND," he added, "it was in your head a year ago last night AND this morning, when I experienced exactly what you did. Is there anything lovelier than the way Hermione looks and sounds and feels when she has an orgasm?"
He and I both blushed at the recollection, and he continued.
"Why am I asking you such a question when both us know the answer? No, both of us don't . . . yet," he said, "which us brings to the business at hand. We don't have much time for what we must do before the duel. You will pay a visit to the Room of Requirement, where you'll stay until fifteen minutes before noon. I must see McGonagall, Flitwick, Remus, Tonks, Ron, Ginny, Dobby, and a few of his House-Elf associates."
"What?" I said.
"You'll be visiting with Hermione and discussing your future life together. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but since I did, I must . . . if you get my meaning," he said. "Last night, Hermione did something that today she both regrets and considers to have been dishonest - "
"WHAT?" I yelled, interrupting.
"Shut up, and listen, my ignorant former self!" he said, "it has nothing to do either with shagging you or proclaiming her long-felt love. Before the bedroom gymnastics meet, she . . . she didn't drink a contraceptive potion or use a charm of the same purpose. In fact, they were quite opposite in their intended effects!"
"You . . . you mean . . .oh, no!" was all I could stammer.
"Oh, YES! Given today's level of magical diagnostic charms, she won't be able to confirm for three more days that she is, as they used to say in olden times, 'with child,' but I assure you that her fertility potion and spell DID work," he said. "You will go to her very shortly, and you will say just the right things to comfort her. Not to be repetitive, but I know that you will do so, because I did!"
He hesitated, and then he continued, "by the way, in nine months, on New Years Day to be precise, you'll welcome your son into the world. I'd give anything to be able to be there with you to experience it again, but it won't be possible. Also, for what it's worth, it won't do you any good to argue with Hermione about his name. She'll win, and he will be 'Harry James Potter, Jr.' like it or not!"
"But . . . but . . . what about the duel!" I exclaimed, desperate to change the subject, until I could adjust to this latest revelation, "I've got to win first, don't I? How the devil am I to defeat Vol - "
"Don't worry about a thing. You . . . I . . . WE will defeat him, and we'll do so very easily and quickly. What else can I say but to note that from MY previous point of view, we already DID win!" he said. "Now, let's leave and take care of matters."
We left together, and we caused quite a stir among those in the common room, as two Harry Potters calmly walked past them and out the portrait hole. Shortly, we split up, and I headed up to the seventh floor.
* * * * *
I entered the Room of Requirement and noticed that it resembled nothing so much as a very large sitting room, complete with a large window facing what appeared to be a seashore landscape. Hermione was sitting on a large couch, clutching a large picture frame to her chest, and crying.
Without saying a word, I sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. She buried her face in my chest, and she sobbed even more loudly. Finally, she spoke.
"Harry, last night I . . . I did something so terrible that . . . that you're going to hate me," she blubbered.
"NO, Hermione! Last night was the most wonderful of my life," I said, hugging her.
"NO, HARRY! I'm . . . I'm not talking about what WE did, but about . . . about - " she said, but I cut her off.
"About the 'contraception' potion and spell . . . that actually were quite different . . . is that what you were going to say?" I asked, and I gave her a big grin.
"But . . . but . . . how?" she stammered.
"Brace yourself, Hermione, but they worked very well indeed! Exactly nine months from today, on New Years Day in fact, we're going to receive Harry, Jr. into our family!" I said, still smiling. "I'm going to be . . . hell, I already AM the happiest man alive!" I added, and I kissed her.
"Harry, you can't possibly know - " she said, staring at me.
"Ah, but I can and I do know it as an absolute certainty! What's more, I know that I will be there with you, therefore, I WILL win the duel today. It's the only logical conclusion," I said. "By the way, let's get married later today."
Hermione was speechless for several very long seconds, but she recovered, and just as she looked as if she was about to pepper me with questions, I interrupted her. Speaking rapidly, I gave her a synopsis of my discovery of the parchment last night and of this morning's visit with 'myself.' I pulled the parchment from my pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes widened when she read it, and they enlarged even more as she recognized my handwriting.
