Harry Potter and all characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.
The Time Meddlers
Chapter Seven - Catching Scabbers
"I do believe you're a bit better at dueling now than you were when we killed ourselves," commented Hermione. She and Harry were in the Room of Requirement training, and had ten minutes left before they had to leave. He was fighting three dueling dummies at once, whereas she'd only fought one just before his turn came. She knew her muscles would be sore the next morning after the workout they'd had, but realized that she needed to get herself in good shape if they were going to prevent the war with Voldemort.
He grinned as he blasted one of his opponents to bits. "It helps to have proper training facilities." He ducked at that moment, barely avoiding getting hit before using a cutting hex to decapitate the magical mannequin. By this point, he was panting and his brow was filled with sweat.
"I suppose I should be glad you haven't done that to Draco yet."
"It's no more than he deserves! Sectumsempra!" He shot his final opponent in the throat, ending the match. He turned to his girlfriend. He thought she looked cute with her awkward bushy hair and buckteeth. While there were a few attributes that he missed from her older self, he still felt very attracted to her. "So, are we clear in what we're doing about Wormtail?"
"Yes."
"Can we share a good luck kiss?"
"You are incorrigible," she stated with a grin so Harry knew she wasn't really mad. "We already discussed that. What am I going to do with you?"
"Kiss me?" he suggested.
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The happy couple left the training room at the proper time (after going back an hour), showered, and went to breakfast. After an uneventful meal sitting across from Neville, the couple went into the same room they'd used the day before, disillusioned themselves and silenced their shoes.
Holding hands, they made their way to Gryffindor Tower, with Hermione revealing herself and telling the password to the Fat Lady. The door opened and they walked in, ignoring the painting's warnings that she'd be late for class.
They climbed the stairs to the first-year Gryffindor boys' dorm, and Harry, still invisible, opened the door. Hermione had kept in the hall, in case Pettigrew managed to run out of the room. Harry had his special wand in his hand as he looked at the rat, who was currently staring at the door to see who had entered the room. He thought, "Stupefy!" and Scabbers was hit between the eyes with a red beam of light.
"I got him," Harry announced, so that Hermione would know to come in. He took off his watch and resized it to be his trunk. He then re-stupefied the rat, put him in the full body-bind, and incarcerated the traitor before locking him in a secure compartment of his trunk where he could not escape. Then he opened a different compartment and pulled out a few black cloaks, tossing one to Hermione.
As she put it on, pulling the hood over her face, she asked, "Are you ready?"
He nodded while shrinking his trunk back into a watch and putting it on his wrist. He attached his cloak as they walked down the stairs. Together, they snuck through the One-Eyed Witch passage and into Hogsmeade. They didn't bother opening the trapdoor to Honeydukes, opting to apparate straight out of the passage to their destination once they were out of Hogwarts' wards.
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They found themselves in a secluded spot in Diagon Alley, where they were not likely to be noticed. They looked around, and seeing no threats, began to make their way toward Knockturn Alley. Within ten minutes, they were inside the shop called Wendelin's Wands.
The pale, dark-haired woman behind the counter asked with her silky voice, "May I help you?"
"Yes," said Harry, using the same rough-sounding voice he'd done last time as he summoned the wand she'd made. "A few months ago, you made this wand for me."
"Yes, I remember now. Horntail Heartstring and Yew. Surely you haven't had any trouble with it?"
"No. It's worked quite well. So well in fact, that my friend would like one of your wands, too."
"Very good, sir." She turned to Hermione, whose face was obscured by her cloak (just like Harry's). "I'll need you to put your hand over the box of wood and say, mei talea."
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After Hermione had gotten her core substances (Hippogriff feather and holly), they left the shop with the promise to return in about an hour for the completed wand. Once they were out of sight, they cast notice-me-not charms on themselves and apparated directly to the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. It was quite busy that day, and so they blended in with all the magical beings of all sizes as they walked in the line. They easily got past the `wand inspector' by not being noticed and got into the lift.
They rode the lift until they heard, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement." They exited and got into a secluded corner, where Harry removed the rat from his trunk, re-stunning him in the process, and put Wormtail into the pocket of his robe.
After replacing his watch/trunk, he and Hermione walked directly to Kingsley Shacklebolt's cubical. Harry remembered it from his first trip to the Ministry in the previous timeline. At that time, the cubical had been covered in pictures of Sirius Black, but this time it was covered in wanted posters of various wizards and witches Harry was unfamiliar with. Apparently, Kingsley wasn't currently concentrating on a specific case.
"Hello. My name is Auror Shacklebolt. How may I help you?" Kingsley was speaking in a friendly voice, but Harry could see that his hand was near his wand. It appeared that his cubical was warded against notice-me-not charms.
As Harry looked at his past/future acquaintance, he couldn't help but remember reading about how he'd died fighting a horde of Death Eaters, taking out twenty in the process. He blinked back the memory and got back to the business at hand. "Mr. Shacklebolt," he said in his disguised voice. "May we speak to you someplace a bit more private?"
