Chapter 27 - Log Date 2561708
"Rudy, why are we here?" Annie demanded Jerry remained at her side, tightly holding her hand.
"Your mum gave us a command to get you all away from the Manor. She felt it was a trap," Rudy replied.
"Of course it was a trap; we all knew that going in," Annie hissed.
"Mum and Dad are still there. We have to help them," Ben insisted.
"No. Dad has told me time and again they are better trained for defense then we're trained to aid them. All we can do is remain here and wait," Jerry said.
"Jerry's right, Annie. Your parents have faced worse and always emerged from the conflict," Radulphus said.
"We have to do something; maybe contact Gnome?" Ben asked.
"No one knows we are here. This was supposed to be our secondary rendezvous point."
"Where exactly are we?" Annie asked. She looked around for the first time since arriving seconds earlier. The furnishings were old and worn; wall hangings were strategically placed to hide holes in the walls. Tattered drapes on the windows scarcely covered the frames.
"Remus's home. He kept the location private. He told us only this morning in case we needed another place to stay," Radulphus replied.
"We have little choice but to wait for a sign from your parents," Lucia said.
"We'd do well to make the best of this; they should be here in a few hours," Radulphus added.
A loud pop startled the group; a tattered wizard fell to the floor. His overcoat, although old and tattered, showed fresh wounds from a recent battle. A crimson line seeped from under his coat, but not a sound escaped from his lips.
"Remus!" Lucia exclaimed, his unexpected appearance startling them all.
Radulphus dropped to the fallen wizard's side and rolled him to his back. A fresh gash across his face revealed bone and one eye was swollen shut, but the other one was open and fixed into an empty stare. Further examination was unnecessary once the full extent of his injuries was obvious.
"He's dead," Radulphus managed to say, quickly covering his body to prevent the children from witnessing the grisly scene.
"No!" Annie shouted, and tried to break free and run to Remus, but she was held fast by Jerry.
"He had to have been wounded as he tried to escape," Lucia managed to say, having regained her composure. A quick wave of her wand expanded his tattered cloak to cover his remains.
"Annie, he's gone. No one could have survived being splinched nearly in half," Radulphus muttered, still staring at the figure before them.
"From the age of this rubble, these ruins must be at least a hundred years old," Harry observed.
"Do be quiet and let me finish my calculations," Hermione scolded while maintaining her gaze into the stars.
Harry shook his head and quietly looked at the rubble. The walls were reduced to only a foot above the foundation, but they were obviously not strongly fortified. Built in the mid-nineteenth century, judging from the appearance of the construction. That would add credibility to being transported in space, not time.
"Alright, I have some rough calculations, Harry, but they can't be correct," she called to him.
"Right," he called back and trotted back to her.
"Polaris, the North Star, never moves and is a reasonable point to gauge the relative position of the others, but it's not in the sky. Sirius, the one Sirius Black was named after, should be over there. None of these stars are where they should be. I estimate we are at least two, maybe three hundred years into the future," Hermione related.
"I would say closer to seven to ten thousand miles and three days," Harry replied.
"And how did you arrive at that figure?" She asked, slightly annoyed.
"I found a discarded newspaper, the Sydney Times . We must have been caught in some form of an Apparation spell, just as I tried to shield us," he answered.
"If we weren't in such a mess, I'd answer your cheek appropriately. For now, be forewarned; I shan't let this pass," Hermione replied with a slight smirk.
"I await your reprisals, milady. But I suggest we find a way home; with luck the children are safely away. Have you any thoughts on our next move?" he asked.
"A series of Apparations across the continents, or we can purchase conventional air fare. And we have to face Abraham straight away," she replied and pulled her wand to Disapparate. "We need to leave now," she insisted.
Harry nodded and waved his hand over his form. A single pop split the night air, leaving Hermione standing alone in the rubble.
"Harry!" she screamed, her eyes widening. She waved her wand again, but nothing happened. She closed her eyes to concentrate. 'Bugger it, you've too much on your mind,' she told herself and focused all her power on a single vision of her home. She repeated her wave and again nothing.