I picked up the large frame that she had been holding, and it was my turn to be surprised. In it was a magical moving photograph of three people. Two of them, Hermione and I, were smiling and waving toward the viewer. The third one was a sleeping infant being held in her arms. I looked at Hermione, who was blushing deeply.
"I . . . I guess that the Room thought that I . . . that WE needed to see this," she said softly.
"We're going to do more than just see it - we're going to live it!" I said, "aren't we . . . my soon-to-be Mrs. Potter . . . or would you prefer that I should become Mr. Granger?"
Hermione giggled. "Definitely the first option is preferable. 'Hermione Potter' does sound so nice."
"As always, you're correct. Besides, 'Harry Granger' almost sounds like some creature that Luna Lovegood should be writing about in The Quibbler or be hunting for in the North Woods, or wherever," I said.
We talked for a while, and having finally gotten a chance to fire away at me with questions, and having received answers, however bizarre and unsatisfying that some of them may have been, Hermione decided to stop talking. We held each other for a long time, until we heard a knock on the door.
* * * * *
"Older Harry," as I had decided to call him, was outside, accompanied by Flitwick, Remus, and Tonks. When we walked into the corridor, we saw another group, which included McGonagall, Ron, and Ginny.
Everyone started to speak at once, but quickly, Older Harry took charge.
"QUIET!" he yelled. "We haven't much time. The first order of business is this. Headmistress McGonagall has my Time Turner and my . . . OUR invisibility cloak and Marauders' Map, AND she has hidden them away, pending . . . 'Young Harry's' return from the duel. Therefore," he said, staring at Hermione, Ron, and Ginny in turn, "there will be NO 'hidden' observers at the Quidditch Pitch."
All three spoke at once, obviously trying to object.
"Please!" he continued, "we haven't much time. You three WILL stay with the Headmistress INSIDE the castle. There will be no sneaking up to certain high towers, in order to try to see what's happening. And, don't try to use brooms to escape, because you'll discover that every single one in the castle has been charmed to be inactive until quarter after the hour."
He paused, and then he smiled. "Trust me. The duel will be over before you know it, and your Harry will return quickly. Voldemort and the members of his 'official' party will try to play a few dirty tricks, but we're well prepared for them. There will be plenty of time before dinner for the wedding ceremony." He gave me a wink, and I felt my face burning.
Hermione blushed, as well, and both Ginny and Tonks looked dumbfounded, but only for a few seconds, and then they began to squeal and they rushed to embrace Hermione.
"Okay, folks, let's go and end a war!" he said.
* * * * *
As our "official" party left the front doors of the castle, Older Harry turned to me and said, "I'll be disappearing from view, but only for a few minutes."
He snapped his fingers once and seemed to melt away, just as Dobby the House-Elf had done in the past. I was surprised to hear his voice, as if he still was walking by my side.
"Don't worry, Harry. Rest assured that I will be here with you. Insofar as what you should say once we're inside the arena, just wing it and be yourself."
Our group approached the main entrance of the Quidditch Pitch, to find Voldemort and Company already there. The Dark Lord stared directly at me and then slightly to my side. He shook his head and tried again, but he couldn't seem to get his eyes to focus properly.
A very uneasy looking Rufus Scrimgeour was standing at the gate. He cleared his throat, and spoke.
"Pursuant to the ancient laws of honorable individual combat, a challenge has been issued and accepted. Seconds and Witnesses will accompany the duelists into the chosen arena, but all save the principals shall refrain from any participation. The winner shall be the participant who satisfies two conditions. He must return to this place, outside the main gate, and he must not leave a living opponent within the arena. Do all agree to what has been stated and to all other previously negotiated conditions of the duel?"
"Yes!" came a chorus of voices, including one from my hidden older self. I gave what I felt to be a suitable stare, of equal parts contempt, confidence, and inscrutability, and then I smiled.
