Portkey A/N: As has been alluded to in some of the reviews, this story was originally posted on fanfiction.net. Thus the reason for the frequent updates has been solely based on me importing my chapters into portkey (I'm up to 20 chapters, by the by). Feel free to read ahead if you so choose.
I have left most of the author's notes in the fic untouched from ff.net, so you might see some of my thought processes as they've evolved. There are certain things that I've alluded to there, but nothing really important at the moment. Still, they're good for posterity's sake.
Once I have caught up on importing this to portkey, expect less frequent updates. I'll try and get a chapter out every eight or nine days, but I make no promises.
A/N: It is my belief that the majority of the wizarding public are mindless sheep who will believe whatever they are force fed. Dumbledore is respected by most (key term there) and given the innate prejudice against muggleborns already in place, they will believe Hermione is a Death Eater if they're told it enough times, especially if Dumbledore is the one telling them. As for the central core of characters, I can say (and most of you would guess) that they would not believe Dumbledore, or at least not take his word for it without serious consideration.
It may seem out of character for my Dumbledore, who has acted very subversively in his meddling and evil shenanigans, but as I said before this was a desperate act by a desperate man. And it will make sense before the end of this trilogy, I assure you of that.
As to Harry being lazy, that's merely leftover from canon Harry, though this chapter will probably erase that from the trait list of one Harry Potter.
In reference to the training, my plan is to simply continue what I've been doing, that is to say focus on the other various storylines that are coercing within this fic. I'll simply focus more on their character arcs and occasionally check back in with Harry and Hermione for various plot elements and training episodes. I expect the whole training regiment then to last two or three chapters, with everything else filling out the required exposition. Anything left out that I feel to be important later can be referenced via flashback. When we get through on the other side, it'll be straight into our first action scene and the first major canon character death (although there may be another one before we get there, I'm undecided).
Chapter 14: Tomorrow's a Long Way Off
Harry awoke the next morning with a frown on his face. The nightmares of Sirius had returned that night, a sign that even he hadn't moved past anything at all. Still, they had been worse before this had started all things considered. Struggling with his sheet he eventually flicked it off and grabbed his glasses. He both smiled and frowned at the notion that for the first time in a few days, Hermione Granger was not sharing his bed. He hoped this was a sign that things were starting to get better, but he internally frowned to the fact that he was starting to get used to sharing his bed with her. It came quite naturally, almost too naturally.
Sighing, he stood out of bed and grabbed a quick shower. Once he was satisfied with his state of appearance, he made his way downstairs to the dining area. There he slightly frowned when he saw Hermione sitting at the table, idly chewing on a piece of bacon and stroking Thoth's head while at the same time reading through another book. She looked up at him and smiled, though there was a tiny hint of a look like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Harry simply shrugged it off.
"Morning Hermione," he said with a smile. "How long have you been up?"
"Only about an hour or so," she said with a returning smile. She marked her place in the book and set it aside. She glanced at Harry with a cockeyed smirk on her face, and Harry could almost instantly tell that it was the look she gave him whenever she had just figured something of immense importance out. Before Harry could ask what it was, she cut him off. "Isn't it about time you show me what that animagus form of yours is?"
Harry blushed slightly and nodded his head. Truth be told he had nearly forgotten about it in the course of events. He himself didn't even know what his form was. Though there was no time like the present to find out. Closing his eyes he scanned his memory for the required knowledge. As time had passed he was finding that accessing his vault of stored knowledge was getting easier and easier, at least of the concepts that he had a fundamental understanding of before the inheritance. Once he was certain he had a firm grasp on the skill, he willed it to happen, and instantly felt a change come over him.
When he opened his eyes he instantly noticed that he was significantly smaller than he had been, though he felt that he was still standing on two legs. His posture was slightly cocked forward, and he tried to stretch out his hands. A flood of sensations came into his brain, not the least of which was a sense of direction that he was not used to having.
Stretching out his arm, he found that he no longer hands at all. Turning his head slightly, his human mind was shocked to find a wing where his arm once was. A slight turn to the left found the same thing. Instinct seemed to take over and Harry flapped both of his wings toward the ground, earning a slight upward lift. A few more trial and error sessions and he found himself flying up to the kitchen table, where he regarded Hermione with what he could best describe as an awestruck look. Forcing himself back into human form, Harry felt his normal mind completely reassert itself. He took a couple deep breaths as he sat, knelt down on the table. Looking up at Hermione, he asked "What's my form look like?"