Looking warily at the two figures obscured by dark robes, he answered, "I can put up a few privacy spells here so we're not overheard, but that's it. It's not auror policy to purposely allow ourselves to be outnumbered by people we don't know."
Harry grinned at this. "An old auror I once met would be proud of you. He liked talking about having constant…"
"Vigilance," completed Shacklebolt with a grin. "Mad-Eye Moody." He then pulled out his wand and silently cast a few spells. "Alright. No one can hear us. What's this all about?"
Harry reached in his pocket and pulled out the stupefied rat. "This is an unregistered Animagus. Would you please perform the spell to force him back into human form?" He placed him on the desk.
Looking skeptical, Kingsley replied, "Okay. I'll play along for now." He pointed his wand at the unconscious rodent and performed the transfiguration. The shocked look on his face was priceless as the rat morphed into a short, balding man.
Speaking for the first time during the meeting, Hermione reached into her robe pocket, pulling out a roll of parchment as she said, "This is Peter Pettigrew, a man who was believed to be dead."
"What?" asked Kingsley.
"This letter will explain everything," she continued. "Just make sure he doesn't escape."
Once Shacklebolt took the scroll from her, the young couple turned around and walked out of the building, finally apparating back to Knockturn Alley when they got to the atrium.
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After picking up and paying for Hermione's new wand, along with a holster like Harry's, they returned to Hogwarts through the Honeydukes passage. Using the Time-Turner, they were able to get to class on time with no problems. Harry was informed that his first detention with McGonagall would be that night an hour after dinner. Ron went upstairs to the dorm while Harry and Hermione were sitting in front of the fireplace waiting for it to be time for the Boy-Who-Lived to serve his unjust punishment. They weren't surprised when they heard the childish scream from Harry's dorm.
Every Gryffindor was looking at the boys' staircase as a red-faced (and red-haired) first-year stomped down the stairs. "Scabbers is missing!" he declared angrily.
After that announcement, Harry turned to Hermione and said, "I think it's time I went to McGonagall's office. Hopefully, she'll be calmer now and I can clear this matter up."
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Harry stood outside his Head of House's office, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door, hoping that his gifts would be received.
"Come in. The door's open," her voice called out. She sounded neither angry nor happy. He opened the door. "Good evening, Mr. Potter," she said neutrally. He walked in and looked around.
Professor McGonagall's office was just as Harry remembered it with two exceptions. One was that it didn't contain the Quidditch Cup and the other was the missing photograph.
"Your detention will be cleaning the Transfiguration classroom. The supplies you'll need are already there."
"Yes, professor, but could I speak to you for a minute before I begin?"
Sighing, she nodded, "Very well, Mr. Potter."
"First of all, I'd like to apologize for my part in that picture being destroyed, even though it was a minor, accidental role." When she appeared about to object, he continued, "I know you don't believe me, but someone else took the photo and sabotaged it."
"And you're still asserting that it was Mr. Malfoy?"
"He is my primary suspect, but I admit that I don't have any proof of who did it. I only know that I didn't." He took a deep breath. "That picture seemed important to you, so I did come up with a way for you to replace it." He then pulled a small glass orb out of his book bag. "This is a thought sphere. My book about storing memories talks about them. You could permanently put a memory of those people in it." He pulled out the mentioned tome and lied, "I can't do it myself, but I'm sure that you could follow the book's instructions." He didn't want to make her too suspicious of his abilities by being able to perform such a complicated spell. It was amazing enough that he could operate a Pensieve, but he had to reveal that to accomplish his goals.
She appeared to be touched by the gesture, but maintained her composure. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. That was very thoughtful."
He then pulled a corked vial out of his pocket and held it out to her. "This is my memory of what happened regarding that picture. It's all I know about it." She took the memory, which contained everything from the time Harry and Hermione found the picture until he started cleaning the floor. It included Draco's expressions. "Now, I'll get to work." He left and went to the classroom.
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An hour after leaving Professor McGonagall, Harry was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor of the Transfiguration classroom. His body was used to this from his time with the Dursleys, so he didn't really mind doing it. He just didn't like being punished for something he didn't do. He was busily scrubbing a mud spot on the floor when the door opened.
Before he looked up, he heard his Head of House say, "Harry, I think you've scrubbed enough. Could you come back to my office?"
After putting the cleaning tools away, he followed her and they sat down on opposite sides of her desk. He was going to speak when she interrupted by saying, "I want to thank you, first of all, for your thought sphere." It was than that he noticed it on her desk. She put a hand on it, and the same scene that had been in the destroyed photograph was being played out in 3-D above the orb. He smiled at it.
"I'm glad you like it."
"I do." She took a deep breath. "I don't like to talk about it often, but…I once was married and had a child. This is them…Jeremiah and Elisabeth." She blinked her eyes a few times, as though to hold back tears. "Lizy and her father were killed early on in You-Know-Who's rise to power." Minerva sniffed. "She was only a baby."