Voldemort obviously felt that something was amiss, but he could not quite grasp its true nature. His agitated state of mind was affecting Belletrix, Malfoy, and Snape, who seemed to be somewhat confused.
However, our groups walked through the gate. Voldemort and I made for areas under and slightly in front of a set of goal hoop poles, and each of our parties walked to what would have been opposite sidelines, had this been a soccer field. Then, the two of us began to walk toward each other. We stopped in the center of the field, separated by about twenty feet.
"Have you anything to say, Potter, before I dispose of you once and for all," Voldemort hissed.
"I'll have plenty to say later, though you won't be around to hear it," I answered. "But, before YOU become the actual 'dispose-ee,' you deserve to hear ALL of the famous prophecy about us . . . and so do those three sacks of shit of yours, who obviously crawled out from under some compost heap!" To a stunned silence from all in the arena, I recited it.
Voldemort said nothing in reply, but he made his first move, and he attempted to conjure the Dark Mark in the sky above the pitch.
No sooner had it appeared than a bolt of golden lightning shot up from beside me. Just before it struck the Dark Mark, it transformed itself into a brilliant golden phoenix head, which consumed the Mark, took its place, and it began to sing a haunting "song," purely of musical notes.
Voldemort was NOT happy with this. He waved his wand, inaugurating a first violation of the rules. Hundreds of Dementors, bunched together so closely that their ragged and flapping cloaks were brushing each other, appeared over the top of the high stands behind him. They began to make a beeline straight for me!
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I yelled, thinking about Hermione last night and the picture this morning.
My patronus stag exploded from my wand, larger and faster than it ever had been before. Its brightness almost overwhelmed the noon sun overhead, and when it collided with the vanguard of the Dementors, they were blown off in all directions. Slowly, however, they began to regroup, though at a longer distance away.
"That was very impressive, Potter," said Voldemort, as he waved his wand and the Dementors began a new charge, "but, alas, not impressive enough!"
I heard a soft but distinct popping sound, and Older Harry appeared beside me.
"Maybe it wasn't, but this one WILL be!" he said, extending his right hand.
From his fingertips, a near twin of my patronus burst out, and it rocketed straight to the Dementors. Its only difference was its color, which constantly changed, cycling from red through orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo, to violet - the colors of the rainbow and the visible light spectrum - and then reversing itself. Each time it paused at the end of a cycle, it seemed to disappear from view, but a group of Dementors would shriek and burst into flames. All that remained of each one of them was a fine mist of black powder, which fell downward like snowflakes and melted away while still well off the ground.
My own "ordinary" patronus had begun to cooperate with its new "partner," and it started herding Dementors attempting to flee back toward their fate. It suddenly struck me that it was the invisible infrared and ultraviolet "colors" - or frequencies, to be more accurate, just beyond red and violet - that were destroying the vile creatures. It was over in less than a minute, and the patroni returned to us, mine flowing into my wand, while that of Older Harry simply merged into his body.
"What underhanded . . . CHEATING trickery is this," Voldemort bellowed, recovering his senses. Even he had watched the brief spectacle, completely transfixed by it. "Who are you?" he demanded of Older Harry.
"I'm Harry Potter . . . though not the same version of him that you've tried to kill repeatedly," said Older Harry.
Voldemort looked from him to me. He hesitated, seemingly puzzled, but then quickly he pointed his wand at me. I braced my self for a spell that never came. Older Harry had made a quick motion with a hand, and Voldemort was frozen in place. He screamed something unintelligible, indicating that his mouth was working, but the rest of his body remained as unmoving as a statue.
"I REALLY wouldn't do that, if I were you," said Older Harry. "The indisputable facts that I stand here AND that I have come from the future prove that you cannot possibly kill my younger self."
Voldemort tried to struggle, but all that he could move was his head.