"Oh Harry," she managed to whisper out, her hands covering her dumbstruck mouth. "You're a beautiful raven. Black as night but with the most brilliant green eyes I think I've ever seen on a bird." Harry gave a smirk and moved himself off of his table. Sitting down next to Hermione, he was surprised when a plate of food almost immediately appeared in front of him.
"I see Dobby and Winky have been keeping busy," he said with a smile as he lifted his fork and took a bite of scrambled eggs. "You know we haven't explored the basement level yet. Maybe we can do that today," he idly wondered. There was a brief moment before Harry looked up at Hermione, who was still staring at him with wonder in her eyes. "'Mione?" he ventured to ask, a little bit of worry in his voice.
"That was brilliant," she finally managed to say. Her senses seemed to come back to her and she shook her head slightly. "You're going to have to teach me that for sure when we do our training."
Harry frowned. "I hope you've found something that I haven't. I'm still stumped on how to make the runes work to keep the time turner anchored in enchantments without the power fading from it." Hermione smiled and pulled her book back in front of Harry.
"I have it all figured out," she said with a tinge of pride in her voice. "Instead of going back in time and muddling about with all of the rules about paradoxes and stuff, we'll simply make more time the old-fashioned way." She made a motion to the various equations on the page she was holding. "We'll simply slow time down instead."
/ - / - / - /
Nymphadora Tonks was certain of one thing, she had a headache.
No scratch that, she had a migraine.
Come to think of it, migraine might be an understatement.
She had rolled out of bed this morning, still confused about the whole situation with Remus, confused about her role in life, her duties as an auror and as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. All things considered, it was enough to give her a headache in its own right.
Being instructed to find and bring to justice Hermione Granger....that was something that was migraine inducing.
Tonks had only met the witch a few times, but found her to be a rather cheery person to be around all things considered. She was awestruck by how much Hermione knew about their world and the drive to learn as much more as she could. She was also impressed with her depth of character and her sheer amount of courage, even if she didn't recognize it in herself. The girl was the true definition of a Gryffindor.
So for Albus Dumbledore, a man she thought she respected and thought had many if not all the answers to accuse, no, just flat out and say that Hermione Granger was a Death Eater made absolutely no sense.
Shaking her head as she made her way to the kitchen of her mother's home in Stratford, she grabbed the pot of coffee off the broiler and poured herself a cup. If there was one muggle custom she had taken to greatly, it was a morning cup of coffee. Sighing almost contently as she smelled the fresh brew, she took a sip and headed for the kitchen table. She sat there for a moment, alone with her thoughts, trying to muddle out any kind of conclusion that she could. She didn't notice the blonde haired woman coming down the stairs. She walked through the entryway and made her way to the dining room, taking time to smile at Tonks.
"Good morning dear," she said with a mildly chipper voice. Tonks didn't look up at her mother, simply pretending to read the copy of the Daily Prophet on the table.
"Morning mum," she said offhandedly, trying to dismiss her mother in an indirect manner. If nothing else she didn't want to discuss things with her mother. It was too awkward and would probably muck things up even worse. However Andromeda Tonks was rather intuitive, especially when it came to her own daughter. Cocking an eyebrow, she sat down next to Tonks and folded her hands on the table.
"What's wrong 'Dora?" Tonks sighed and dropped the paper, looking at her mother, who had a calm mask of serenity etched over her face, though concern was readily apparent if you knew where to look.
"Nothing," Tonks replied, shrugging it off. "Just some stuff at work."
"Oh," Andromeda looked downward a bit, fiddling with her hands, though it wasn't long before she had her eyes back up and staring at her daughter. Tonks tried to ignore it, turning back to her coffee and paper, but the nagging stare from her mother irked her in all the right places.
"I'm just so confused," she finally admitted, throwing down the paper in frustration. She hung her head partially in anguish and partially in shame, trying her best to control her emotions. Her mother was silent, but simply slid over and wrapped her arm around her daughter in a show of support. After several moments of silence, she broke away and stared at her daughter.