Moments passed, and many attempts later she collapsed from the repeated strain and failures. She stared at her wand in the dark. She raised it up, "Lumos," she ordered, but only a faint glow flickered from her wand.
"What's happened to me?" she asked in frustration. A familiar pop near her drew her confused mind from her failure to perform simple magic.
"Hermione? You never came, I waited a moment before I returned," Harry said, he sat by her side and held her shoulder.
"I-I can't perform any magic," she muttered.
"It may be your wand; its possible these 'trips' have damaged it," he said to bolster her spirits.
"No, it's me. When that other Ron hit me, I couldn't stop the bleeding. I've never needed a wand to heal before. Something's happened to me," she said from behind misty eyes.
"Darling, take my hand," he said. She took his hand in hers; he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her palm; the mirror of his scar was still visible. The couple vanished together.
"Two for the next available flight to London , please," Hermione asked at the ticket counter.
"May I see your passports?" the attendant asked.
Harry reached into his rucksack and removed a pair of notepads. He Transfigured them into proper documentation for the two of them, and handed them to the attendant. She opened both, examined the photos and stamped them for departure.
"Your flight is in two hours. Feel free to wait in the observation lounge on the second floor, in the international flights terminal," she said with a pasted-on smile.
"A spot of dinner would be settling," Hermione added as Harry accepted the tickets from the attendant.
"You can use the lift to the right; it will take you directly to the restaurant," the attendant added.
"Good, thank you," Harry added and they left for the lift.
Owing to the late hour, the terminal was fairly deserted. A young couple sat in the row of seats facing the windows, one mindlessly reading the same page in his newspaper, while the girl with him watched the aircraft taxi and land.
A small pub across the walkway from the lift remained nearly deserted; two businessmen sat at the bar, each nursing a pint. A waitress sat at a back table. Rows of empty salt and pepper shakers lined the table, and two large containers and a scoop occupied her attention. The barman busied himself with drying the same glass.
Harry pressed the button to call the lift and they waited, both feeling as if many eyes were watching their every move. Only a few moments passed until the lift opened, but that time seemed eternal.
Once the doors opened, they entered the lift and turned to face the door. As it closed, Harry glanced at the few people in the terminal, all eyes seemed fixed on them.
Once the doors closed, Hermione broke the silence. "We're being watched, Harry. Something's not right…" She grabbed a strap of the rucksack he was holding.
The lift stopped.
The light dimmed and quickly extinguished.
"Harry?" she called out before the floor vanished and they fell into a familiar void. The darkness engulfed them, blocking all senses. Each held the thin strap of the rucksack to prevent losing each other.
This time, there was nothing. No specks of light in the distance. No scenes flashed before them.
They didn't even feel the sensation of falling. There was nothing.
Hermione finally managed to feel something solid under her. Murmurs in the background led her to believe there were others. She slowly opened her eyes. The blinding glare of the lights was more painful than the darkness. She tried to rub the sting from her eyes, but her arms were held fast, her legs too were bound.
"Explain yourself, why have you returned?" a distinct voice demanded.
"Returned?" she asked, her mouth was as dry as sand, forcing a roughened voice.
"It's not her. She had no way of returning," a woman's voice offered.
"She and the others knew the risks; they knew they couldn't return," a third voice said.
"Who are you?" she asked, her hoarse voice irritating her throat with each word.
"Agent Hoth. Who is that person that returned with you?" the first voice demanded.
"My…" she cleared her throat, "My name is Hermione Potter; that is my husband," she managed to say in a clearer voice.
"Where are you from?" demanded the second voice.
"Our home in is England , in Godric's Hollow," she answered.
"It's the same story he gave; they appear to be who they claim," the woman offered her companions.
"It's possible, she's nearly twice as old as Aurellia was when they left. She could have assumed this new identity before returning," yet another voice added.