"IF you managed to kill him, then logically I couldn't be here. If I couldn't be here, then the mass that makes up the 160 pounds of bone, muscle, blood, brains, and, er, other parts of me would have to obey the universe's law of conservation of mass and energy. Instantly, ALL of me would be transformed perfectly into pure energy, and such a quantity confined in such a small space would result in . . . an event that would dwarf a Muggle nuclear explosion. No one within miles would survive, and this includes what little remains of your putrid and worthless soul. Wait a minute. Why am I telling you this?""
He hesitated, and just as I was about to say something, he turned to me, "I know, I know! I just told him because . . . I told him . . . before. Right, Junior?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to Voldemort.
"So, Tom Riddle, this is the end. Since you seem to have been fascinated with Dementors, which unfortunately no longer exist, how would you like a very personal look at a reasonable facsimile of their famous 'Kiss?' No? Well, that's too bad!"
He approached Voldemort so closely that their noses were but a few inches apart. He opened his mouth, and Voldemort opened his, emitting a sigh that seemed to be one almost of resignation. Then, the features of Voldemort's face seemed to shift around and blur, and very quickly a small ball of weakly pulsing light, barely visible in the sunshine, leapt from his mouth to Older Harry's. Finally, Voldemort's empty and dead body fell to the ground.
Older Harry winked at me, and he made several complex motions with his hands. Four tall stakes materialized near the main gate, arranged roughly in a square, and then one of them lengthened, so that its upper point was a few feet higher than the others. With another hand motion, Voldemort's head separated itself from his corpse, flew through the air, and landed atop the tallest stake, its lifeless eyes staring away from us and toward the gate. Yet another wave of Older Harry's hand caused the mounted head to become transformed into one of black marble.
"Well, truly this is the end, in more than one way," said Older Harry, "I'm sorry, but as you discovered with some of the horcruxes, the only certain method of destroying soul fractions is through intense heat. So . . . since the last existing part of Tom Riddle happens to be inside me, then . . . it's goodbye, Young Harry . . . I know that you'll have a great life."
He hesitated again, shook his head and chuckled, "why DO I continue to say such things, especially since I KNOW that they'll happen, because they've happened already . . . at least to me?"
"Don't!" I yelled, finding my voice, "PLEASE don't!"
"I'm sorry, but I must . . . because I DID!" he answered. "To mangle the metaphor, I'm killing two wizards with one spell. Take care, Harry, and don't mourn for me. LIVE for me instead! You can't accept or believe it now, but one day you will understand. It is too bad that we can't reincarnate ourselves, in the manner of the phoenix. Goodbye."
***** BEGIN POSSIBLY EXCESSIVE GORE WARNING ****
With that, a perfect clear sphere appeared, enclosing Older Harry and Voldemort's bodily remains. Within it, an intense fireball blossomed, obscuring all inside the sphere for several seconds. Then, it changed into a boiling, roiling mass of smoke and flames. Finally, it dissipated, leaving what appeared to be blackened skeletons, one standing briefly before it and the other disintegrated into finely powdered ash. Then, both the ash and the sphere disappeared, leaving nothing except for a scorched patch of grass.
I sobbed, and I laughed. 'I may be going crazy,' I thought, 'but I swear that just before it disintegrated, the upright skeleton nodded its skull and waved a hand at me!'
My thoughts were yanked away by the sound of a snarl. I looked up and saw Severus Snape extending his wand and pointing at me. Before he could utter another sound, Professor Flitwick did, and a bolt of purple light struck Snape in the center of his chest.
He screamed, and his body began to jerk spasmodically, before it collapsed and flowed down to the ground. His head was cocked to one side and was resting on what appeared to be a pile of black robes. Snape's mouth was working overtime in an attempt to express hopefully very intense pain, but no sound emerged from it.
I heard a high-pitched, feminine shriek that was cut off abruptly. I looked up to see the obvious explanation. Belletrix Lestrange's head was lying ten feet away from the multiple pieces of her still slightly twitching body parts. She had made the mistake of attempting to join Snape's attack on me, but both Remus and Tonks had nailed her with multiple severing spells.