"I understand your work keeps you from giving me specific details," she paused, letting Nymphadora's gaze turn upwards toward her, a few tears shining in her eyes, "But I'm here to help you anyway I can 'Dora. So....why don't you tell me what it is that's bothering you, as best you can."
'What isn't bothering me,' Tonks thought to herself as she began to tell her mother the story of Remus Lupin, deciding that her mother's lack of knowledge about the Order limited the amount of information that Tonks could give. When she had finished, she looked at her mother with bloodshot eyes. "I just don't know what to do," she confessed. "I don't know if Remus has feelings for me, or if he does how deep they run. I don't know how I can reconcile everything at work with....whatever this is." She finished her tale and sat there, nearly in tears. Her mother merely regarded her with a comforting, yet stoic expression on her face. Finally, after several moments, she leaned forward and lifted her daughter's chin, drawing her attention.
"These matters are never easy dear," she began, pulling her hand away and leaning back in the chair slightly. "When I began dating your father my family tried to do everything to stop me, from love potions to threats of physical harm. They stopped short of the imperious curse, but I wouldn't have put it past them." She took a long pause and then firmly kept on. "But in the end I married your father and everything worked itself out. Do I miss the comradery that I had with my sisters? Yes, there's not a day goes by that I don't wish that we could have what we used to." She grasped her daughter's hand again. "But what I gained is so much more than that, that I wouldn't think of trading it.
"I don't know if this man loves you, or if he even has feelings for you. Only he can answer that question. But I do know this. When it comes to matters of the heart, only the heart can help you decide." Her daughter smiled at her as best she could, and the two women embraced.
"Thanks mum," Tonks said in a whispered tone, before standing up and heading out of the room. She had a lot to do that day if she was going to set things right. All of a sudden, her headache didn't appear to be that bad anymore.
/ - / - / - /
Ginny Weasley coughed as the dust began to settle in the Weasley family attic. The ghoul that normally tormented them had been banished for the time being, courtesy of a rather violent outburst from her older brother Ron.
Ginny stood back and watched Ron as he methodically searched through several boxes of stored items in the attic, organizing it as best he could and plowing through the task without the usual reckless abandon that he would. She knew that something had been amiss with her brother for quite sometime now, particularly since the disappearance of Harry and Hermione. He was overly quiet and prone to violent mood swings whenever someone tried to broach the subject with him. The only one he didn't really explode against was Ginny, and after seeing what was left of their brother Charlie after he had tried to get him to open up, she was thankful for that.
Still it worried Ginny. He could be an insensitive prat at times, but he was still her brother. She knew he needed some kind of outlet for his anger, aside from blowing up the nearest garden gnome that happened to wander by. Edging closer to her brother, she cleared her throat and tried to talk to him.
"Ron...is something bothering you?" She immediately chided herself for the direct approach. She saw her brother stop, and turn slowly back to her, his anger flaring up again as he spoke.
"No Gin, absolutely nothing is wrong with me," he responded in a sarcastic tone. "My best mate and another close friend have gone missing and might be dead for all I know and no one will tell me a damn thing about either one of them." Ginny noticed a small tinge at the corner of his mouth, something that was off setting to her and her alone, but she allowed him to continue. "So, no Gin, I'm bloody well perfect!" He scoffed at her again and went back to his cleaning.
"Hey, this isn't my fault Ronald, so don't go chewing me out and acting like an insufferable prat!" Ron stopped but didn't turn to look at her. "You don't think I'm not worried about them to? Yeah, I'll admit, I'm probably not as close to them as you are, particularly Harry. But they're my friends too." Ron turned back, the fierce look on his face somewhat tempered by the tears leaking out of Ginny's eyes. Several tense moments passed before Ron approached Ginny, and offered her what support he could. They hugged each other for what seemed to be several minutes. When Ron heard her muffled sobs slow he broke away, a lopsided smile on his face.
"Feel better then?" Ginny laughed and smiled through still falling tears. "Sorry I tore into ya Gin, but it's just so frustrating. They're just keeping us in the dark on everything ya know?" Ginny nodded feeling the same frustrations. "But I'm sure they're alright. Hermione being the brightest witch of her age and all...and Harry wouldn't go down without a fight." Ginny raised an eyebrow, since when had Ron become an optimist? Something irked at her mind. The look that he had given her, that momentary lapse in his facade of anger hinted at something. It was the same kind of tick that practically every Weasley male gave off, subtle yet incredibly damning if you could recognize it. If you knew what to look for, it was virtually impossible for any of them to lie you.