"That would explain why she is traveling with a non-magical human; they had only the one wand between them," another commented.
"Aurellia? Aurellia of the House of Hoth?" Hermione asked.
"Agent Hoth, yes. Your resemblance to her initiated this research. She has been… on assignment," the woman replied.
"Tracking someone in the past?" Hermione asked confidently and then asked, "If it's not too much trouble, what is the date?"
"The day is 2561708," was the reply.
"That would be, sometime in the year 2301," she said working out the calculations in her head.
The mumblings from the inquisitors grew stronger, affording Hermione a moment to think.
" August 14, 2301 , using the old method; what is the year you are from?" the woman asked, her tone implied the answer was inconsequential.
"2024, July 10 th," she replied. The bonds that held her loosened, allowing her to sit up. She began to rub her wrists where they were bound.
"Details of your era are not complete. Many of the records were destroyed approximately thirty years from that time. The actions of one person in the year 2056 forced the creation of this Continuum to monitor and preserve the past. We have been ordered by the Council…"
"The Council of Twelve?" Hermione interrupted.
"Yes, the Council of Twelve. So you are aware of all this?" a woman asked.
"Somewhat. We discovered a manuscript with information that detailed this era and included facts pertaining to the Council," replied Hermione.
"Who is the author of this document?"
"I'm afraid I have nothing left to say, until I can see my husband," she insisted.
"You can rejoin him once you have satisfied this tribunal of your claims. We have…" the first voice started before he stopped suddenly. Muffled murmurs between the inquisitors had Hermione straining to hear the conversation.
"…test results…"
"…Officer Hoth…"
"…Clearly a security hazard…"
"…you knew them…"
"…genetic match…"
"…possible coincidence…"
"…created a paradox?"
"…I think so, but I can't be certain…"
"Is there a problem?" she finally asked.
"In a word, yes, we have an issue with your presence. We ran some… tests before bringing you here, you and your accomplice…" the kinder woman's voice began to relate.
"Husband. He's my husband," she said angrily.
"Right, husband," the woman corrected.
"And what tests?" Hermione demanded.
"She can't be informed; the directives prohibit that knowledge," another quickly interrupted.
"The tests show you do not belong in this era," the woman finished.
"I bloody well could have told you that. I'm an officer of…" Hermione said in her commanding voice.
"…of nothing that exists today. The 'Ministry' of yours was no longer necessary. Your 'elite' forces were disbanded centuries ago. One man's influence exposed your world. Now I insist you submit to our questions or we will be forced to restrain you again," the first, authoritative voice instructed.
"Doesn't exist?" she repeated more to herself.
"Now, why are you here?" the inquisitor demanded.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"How did you get here? There's no means of traveling forward, as you surely must know," a second voice grilled her.
"Forward?" she repeated, the shock of her predicament had set in. She slumped back to the table she was strapped to only moments before.
"Explain these manuscripts," a voice demanded, as a pair of worn, leather bound books were tossed on a table nearby.
Hermione shook her head in denial, and raised a hand. Her face stared at her hand, at the mirror of Harry's scar in her palm. "Harry," she muttered. "Where's Harry?"
"Explain your actions and you can see him," a voice from the darkness offered.
She shook her head and concentrated; she rolled her hand over and pointed her fingers at the dark void where the voices originated.
"If you expect to use magic, you'll find that quite impossible. Your 'abilities' have been neutralized. Your past actions have proven you cannot be trusted," the first voice said, contempt now stained his tone.
"Neutralized?" she repeated.
"The details should not concern you; these are security precautions we must enforce," a confident voice said.
She listened to the ramblings and incessant questioning and refused to answer. The only sensation she now noticed was the dull sting in her hand, as if she struck it on a sharp rock. The sting grew stronger, and she began to rub her palm to ease the sting. She failed to notice the multitude of questions fired at her not even waiting for a reply.
"…your mission…"
"How did you…"
"…manuscripts…"
"I…" she began allowing her anger to grow. "…am…She pointed her hand at the darkness once more and identified herself, "…the Lost Witch, and you do not exist!"
