It was less than two weeks until Christmas, which meant a lot of things. However not all of them were good, at least in Harry’s opinion, as he was walking through Hogsmeade with his dark winter cloak pulled tightly around his body. It was the last Hogsmeade Weekend before Christmas, so it was only natural that the main street was packed with students, all of them doing their last minute purchases for the holiday.
Fortunately he was almost finished with his shopping and he breathed a sigh of relief when the bookshop came into view, where he had ordered a book for Hermione, which he only needed to pick up. Emerging only a few minutes later with the book safely stored in his bag along with the other gifts he had bought, Harry took a look around. It was amazing that there was no sign of the attack of Halloween left.
Everything was rebuilt or replaced “ thanks to magic it almost was as if the attack had never happened “ and the students and inhabitants of the village appeared to be walking through the streets as if there was not a war waging in the Wizarding World. But when he looked closer, he could see that, although they were strolling from shop to shop, their bodies appeared to be a bit tense and that the students could always be found in small groups.
Even Harry caught himself a couple of times, when he looked over his shoulder or tensed up, whenever he thought that he had heard or seen something suspect. Even though everything appeared to be normal in Hogsmeade, the attack was still fresh on everyone’s mind, seeing as it had only happened a few weeks ago. Harry was even surprised that Dumbledore still allowed those Hogsmeade Weekends, as they would pose the ideal target of Voldemort and his Death Eaters -- a village filled with underage wizards and witches, unable to defend themselves against them. This would be a hard blow to the Wizarding World, finding out that not even at school their children were safe.
All in all he was glad, when he could leave the village finally behind and was back in the castle, but he had promised Ron that they would meet for a quick lunch at the Three Broomsticks and then head back to Hogwarts. The two of them had walked down to Hogsmeade after breakfast together but then parted ways to purchase their Christmas presents. They had asked Hermione and Draco, if they wanted to come along, but both of them had already different plans. After Harry’s discovery a few days ago, he didn’t even want to think about what kind of plans the two of them already had.
A quick look at his watch told Harry that he had twenty minutes to spare until he should meet with Ron, but since he didn’t know where else he could go, he decided that he might as well go to the Three Broomsticks and save them a table. Navigating through the students, careful not to jostle too many of them, which was nearly impossible in this crowd, he made his way towards the pub. Once inside he had hoped to escape the crowds outside, but the place was packed. A few of the students greeted him, as he was walking to a table in the back and dropped his purchases on the ground next to him, before he shrugged off his cloak and sat down. It was warm inside, so Harry rolled up the sleeves of his black turtleneck.
Madam Rosmerta, in this time still a woman of about thirty years and even more beautiful than in his time, came to him shortly after, but Harry simply ordered a butterbeer and told her that he was still waiting for someone. He didn’t need to wait long, as Ron stepped into the Three Broomstick only a few minutes later and looked around. Harry waved at him to get his attention and when the redhead saw him, he smiled and weaved his way through the crowd. After his own cloak was hanging over his chair, Ron sat down as well.
“I hate Christmas,” Ron grumbled, as he waved Madam Rosmerta over to them. He also ordered a butterbeer and now that Ron was here, they ordered some lunch.
“You don’t hate Christmas,” Harry corrected him once the young Madam Rosmerta was gone. “You hate Christmas shopping.”
Ron sent his friend a mock glare. “No, I hate Christmas. You seem to forget that little incident two days ago.”
Harry almost choked on his butterbeer and had to wipe a few droplets away that had escaped his mouth with the back of his hand. The little incident two days ago had involved some mistletoe and a seventh year student.
Ron had told them afterwards that he had walked down one of the school corridors, when the girl had accidentally on purpose run into him right underneath some mistletoe. The flying instructor had tried to walk past her, after having apologized quickly though he hadn’t been at fault, the whole time trying to ignore the mistletoe hanging above them, until the girl had had the nerve to point it out. Now, what was a professor to do in a situation like this, especially when the girl was only a few years younger than him? To get this problem out of the way, Ron had quickly leaned down and placed a peck on her cheek, before walking away, hoping that his face wasn’t as red as his hair.