"What're you hiding Ron," she flat out stated, her hands coming up to her hips in a very Molly-esque fashion. For a split second, guilt flashed across Ron's face, followed by a look of confusion mixed with innocence.
"I'm not hiding anything Ginny." He started to lash out again with defensive anger, trying to shift the subject away from him.
"No, you are," Ginny replied flatly, her tone stopping Ron's misdirection dead in its tracks. She quickly went through her mind about what it might be he was hiding. The little look had come after he had said that no one would tell him anything. Did that mean that....her eyes went wide at the realization."You've heard from them....haven't you!?" Her mouth went wide as Ron was caught off guard, and quickly looking for a way to deflect the conversation again. At that moment, Ginny was certain she had him.
Ron apparently realized it to, as he hung his head in defeat for a brief moment, before walking over to the door and shutting it quickly. He locked it from the inside, so as not to be disturbed. He glanced around the walls, seemingly paranoid about being heard, and then proceeded to pull up a chair. "Might want to sit down Gin," he said with a sigh, "This could take a while." Ginny nodded and pulled up another of the older chairs that were stored in the Weasley attic. Once she was situated, Ron began, outlining everything he had to say in his mind, and taking things one step at a time, virtually like a chess match.
"A few days ago I got a letter from Harry. He said he was fine and that he had Hermione with him. Aside from her parents being dead, she was alright too." Ginny sniffed but motioned for Ron to continue. "He also said that Dumbledore has been using him for years. Put all these curses and hexes on him and stuff." Ginny's eyes went wide.
"But....why....how....that can't be right! Are you sure it was Harry that wrote that letter Ron?" Ginny's mind was working a thousand miles a minute. Why in the world would Dumbledore put any kind of curse on Harry.
"Yes, I'm sure. The letter was delivered by Hedwig and I recognized Harry's handwriting." He paused a moment before adding, "And I don't think he'd be under the imperious either. I don't think anyone could use that curse on him." There were several uneasy seconds of silence that followed.
"What sort of curses? Did he say what they were?" Ginny was now rattling off questions like bullets from a gun. Ron sat back, bewildered by it for a second, before taking the first question.
Nodding his head, he answered, "Some kind of spell made Harry's aunt and uncle go mental at the sight or mention of him he said. Another was some kind of memory charm about a time when Harry was rescued from the Dursley's. He also mentioned something of a power block, said it was keeping him from using his magical potential, whatever that means."
"It means he wasn't nearly as powerful as he should've been." Ginny got a far away look in her eyes. "Merlin....he's done all the things he's done with those kind of curses on him?!" Ron simply nodded.
"It gets worse," he said flatly, anger seeping into his voice. "Much worse." He was about to continue when the voice of their mother called down from the kitchen. Working frantically, Ron turned to Ginny, "Not a word of this to anyone Gin. Promise?"
"But....Mum can help him if..."
"Harry's fine Gin! So's Hermione! You can't tell anyone about this, not even Mum, and especially not Dumbledore!" Ginny looked a bit taken aback, before she nodded her head.
"Fine, if you say so. But If I find out that they've been hurt..."
"You can Bat Bogey me to Timbuktu if they get hurt Gin. Merlin knows I'd deserve it." The two siblings stood up and exited the attic. Making their way downstairs, Ron stopped a few landings short of the bottom floor when he saw who happened to be sitting in the Weasley kitchen.
"Ah, Mr. and Ms. Weasley," came a cheerful yet somber voice of Albus Dumbledore, "Just the two people I wanted to talk to."
/ - / - / - /
It took several hours, but with the house elves help Harry had drawn the right runes on the cornerstones of Potter Manor. Essentially the spell would work to slow time to make one day outside the equivalent of 18 months inside within a given range. They had chosen the house proper for the range, simply based on energy requirements. The downside of course was that they couldn't leave the premises until the spell wore off. Seeing as how they wouldn't need to leave for anything really, due to the house elves, it wasn't a huge sacrifice to make.