A brilliant flash of light erupted in the chamber, and the group of six people at a raised table sat frozen. A light grin spread on her face as she lowered her arm, satisfied with her handiwork.
"You'll need this; it's your original one. They must have changed it when we arrived," a familiar voice said as a thin shaft landed in her lap.
She picked up her wand and the grin widened into a smile, "Harry, how did you find me?" she asked.
"Simple, I got angry and I was able to sense you in pain. All I had to do was follow that sensation to you. They thought I was defenseless and was bound with simple Muggle restraints," he said as he swept into the room to her side.
"Do you have any idea what's happened?" she asked.
"Only what I've deduced from their questioning. As advanced as they want to appear, all I had to do was let them believe I succumbed to their treatments and they gave up on any further questioning. I hope they learn from that error," he replied.
"Harry, I have a bad feeling we're involved in a time paradox. Remember our third year and the problems the time turned caused? And that only involved an hour or so," she said.
"I've thought about it," he replied, nodding his head.
"They mistook me for one of the three they sent back; that's why they questioned us. There appears to be some link between us, or more exactly, me and the one named Aurellia Hoth," she said.
Harry shook his head, "They thought I was a relative too," he said.
"No, not a relative, they firmly believe I am her," she corrected.
Harry walked to the frozen group of interrogators, and waved a hand over one. The man coughed when he was released then fell to his knees. Harry maintained an offensive posture, his hand pointed directly at the man's heart.
"Yes, we did believe she had returned. She knew she could never return to this time, not without returning the convict to his prison. She and her team failed in that assignment."
"From what we know, she and the others were unable to unite in the past for that task," Harry related.
"Our information after their departure here is sketchy at best, We had to assume they failed," he said.
"Failed? They were doomed to failure at the start. You failed to contain him here; the reports we read said he escaped from your cell, from your custody. How did you expect only three people to succeed?" Harry ranted.
"They had the best chance of any of our agents. You must understand we've been tracking him for several millennia," the former interrogator replied.
"We know; we've read Sorcath's journal. He was quite good at documenting his actions," Hermione said.
Harry released his spell, allowing the man to stand, "We have a plan, but we were hoping to learn more about your escaped prisoner: his weaknesses and strengths," he said.
"If I may offer a truce, we may be able to work together," his former captive asked.
"You mentioned a number of details when you were interrogating me. I insist on full disclosure," Hermione insisted.
"I'm afraid we can not reveal any details about your future, that knowledge may alter our past," he replied.
"Then tell me about Hoth. Why did you insist I was this Agent Hoth?" Hermione demanded.
He stood and pointed to a wall display. "If I may?" He retrieved an electronic device from a table and pointed it to the screen. Three images appeared; two men and a woman with a strong resemblance to a younger Hermione, twenty years younger.
Hermione turned to the other interrogators who had been watching in forced silence. "Harry, please release this one," she said pointing to the woman that came closest to defending her.
He waved his hand, the air shimmered and she fell free of her bonds.
"Now, you implied there is a genetic match between Aurellia Hoth and myself. That implies she is my ancestor you created by sending her to the past. That means you and this 'council' have violated your own rules," she dictated as if beginning a history lesson.
The newly released woman stood and brushed her dress straight, hoping to buy time to answer. "Yes, we thought you, or rather, she returned. But based on the DNA sample we took from you, we assumed there was a mutation or alteration in her ancestry," the woman replied while continually staring at them both.
"Mara is right, the genetic signature from you appeared vastly altered from Agent Hoth. We could only identify a partial match that linked you to her DNA," the other interrogator added.
"Actually, that is not quite true; Aurellia Hoth has a combination of your DNA and your husband's DNA; that correlation hasn't been made yet by my colleagues. She is your descendant, not your ancestor. We believe fourth generation, or your great-great-grand-daughter," replied Mara. Hermione caught the woman's stare, but she averted her eyes quickly. In that instant, Hermione imagined she saw something familiar.