"I'm sorry," said Harry, sympathetically.
"We both have lost our families to him, left only with pictures…" She trailed off before sighing. "When I saw that photograph destroyed, I'm afraid I lost my temper…something I try not to do." She sighed again. "You must now think that I'm as bad as Professor Snape."
"Never," he said softly, shaking his head.
"Your punishment is over and I've restored the points I deducted, with my apologies. I wish I could punish Mr. Malfoy, but without any evidence…"
"I understand." He was tempted to add, "I'll take care of it," but figured he'd end up in more trouble.
"There is one other matter we need to take care of," she said, as her lips formed into a small grin.
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Harry, smiling brightly and carrying a long wooden device, arrived back in the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later to find most of his housemates had gone to bed. However, both Hermione and Neville were waiting for him.
"How'd it go?" asked Longbottom.
Still grinning ear to ear, he replied, "Fantastic. McGonagall changed her mind about the second detention and gave me…"
"Is that…" said Hermione in surprise, "a Nimbus 2000?"
"Yes," he declared happily, showing off his original broom. Both friends eyed it appreciatively, although Harry knew his girlfriend was doing it more to show her support than being excited about a broom. She might also be wondering if it was the exact one he'd gotten last time around. As superior as his Firebolt was, his first broom would always hold a special place in his heart. "Now, I know I can win the first Quidditch match."
"I hope so," said Neville happily. "Good night." He got up and walked away.
"Just remember," whispered Hermione with a smirk. "When you play that game, try catching the Snitch with your hand and not your mouth."
"Ha-ha very funny," he hissed back. "You know perfectly well that it was because of Quirrel…"
"If you say so," she said before winking at him. "Good night."
Before he could respond, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked up the stairs.
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That Saturday (after Quidditch practice) Harry and Hermione were walking around the corridors of Hogwarts, on a particular mission. They were looking for the Ravenclaw house ghost - most commonly known as the Gray Lady. It wasn't long until they did see a ghostly figure drift by them, but the pearly white figure they spotted wasn't the one they wanted. However, Hermione thought he might be of help.
"Excuse me, sir," she said timidly. "Aren't you the Hufflepuff ghost?"
"Why, yes I am, dear child," he said delightfully. "Most people call me the Fat Friar."
"It's good to meet you. I'm Harry…"
"Mr. Potter, everyone at Hogwarts, even the ghosts, knows who you are."
"I'm Hermione Granger," said the Boy-Who-Lived's companion quickly, to cover up his unease at being reminded of his fame.
"It is good to meet you both. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Actually," said Hermione. "There is. You see, we're trying to meet all the house ghosts, rather than just our own."
"A rather splendid idea," he said with a grin. "Perhaps we can help bring about school unity. Hopefully the Baron will be agreeable. I do hope that Sir Nicolas doesn't mind," he added, eying their robes.
"Oh," said Harry. "He doesn't mind." He took a deep breath. "Do you happen to know where the Ravenclaw ghost is?"
"Why, yes," he replied. "I just left the Gray Lady a few minutes ago. She was around that corner and down the hall a bit." He pointed in the proper direction.
"Thank you," both Harry and Hermione said at once as they took off.
"You're welcome," the Fat Friar joyfully shouted toward their backs. He muttered, "Kids today…always in a hurry. Oh well. At least they're on a noble task of friendship."
"Hello…Gray Lady," shouted Harry as he spotted the lovely ghost floating away from him. She consented to stop and turn around.
"Hello," she nodded. Harry thought she looked haughty and proud, but didn't say so.
"You're the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower?"
"That is correct." Her tone was not encouraging.
Hermione asked, "Do you know anything about the lost diadem?"
A cold smile curved her lips. "I am afraid," she said, turning to leave, "that I cannot help you."
"Did Tom Riddle ever ask you about it?" asked Harry. The ghost stopped again.
"He did, didn't he?" asked Hermione. "And you told him, didn't you?" she added softly.
"I had…no idea," she stammered apologetically.
"You weren't the first person Voldemort wormed things out of," said Harry sympathetically, "nor the last." Realizing that he didn't need the whole story, just specific information, he asked, "Do you know where there's a picture of it?"
"No book we've looked at has one," Hermione added.
"No portrait of it was ever painted, and the photographs you take today didn't exist then," she said, sounding unusually sentimental.
Harry looked down, sighing disappointedly. "I'm sorry to have bothered you." He turned.
"Wait," said the Gray Lady. "While what I said is true, a sculpture of my mother was made while she was wearing the diadem."
Harry turned, looking perplexed. "Your mother?"
"Yes," she nodded. "When I lived, I was Helena Ravenclaw."
"Where…" began Hermione before being interrupted.
"It is in Ravenclaw Tower's common room."
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Please review. Thank you to those who have.
I believe that the urgency of the situation in Deathly Hallows prompted the Gray Lady to say much more about the tiara than she did in this chapter.
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