Hermione had looked scandalized after Ron had told them this, muttering things like taking advantage of a young and innocent student, until Ron had pointed out, who had exactly taken advantage of whom, which had shut Hermione effectively up. However, by the next day the news that Professor Weasley had kissed one of his students under some mistletoe had travelled all around school and Ron had started to avoid mistletoes like the plague.
“I swear, I can still hear her giggle,” Ron complained and shoved a large piece of steak into his mouth.
Shrugging, Harry shoved some peas onto his fork with a teasing grin on his face. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet this girl again, when we go back, and then it’s love at first sight.”
Ron’s head jerked up from his plate. “This is no laughing matter, Potter. Do you have any idea how old she’ll be? Really old!”
“Whatever,” his friend replied. “She’ll graduate next term, won’t she? After that, you can start something with her.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” the redhead sputtered. Looking around to make sure that no one was listening to them, he said, “As if I’d ever start something with someone from here. I’m not Hermione and she’s usually the responsible one. Really, how she could just jump into a relationship with some bloke from here, when we don’t even know when we go back, is beyond me…”
Harry sighed, as Ron launched into yet another tirade about Hermione and her secret admire, again. By now, he knew all of his friend’s arguments by heart. Hermione would need to lie to him all the time. Hermione would be heartbroken, once they returned to their time. And so on… It was trying to listen to all of this again, so Harry mostly tuned Ron out, hoping that he nodded at exactly the right times, while being engaged in his own thoughts.
He hadn’t confronted Hermione about what he had witnessed, yet. But it was about time that he did. It couldn’t go on like this. She needed to come clean with them, no matter how scared she was of their reactions to her secret. At least she didn’t need to worry about him anymore. After the initial shock at finding out that she and Draco were an item had subsided, he had decided that his first attitude -- as long as Hermione was happy, he was happy for her -- still counted. It had come as a huge surprise at first, of course, especially considering the history the two of them had, but they all had changed over the years, Draco most of all. He was no longer the spoiled little brat he had been at Hogwarts -- he had grown up to bear responsibilities for his actions, he was fighting for the Order against Voldemort and even though he and Harry got into as many spats during their missions as an old married couple, they still managed to work together and had developed something between them that resembled friendship. It was a bit strange, but it worked.
He really needed to talk to Hermione as soon as possible, Harry decided, as he continued to eat his lunch, while absently waiting for Ron to finish his tirade. He only hoped that, once Hermione got around to tell the truth, Ron wouldn’t fly off the handle -- much. And then, Harry still needed to give Draco the big brother speech.
“Still,” Harry simply said with a smirk, as Ron was finally finished with his rant, “you love the presents too much to hate Christmas.”
Hogwarts was still mostly deserted, when Harry and Ron returned from the village and went up to their rooms. Harry had to suppress a snicker, when he noticed that even though there was no single student to be seen in the hallways, Ron made a point of navigating around every mistletoe they encountered. It seemed to him, as if his red-haired friend knew the exact position of each and every one of them.
Suddenly feeling a bit mischievous, Harry flicked his wrist and some mistletoe they had just left behind began to follow Ron, which the redhead however didn’t notice at once. First when they were standing in front of the portrait to their common room, Ron noticed the impish smirk on Harry’s face.
“What are you smirking at?” he asked curiously. He watched his friend closely and when the green eyes wandered up to something above his head, he followed the gaze and jumped back startled, when he finally spotted the mistletoe. “Bloody hell! Why didn’t you warn me that there’s one of those bloody things?”
“Sorry,” Harry tried so say seriously, but failed miserably, when the mistletoe changed positions and was once again floating right over his friend’s head.