Stunned, both Harry and Hermione stood before the two they had released. Harry shook his head, and waved his hand again over the remaining team of interrogators. Again the air shimmered and the remaining three people fell free of their invisible bonds.
"The only detail we knew about Aurellia was the fact that she is the mother of Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of our school, and he became a key influence on our society. Our history does not reveal much of his past or his family, can you confirm this?" Hermione asked.
The woman nodded and replied to the inquiry, "Your information is inaccurate; she did become involved with a man who hid his true identity from her when they first met. He was from an aristocratic family and assumed she was seeking fame through him since she had no family. But they fell in love with each other and in time she bore a child. That man was Godric Gryffindor many years before he and the others created your school."
"We lost contact with the team. We have only sketchy details of the later descendants. Godric and Agent Hoth had only one child, a daughter from our reports. She had a son and a grandson. Godric and Aurellia passed away together soon after their grandson was born. Further details of that family vanished when the great-grandson turned twenty-five. He and his father disappeared. That's all we knew," the second interrogator added.
"Bugger it all, that means the man I assumed to be my ancestor is really my great-great-great-grand son-in-law?" Harry asked.
"In a word, yes." The man that first interrogated Hermione replied.
"So, you can see your presence here, and your knowledge of your family's future has created a paradox," a secondary interrogator responded.
"We have worked out several details on our own, since we never encountered any reference to Godric's family in other realities, we can assume the only existed in this timeline. We also can assume that the prisoner existed in only one timeline, and originated from this one," Harry related.
"Those are accurate facts as far as we know. The portal you used to traverse into other realities was destroyed shortly after-" the woman interrogator started before being stopped by the leader.
"Shortly after your last journey, before additional harm could be done to the delicate fabric of time," the chief interrogator finished.
"Hopefully we can avoid damaging the timelines any more than they are now," Hermione said to appease the interrogators.
"We cannot allow that; there's already extensive damage to your era. The ripples in time have reached us here, even though this facility is protected from any variations so we can monitor and correct any significant changes," Mara said.
"We have chosen to remain here, permanent residents in this building as the guardians of time. We select those to send back to correct paradoxes very carefully, so they cannot cause additional damage. That is one reason every agent is hand-picked and must volunteer for this service," the secondary interrogator added.
"The paradox is there, since you have the ability to send 'agents' back, you can send us back to the time we left and we can deal with this problem," Harry said.
"If we don't return, have you given thought as to what changes our disappearance will cause?" added Hermione.
The four conversed quietly for a few moments, while Harry began collecting several of their possessions left on the table near them.
Hermione watched and noticed an additional folder, nearly three centimeters thick. She walked to that table, under the pretense of helping Harry, and slipped the folder into the rucksack without being seen.
"We've come to a preliminary decision. Your plan has merit, but there are minor flaws," the leader said.
"Your knowledge of the prisoner is incomplete. However, without revealing your immediate future, there is little we can offer. Your premise that only one of the three we sent to track the prisoner was correct. Each of the three had some special relationship with the prisoner's abilities at some point," Mara said.
"And, Aurellia's relationship was…" asked Harry.
"She's our descendant, or more specifically, mine. Remember I had the Time Turner and the extra knowledge to use it wisely, plus he sent me back in time. That's what you're referring to. Each of your people must have had some exposure to time travel, is that correct?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, that has been a criterion for enlistment. And the fact she was your descendant was another. Time is of the utmost importance, if you are to return, you must leave within the hour," the leader answered.
"One question: if we are unable to find an ancestor of one of your three team members, would we be able to counter the prisoner's abilities?" Harry asked.
"That is doubtful; they have been prepared for this, and should have passed that knowledge down over the years. We cannot help anymore. If you will please follow our technicians, they can prepare you for the vortex," the leader replied.