'Where was Malfoy?' I thought, and then I was answered by the most bloodcurdling screams yet heard that day.
I looked in the direction of the racket, and I came close to losing the breakfast that I hadn't even eaten. Lucius Malfoy had been set upon by a half dozen House-Elves, including Dobby. Four were holding him spread-eagled on the ground, and the other two were meting out a very grisly sort of justice to his body.
Dobby was removing the skin from his face and head, taking great care to do so only a little at a time. The last Elf was between Malfoy's legs, and I thought, 'oh, my God! Is he doing what I think he's doing?'
An earsplitting, indescribable noise from Malfoy verified that the Elf had performed on him the same sort of operation done by ranchers and horsemen to create steers and geldings.
Tonks fainted dead away, when the bloody mass formerly attached to Lucius landed at her feet, having been tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder by the Elf.
"Dobby," I yelled, "stop it, stop it, now!"
"Does Mister Harry Potter refer to the noise? Dobby can make it stop immediately!" Dobby said.
Sure enough, Malfoy's screams ended right away, but it was not due to Dobby's ceasing his torture, but rather because he removed the offending tongue.
***** END POSSIBLY EXCESSIVE GORE WARNING *****
Remus and Flitwick looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Each of them approached one of the still-barely-alive Death Eaters and performed a quick Avada Kedavra, ending their misery.
Dobby looked up, and he seemed quite surprised. "Dobby is very sorry if he gave offense, but Dobby saw that his former master was about to attack Harry Potter! So, Dobby and his friends hit Mr. Malfoy back first!"
I was speechless, but both Remus and Flitwick chuckled, and Tonks spoke, "who possibly could argue with logic so impeccable as that?"
"We must move to our side of the field for a moment," Professor Flitwick said. We walked away from the carnage, and immediately, a delayed spell occurred. Three beams of light came from the marble Voldemort head, and in quick succession, the heads from three bodies popped into the air and flew to the three open stakes near the gate. Each head impaled itself, and each was transformed into black marble.
Remus was the first to speak. "I believe that we just witnessed the final acts of magic of Harry Potter." He looked at me, and his face reddened slightly. Tonks gave a loud sob, and she embraced Remus.
Our group headed for the gate.
"I saw what happened to . . . to the other two, but what did you do to Snape, Professor?" I asked of Flitwick.
"I did something new, an invention of mine that was inspired by you, Harry, or rather, it was inspired by something that happened to you," said Flitwick, smiling "Obviously, it should be banned as a fourth 'Unforgivable.' I call it the 'Boneless Curse,' for the self-evident reason that every bone in Severus Snape's body, save only his skull and jaw . . . and possibly the tiny inner ear ones, ceased to exist."
I shuddered as I remembered the attempt in my second year by legendary buffoon and Defense teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, to repair a broken forearm that I had suffered during a Quidditch match.
"But, there's no virtue in regretting or trying to avoid what must be done. He had to be stopped quickly, Harry," said the professor.
"I know," I said. "Thanks for helping. Thanks to everyone," I added, looking at Remus and Tonks and at Dobby and his pals.
As I expected, Dobby began to blubber, so hastily I suggested to his friends that perhaps they should take him to the kitchen and help him to recover with a few butterbeers. We reached the gate, and my fellows stopped.
"You must exit first, Harry," said Remus.
I did so, and I was shocked to see an enormous crowd filling the grounds in front of me.
A few moans were heard from far to my right, and some diehard had the nerve to send a spell in my direction. It fell well short of me, and the Death Eater was subdued quickly. A couple of small melees ensued, but they ended as quickly as they began, due to the sheer numbers of people from our side.
Finally, an immense volume of cheers began. I glared at the large crowd, turned, and looked at the castle. I had seen very little to cheer about, nor did I care about anything else except to go somewhere private and to cry.
I saw Minister Scrimgeour and his usual retinue of toadies approaching. Just as he opened his mouth, I shouted, "bugger off, arsehole!" I gestured to the set of stakes inside the gate of the Quidditch Pitch, and I added, "we won and he . . . they lost - end of story. Now, leave me the fuck alone!"