With a surprised yell, Ron jumped yet another step backwards, but again the mistletoe followed him. He tried a step to the left and a step to the right, but no matter what he did, the offending twig stayed close to him. His head whipped around to Harry, who was holding his stomach in silent laughter. “It was you! You did this!” Footsteps echoed through the hall and Ron gave his friend a pleading look, already fearing the worst. “Please, undo it!”
But it was already too late, as Draco Malfoy rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks to take a good look at the spectacle in front of him. Harry almost saw the wheels turning in Draco’s head, as the blond assessed the situation. They locked eyes and immediately the familiar sneer spread over his face. “Nice twig you got there, Weasley. Is it permanent?”
“Permanent?” Ron nearly squeaked and looked at Harry for help with wide-eyes, as most-likely all possible horror scenarios flashed through his mind, involving the mistletoe, him and a few seventh years girls.
Harry, however, chose to ignore his friend for the time being. Just let him suffer a bit longer… “Hey Draco, do you have any idea, where ‘Mione is?” With his newfound knowledge, which he didn’t want to reveal yet to either of the two young men, he thought that if someone knew where Hermione was, it was Draco Malfoy.
Shrugging, Draco crossed the distance between them, also ignoring Ron. “Last time I’ve seen her was shortly after breakfast. She was on her way to the library then.”
After having muttered something like ‘I should’ve known’ under his breath, Harry flashed Draco a grin of thanks and held out his shopping bag, seeing as Ron was still too busy trying to get somehow rid of his offender. “Do you mind bringing this into my room? I have to talk to ‘Mione and it can’t wait any longer.”
With a raised eyebrow, Draco looked from Harry to the bag and back to Harry, before he eventually nodded and took the bag out of his hand. “But you owe me, Potter.”
“Of course,” Harry agreed and quickly swept past him, wondering how long it might take Ron to figure out that a simple Finite Incantatem would stop the mistletoe from following him around anymore.
When Harry reached the library not even ten minutes later, he nodded his greeting to Madam Pince and walked straight to the back, where he usually found Hermione, when she was working on something. Students seldom studied that far in the back, so she had all the peace she needed for her research.
But Hermione wasn’t alone this time, as he found out, when he took a sharp turn around a shelf to the table she usually occupied -- his mother was sitting there as well and they were obviously discussing something. Not wanting to feel as if he were eavesdropping, Harry immediately cleared his throat to get their attention. It worked perfectly well, as both of their heads jerked around to him. “Hey Hermione, Lily,” he greeted them, not wanting to risk calling his mother ‘mum’, since he didn’t know if there were maybe some other studious pupils around.
“Harry,” both of them said simultaneously, as he had obviously surprised them. The two young women exchanged a quick worried glance and Harry immediately got curious.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing at Hogwarts?” he asked his mother.
Lily looked once again at Hermione, who eventually nodded after a few seconds, before she sighed and admitted, “Research… We’ve been doing some research.” Harry raised an eyebrow at them, as if asking ‘Really? I wouldn’t have noticed with all the books lying around.’, and gazed pointedly at the table, which was buried underneath many big tomes. Lily breathed a deep sigh, “About Proferre Tempus.”
This immediately got Harry’s full attention and his head jerked up to meet both gazes. “We didn’t mean to tell you, at least not yet,” Hermione told him, lowering her eyes in shame at being caught, but this only made Harry angrier. He had always thought his friend knew how much he hated being kept in the dark, especially when it was this important. “Harry,” she pleaded, “please, don’t be angry… I knew you wouldn’t like not knowing, but…”
“But I convinced her to keep this from you, from all of you,” Lily suddenly spoke up to defend Hermione. “Not even James knows… We only told Albus a few days ago, because…”
She hesitated a moment and Harry noticed that his anger slowly subsided. With a sigh, he unclenched his fists and sat down in an empty chair, running a hand through his hair. He was being a hypocrite --how could he expect his friends, especially his mother, to tell him everything, when he was keeping so many things from them. “I’m sorry… Go on… You told Albus, because…”
Hermione and Lily exchanged another glance, as if silently communicating with each other, after which the brunette explained, “Because we believe we found someone who has used this spell and returned to his own time afterwards.”