"We will be able to monitor you but we cannot help in any way except recall you here. You cannot reveal any of this conversation to anyone. If you are successful at containing the prisoner, we can send a team to transport him back here. Good luck," one of the other interrogators added.
Harry and Hermione followed a woman that had entered only a moment before. She wore a stark white jumpsuit and clear glasses. The three exited to a hallway, leaving the group that attempted to hold them alone.
"Sir, you shouldn't have let them go so easily. You do know at some point they will tell others this," one of the team said to the obvious leader.
"There's little they can harm at this point. If they are successful in capturing him, then we send a team back to neutralize them. If they are unsuccessful, then they and all humanity will cease to exist," he said while gathering his few notes.
The others collected their things, except for one woman who smiled when she noticed her dossier was missing.
"Please wait here, the vortex must be adjusted for the two of you," the technician said and pointed to a group of chairs in the small waiting area.
"Thank you," Hermione replied.
"Pardon me, but may we have some water?" Harry asked. The technician nodded and left.
"Water, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"I thought you needed some; you sounded hoarse in there," he replied.
"Thanks, that's sweet," she said. She took his rucksack and sat down, carefully opened the folder, keeping it safely hidden inside the bag.
"Anything to note?" he asked while he examined the surroundings.
"Nothing unusual, we'll review it all when…" she paused, her breathing deepened and her face drained of emotion.
"We arrive home?" Harry asked, and then turned to look at her.
She looked up at him vacantly. "Something's going to happen with our daughter," she said holding back her emotions.
Before either could say another word, a pair of other technicians entered the room and pressed a panel on the wall. Harry snatched his rucksack and gently took Hermione's hand, helping her to her feet. He noticed she was emotionally shaken and had difficulty standing, a detail neither of the technicians noticed.
"If you please, this way," one technician said and pointed the way through the portal.
"Harry, it…" she started to say.
"Shhh, not now," he said hushing her.
"It said Annie will die," she hissed in indistinguishable tones.
"That explains why they only asked about Ben. We'll discuss this in private," Harry replied in Parseltongue.
"But, Annie?" she hissed, even in Parseltongue her voice was shaken.
"You see, I told you they were like that bloke from Falleen," one technician said to the other.
"Here we go, mates. Step inside the lines on the pads and we'll activate the temporal phase limiter. That'll get you home," the other technician said ignoring the other's comments.
The technician began working the controls on a panel, but nothing appeared to happen. Hermione looked at Harry, still emotionally stirred, but he shook his head slightly. She looked back to the technician at the controls, but he seemed odd. He turned away from the control and began walking backward toward them. He began to speed up, and now began to blur as four figures began walking away from where they stood.
The lights in the room flickered in a strobe effect, as others, moving awkwardly, entered the room and left. Finally the room changed, the walls faded, the scene changed to that of a business office, then to a street. Traffic zoomed past them and as quickly as the traffic appeared, also faded. The street faded into a field and finally into a wooded landscape.
"Where are we?" Hermione managed to ask.
"No idea, but from the looks of things, I would rather like to know when are we," he replied.
The clear blue sky left little doubt it was day, but no other clues to their current situation were discernable from their surroundings.
"First, before we try anything, we'd best check your powers," Harry said and took a step back.
"The folder, Harry, it said Annie…" she began.
"No, whatever it said isn't relevant anymore - we can intervene. Now try a simple spell. Transfigure the rock over there to something," he commanded.
She shook her head, but still complied and pointed her wand at the rock. She closed her eyes and focused on that rock. It wobbled on the ground momentarily then stopped.
She gritted her teeth, and recited the incantation, "Fera Verto…" while pointing her wand at the rock.
Still nothing.
Appearing drained and exhausted, she dropped her arm, "I can't…" she mumbled.
Harry put his arm around her and lifted her wand arm again. "Try again," he said softly. His hand touched her arm while she pointed her wand at the rock, and prepared herself to recite the incantation again.
"Fera Verto…" she commanded, a beam of energy flowed from her wand striking the rock. It erupted into a small footstool before them.