I turned my back to him, and I started to walk away. Remus and Tonks fell into stride next to me, and each wrapped an arm around me.
"Harry . . .they don't k know . . . they can't know how you're feeling . . . what you've been through," said Remus.
"Yes," added Tonks, beginning to cry again, "but we'll always remember. We'll . . . oh, shit!"
"Harry," came Flitwick's voice. "You must remember what he said, and you must get on with your life. You have Hermione to care for and . . . and other considerations, as well."
We walked through the doors of the castle, and stopped in the large entrance hall. Assembled in front of us were the students and faculty, all of whom were standing still and wearing looks of apprehension of their faces.
I took a deep breath. I looked back at the doorway, and I saw that a mob was heading toward it. The Ministry pukes and some other characters, probably members of the press, were in the lead.
Professor Flitwick and Headmistress McGonagall, noting the look on my face, acted quickly with their wands, closing and locking the doors. Tonks added a finishing touch by casting a silencing spell, which eliminated the noise of the shouts and pounding from the outside.
"Why don't we go into the Great Hall, and I try to describe what happened," I said, and then very suddenly I had an armful of Hermione, who was doing her best to force her tongue down my throat. This was accompanied by admiring sounds from all present, save Ron, who seemed to be unsure of how to react.
After extracting myself partially from Hermione, all of us did manage to enter the Great Hall. The tables had been rearranged into a "U" shape, with one additional table at the open end. Somehow, everyone found an appropriate seat, and I began to tall the story of the duel.
A brief aside from the narrative was necessary to explain about Older Harry to those still unaware of him. A few additional breaks occurred, when Flitwick, Remus, or Tonks added something.
Of course, I omitted the goriest of the details concerning the deaths of Snape, Malfoy, and Belletrix, and when I reached the point when we returned to the castle, there was stunned silence on the part of some, and loud unashamed weeping by others, including Hermione.
Ron and a couple of the less emotional wizards began to clap, but when they noticed that most of their fellows both were both refusing to join in and were glaring at them, they stopped.
"What . . . what's the matter? We . . . we won, didn't we?" asked Ron.
I expected Hermione to explode, but instead, she spoke in a soft voice, "Ron, didn't you hear what he said? Older Harry sacrificed himself to guarantee V-Voldemort's death."
"So?" said Ron, "that was THAT Harry. Our Harry's sitting right there next to you, and he . . . he looks okay."
'Uh, oh,' I thought, 'now, he's going to get it!'
Unfortunately, I was correct. This time, Ginny beat Hermione to the punch.
"You . . . you . . . what's WRONG with you, you moron!" she yelled. "Don't you get it? 'THAT Harry' is . . . or will be 'OUR Harry' in ONE YEAR!"
Ron still had a puzzled expression, but then comprehension dawned.
"Yes, Ron," said Hermione, "exactly one year from today, our . . . MY Harry, is going to put a Time Turner around his neck, activate it, and return to the past . . . to sometime last night, to be precise."
"But . . . but why?" said Ron, with an expression that combined horror and disbelief.
"Mr. Weasley," said the Headmistress, teary eyed, "I'm afraid that your sister and Hermione are correct. The Laws of Time are quite rigid, and the effects of paradoxes induced in the past, though not totally understood, nevertheless are inexorable." She continued, addressing Flitwick, "Filius, can you think of any way . . . "
"No, Minerva," he replied, "all of you have stated it quite well. In the future, apparently in exactly one year, Harry must return for the simplest of reasons . . . because he already did. I'm afraid that there's no way out. I wish there was . . . I wish . . . truly, I am sorry."
"So, Ron," said Hermione, "now do you understand that Harry has a year to live, and then . . . then he will die?"
To be continued
A/N: Believe it or not, the story will be resolved in a happy ending (of sorts) in the final chapter and epilogue, coming very soon.