Harry gaped at them. If this was really true then it was truly possible for them to return as well. Now and then during the last few weeks, he had almost started to give up hope. They were already in this time for more than four months and so far Dumbledore hadn’t had any news concerning any possibilities to send them home. But now, it was simply too good to be true. He couldn’t wait to get back, but at the same time, a small part of him wanted to stay, which was quite understandable, Harry thought. Here in this time he had his parents and Sirius, after all, though the latter still didn’t trust him. “I sense a but coming…” he finally said, when he saw the somewhat subdued looks on their faces.
Hermione simply nodded at him. “But we don’t know if this someone, a man by the name of Norton Lewthwaite, is still alive or if what he has written in this book is even true. He might just be a simple con man.”
“But you don’t believe this.”
“Oh Harry,” Hermione cried out and closed the book in front of her with a loud snap. “I don’t know. But imagine, if this is really true, then”“
“We can go home,” Harry interrupted her, but Hermione only shook her head, which confused him a bit.
However, it was Lily who continued the explanation this time. “Not just that… One of the reasons why I wanted to research this spell was to find out, if your appearance in this time changes anything in your time. According to this man, it doesn’t. He supports Albus’ first theory of the different timelines. Do you understand? If this Norton Lewthwaite really exists and if what he has written in this book,” she raised a thick tome with red and silver bindings but without a title, “is true, you can tell us everything without worrying about how it will effect your time!”
Harry’s heart swelled up with hope, hope that he had almost forgotten. It really was too good to be true. Telling his parents everything without having to worry, warning them about Voldemort’s attack, informing them about the traitor in their midst and finally telling them so many other things.
“Albus is trying now to track him down, while we are looking for more information about Mr. Lewthwaite,” Lily told him calmly. “The problem is that he is relatively unknown in the Wizarding World. As a muggleborn he went to Hogwarts about a hundred years ago. Albus remembered him vaguely as one of his students, when we told him about our findings. A Hufflepuff, not extraordinary good in school, but he wasn’t that bad either. He was just normal, fitted in with the crowd, a detention now and then, but was mostly overlooked. We guess that this was his reason for using this spell. He wanted to travel back in time to make himself more important, but when he came back, he noticed that nothing had changed at all.”
“A hundred years ago?” Harry muttered in disbelieve, shaking his head. Even though he technically knew that wizards and witches usually died at a much higher age than normal humans -- Albus Dumbledore self had celebrated his 160th birthday just last year in their time -- it was still hard to understand that someone, who had visited Hogwarts a hundred years ago, was still alive. “I guess this is what you meant, when you said that you didn’t know, if he still lived.”
“Exactly,” Hermione answered and then, after exchanging yet another meaningful look with Lily, she conceded, “Harry… We know how much you hate keeping so many things from your parents, so in case this Norton Lewthwaite is dead or everything about his time travel is just invented, we also planned to ask Albus, if it will be possible that you might tell them, if not everything, then at least something.”
Shaking his head, Harry sighed defeated. “I already asked him, more than once. And I always get the same answer. It’s too risky. We don’t know, if we will change something in our time.”
“But that’s the point, Harry,” Lily argued, her green eyes blazing. “Your arrival in this time already has changed something. Albus’ employment of the four of you has changed something. You revealing your identity to us has changed something.”
Harry wanted to say something to contradict her, but hesitated. His mother was right. The attack on Hogsmeade and the attack of the snake at the end of the Halloween Ball were the proof. Those two things had never happened in their time. Things had changed and were changing, even in this very moment. Every action caused a reaction. How could he have been so blind all the time? Things were changing right under his nose and he hadn’t noticed. “You’re right. We need to talk to Albus about this. With this evidence, he just can’t forbid us to tell you what we know.” He moved to rise from his chair. “The best would be to ask him now.”
“That’s not possible,” Hermione stopped him. “He left this morning, following a lead. And he didn’t know, when he would be back.”