"There's obviously something wrong; your magic is very weak," he said, allowing her to collapse into his arms.
"No, your magic transfigured that rock. I've lost my abilities," she mumbled.
"I didn't do that, but I feel your powers struggle. You need to rest; you've had little rest in months. The events in the other realities and dealing with Annie's illness, plus these trips have taken a toll on both of us," he said.
"I can't rest, not until I know both my children are safe, until we are all safe at home," she argued.
"We can't return home, not yet. The children should be safe enough where they are," he said.
She pushed him away, "You don't care enough about them to make certain they are safe? I always thought they, your own children, were important to you," she snapped back angrily.
"They ARE important, but you mean far more to me, you are the one I chose to share my life with. You are the one I love above all others. I know given the choice between them or you…" he said and paused.
"You must choose them. If you love me, then ensure their safety first. My life isn't as relevant. Promise me that, please Harry. If you truly love me, promise me they will come first," she pleaded forcefully.
"Hermione," he started and gently held her hands, "I will do everything to keep you all safe, that I can promise."
She reluctantly nodded her acceptance. "But what of my magic, I've lost it. I'll be a hindrance if it comes to a fight," she said.
Harry smiled and whispered in her ear, "You still have enough magic to bewitch me."
She responded with a fist, playfully to his stomach, "That's cheesy, Potter," she added with a bit of lift to her voice.
"What you need, what we both need, is time to recover from these past several months. Neither of us has been able to fully rest up from the adventures since Annie's birthday. A few days at home should help," he said with a serious tone.
"Rest, yes, but I don't believe home is terribly safe. Although I would like to stop home if only for a moment," she replied.
He nodded, and took her hand in his, "Ready?" he asked and they vanished instantly.
Harry sat in his study; several papers and a leather bound journal lay open on his lap. The early morning dawn light wove through the forest on the edge of the estate. He stared at two separate pages, one in the journal he had read from cover to cover numerous times, and the other from a file folder recently acquired.
He flipped through the pages and randomly read passages. One page fell from the book, an apparent insert designed to remain hidden.
"'The Warning of Power'," Harry recited from the spot where the sheet was hidden.
Harry and Hermione,
Before you become concerned over my well-being, I have enjoyed great health and a fulfilling life here. I have asked my close friend to add this note to his writings, to this journal since I know it will be safe from prying eyes.
Our encounter in Malfoy Manor sent me back in time, approximately eleven hundred years. Remus is dead, as best I can tell. I buried the remains that came with me where his home will be, near the ancient oak on the southeast corner. I planted that tree to mark the spot, and have watched it grow over the years. Hopefully by the time you read this you will be able to ensure his remains are put to rest together.
I encountered a lad that reminded me of you, a young wizard that was in dire need of training. In this age before Hogwarts, the only method of proper training was to become an apprentice to a wizard. He became my apprentice. I shan't mention his name, but he shared my sentiment of blood purity in the wizard world, being of half Muggle birth himself he too was shunned by the wizarding community here. I, however, was immediately accepted, having given the story of being a fully trained wizard from a far away land. My apprentice swore to build a place where any individual with magical abilities could be trained, an idea he conceived on his own.
That was nearly seventy-five years ago. He had since married an acquaintance of the author of this journal and fathered a daughter. A lovely thing she is. Today is their wedding and I have been offered the honor of presenting the newlyweds.
Age has caught me these past few years. I feel fortunate to have experienced the life I was given. Even my time falsely imprisoned has helped form me to the man I became. I cherished our time together when you were a boy and in later years as much as the time I spent with James.
I am certain you are aware of my friends' objectives. The only advice they can offer is to heed the Warning of Power; that appears to be the key to this dilemma.
I have always kept you and Hermione in my thoughts and my heart; I hope Annie has fully recovered from her exposure to Riddle. Care for your children and continue to love them as I know you have.
Your godfather and friend,
Padfoot
Harry closed the book and smiled. "He always was a sly old dog."