Once the runes were in place, Hermione set about energizing various focusing crystals placed over the runes, drawing on her arithmantic calculations to get the temporal fields aligned in the proper motion once the incantation was recited. When she was certain she had it right, after triple checking her calculations of course, she joined Harry in the center of the house.
"Remember," she said as she shut the door to the small circular room, "We need to read the incantation at the same time. We have to combine our magical energies to be able to get the spell right, and we'll probably both be tired for a few minutes afterwards, but if it works...."
"Then we can start on our way to ending this," Harry said firmly, with resolve in his voice. "We can get rid of Voldemort once and for all and then get on with our lives." Hermione smiled at him, and the two of them interlaced their fingers. Gripping their wands, Hermione nodded to Harry. "On three," he said in response. "One...two....three!"
"Tardus Tempus Duodeviginti Mensis!" There was a slight delay as they held both their wands aloft while chanting the words. Then quickly a bright yellow light shot out of both of them and encompassed the entire room. It shone brightly as it expanded to encompass beyond the room, expanding to the whole of the house. Just as quickly as it had grown, it shot backwards, collapsing back into both of them. They collapsed onto the floor, both partially exhausted from the expenditure of energy. After several minutes, Harry looked up, out of breath, a bit of a grin on his face.
"Did it work?" he asked. Hermione pushed herself up to a sitting position, also out of breath.
"I don't know," she responded, "There's only one way to find out." After catching their breath, they got to their feet and rushed as fast as they could to the entryway of the house. Hermione hesitantly approached the door and opened it. She took a few steps outside, and smiled as her progress was blocked by a field of energy. She turned back to Harry. "It worked." Harry smiled back.
"I hope you don't mind being cooped up here for 18 months with only me for company." Hermione very nearly giggled and walked over to Harry, planting a small peck on his forehead.
"I think I'll manage. Now, I'll have a study schedule for us by tomorrow, err....what should be tomorrow....when we wake up." Harry laughed at the confusion and motioned for her to follow him.
"Sounds great 'Mione. Now I know I promised you a tour of the basement level." Hermione nodded and they headed downstairs.
The basement was designed much like the top floor was, with brick floors and walls instead of the decorated hardwoods and marble stone. They walked down a small hallway which had several doors leading off into different directions. Choosing the first door on the left, Harry opened it, and was stunned by what he saw.
Standing before them was a long hallway lit by torchlight. All along the wall various portraits stood positioned. Harry and Hermione both silently down the dead-end hallway, coming to a stop near the far wall. All of the portraits seemed to be asleep, and according to the names, they appeared to be the former heads of the House of Potter.
"Harry, this is...." Hermione trailed off when she noticed Harry was glancing at the portrait at the farthest end of the wall, tears shimmering in his green eyes as he regarded it. "Harry....what is it."
Harry never turned to her. Almost completely ignoring her, he muttered aloud in disbelief "Mum...Dad?"
A/N: Ah-Ha! The triple cliffy. Rest assured we'll find out more about these plotlines as time goes on.
I want to respond to some constructive criticism I received from a reviewer, constructive criticism I greatly appreciate by the way. My writing is truthfully marred by some colloquialisms that may seem out of place to anyone who really doesn't know me, and sadly that is the downfall of my writing style. I speak in these same mannerisms, and I have some strange uses for these sayings that would appear to be abnormal to some but make sense to me. The typos and such are simply from lack of time and improper care, in combination with trying to get the chapter out ASAP once it's completed. I tried a beta reader once long ago, but didn't have the patience for it. That said, I will try (maybe starting next chapter ; P ) to get better with the proof reading.
As for this story being heavy on cliches, that was the warning at the beginning. In my defense I avoided the cliche "evil prat Ron" that these stories tend to have, and I have to date only found one story that has Draco as a half-blood. Seeing as this is a trilogy as well, I feel there will be some more original ideas as we progress further along. Please bear with me on this. I understand the cliches are there, but to be honest I find them as a small sacrifice to a greater goal. There are elements of this story that haven't even been hinted at (sort of actually, but not in a direct manner) and will help move it along with time.
Thank you for the constructive criticism though, it helps me try and improve on my writing in the future.
We'll pick up with the Potters in the next chapter, as well as Ron and maybe some Crumple Horned Snorcacks (Or Black Haired Nose Weebles, whichever I prefer).