“Oh…” Harry slumped back into his chair. But he didn’t want to give up. For the first time since they had arrived in the past, Harry felt as if he might really be able to help. He might be able to save his parents from almost certain death. His heart flared up with hope and he smiled at the two young women in front of him. Only a few more days… if at all.
They left the library about twenty minutes later, after they had discussed the new possibilities Hermione’s and Lily’s discovery offered a bit longer, and walked down the draughty hallways to the Entrance Hall. Harry and Hermione had offered to accompany Lily to the Hogwarts Gates, from where she planned to Apparate home. Fortunately both Harry and Hermione had their cloaks with them (Harry hadn’t taken it off at all and Hermione had already fetched Lily earlier that morning from the gates and they had gone directly to the library), so no detour had been necessary and none of them were freezing, as they were trudging through the high snow.
After Lily had promised them to come by again in the following days, she disappeared with the typical popping noise of Apparition, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. Now, Harry knew, was the time to breach the topic, which he had originally wanted to discuss with Hermione. So, with a nervous breath, Harry took out his cigarettes, lit one and finally asked, “’Mione, can we talk?”
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” she replied, rolling her eyes at his bad habit.
Instead of answering at once, Harry smiled grimly and began to walk towards the Quidditch pitch, knowing that no sane person would be out there in this cold. Hermione immediately fell in step next to him, now looking at him curiously. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth to shake the ash off, he simply said, “I know about you and Draco.”
He noticed that Hermione stopped immediately in her tracks upon hearing this, but he walked on, trusting her to catch up to him again in a few seconds. And he was right, as she suddenly grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, a simple question on her lips, “How?”
With a shrug, Harry explained, “You woke me up.” He didn’t need to say more, because he saw in her eyes that she understood.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, lowering her head so that she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t have found out like that…”
“Hey,” he said softly, as he put his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “It’s alright. I understand. Okay, I admit, I’ve been shocked at first, but now it somehow makes sense, in some weird, twisted way, if you get my meaning. You and Draco,” he shook his head with a grin on his face, “who would’ve thought ten years ago?”
A very unladylike snort escaped Hermione’s lips. “Certainly not I or any of us for that matter.”
“But it’s okay, really,” Harry reassured her again. “I had this huge speech all planned out, about you having to be careful and about what I’ll do, when he hurts you, but all I can really say is what I’ve already told Hagrid -- as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you. You are happy with him, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Hermione answered and Harry saw tears glistening in her eyes. Suddenly, a split second later, she was hugging him tightly and Harry had to hold his cigarette away at arms length, while hugging her back with his other arm. “Thank you, Harry,” she mumbled against his dark cloak.
Laughing, Harry rubbed her back. “You’re welcome.” He gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from him, looking directly into her eyes. “Just, if you’re ever again scared of telling me something, remember that you don’t have to be. I’m your friend, ‘Mione.” And, in his mind, he added, I’m not Ron.
“I know,” she said, also with a weak laugh, wiping her eyes. “And I’ll keep that in mind. But, thank you… again… It’s good to know that you accept… us, just like this.”
Harry simply shrugged again and took another drag from his cigarette. In his mind, after having thought about this for a long time of course, it really wasn’t much of a big deal. “Not to spoil the moment, but you know that the hardest hurdle is still lying before you.”
“Ron…” Hermione sighed.
“I won’t tell him,” Harry promised. “But you should tell him soon, before he finds out from somebody else.”
Another sigh and then silence. Hermione began to walk again and Harry followed, having immediately recognized the thoughtful look on his friends face and knowing better than to disturb her now. Finally, after a few minutes, she said, “A few more days. Give me a few more days and I will tell him.”
Harry put his arm around her shoulder and said, “You want a few more days? You’ll get a few more days. But now, I think we should go back inside. It’s damned cold out here!”
He was glad, when he heard her laughter and he soon joined her, when she suddenly said, “By the way, Harry… You should really get rid of this disgusting habit!”