A/N: Well, I think that this story is slowly getting popular… Three more reviews, thank you very much!
Chapter 5: Talking Time
Harry led his friends back the way that Dumbledore had shown him to where Ron, Hermione and Draco had been kept. Fortunately the place was not that big, because Harry had a hard time remembering the exact turns, since he had been deep in thoughts on his way upstairs. He almost sighed with relief, as they arrived in the kitchen. He had almost expected to appear in some storeroom or something like that, which would have earned him at least a snide comment from Malfoy.
Much to Harry’s surprise, the only person present in the kitchen was Albus Dumbledore. Hermione, Ron and Draco stopped behind him, taking in their surroundings warily. He could understand his friends “ he himself did not feel comfortable at all. The strange surroundings, unfamiliar familiar faces and most of all the fact that they had really gone back in time sinking in was enough reason to feel on edge. Suddenly he heard Draco wincing sharply and noticed the probing look Dumbledore had given the blond auror. The next thing Harry knew was that Draco had pulled out his wand and directed it at Dumbledore. The black-haired young man quickly pushed Draco’s arm down and glared at him sharply.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
“He tried to get into my head!” Draco retorted. He did not take his eyes from the Headmaster and his arm was still tense. Harry recoiled slightly, knowing fully well what Draco was talking about, since he had been on the end of Dumbledore’s prying mind earlier that day and also understanding that the old wizard must have taken a look into his other friends’ minds as well.
“’Tried’ being the keyword,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I did not expect that not just one, but two of you are trained that exceptionally well in Occlumency.”
Now it was Ron that Harry felt tense remarkably. “You were snooping around in our heads?”
“Ron!” Harry warned. He knew that they were all tired and exhausted, and so far the only one who had not snapped at anyone was Hermione. They needed to keep cool in this situation, since fighting with each other would not help them improving their current predicaments.
“Sorry,” the redhead muttered.
“You don’t need to be sorry for your reaction,” the Headmaster assured him. “I understand your reasons as I hope you do understand mine.”
“You needed to do this to confirm what Harry told you. You trusted him before, but the others asked you to do this to make sure that we mean no harm.” It was the first time since they entered the kitchen that Hermione said something and it made sense to the others.
“Indeed, Miss” Hermione, wasn’t it?” The young woman nodded tiredly. “Well then, why don’t you sit down, eat something and then we can discuss the concepts of time travel.”
Harry watched somewhat amused how Hermione’s eyes lit up by the mentioning of time travel and Ron’s by the mentioning of food. Some things never changed, it seemed. When he noticed, however, that his friends were still a bit hesitant to sit down, he did the first step and pulled out a chair for himself. Slightly more encouraged by his example, they followed suit and soon they were seated around the rectangular table. As soon as Draco had sat down as last one, dishes appeared in front of them and with a plop a house-elf materialized next to them, holding a plate with a huge stack of sandwiches in its one hand and a teapot in the other. It looked like any other house-elf with the large ears and the huge eyes, dressed in a pillowcase. Its appearance earned Dumbledore an angry look by Hermione, who still did fully intend to continue with S.P.E.W. (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare) as soon as the nightmare with Voldemort was over.
“Milly is bringing Professor Dumbledore and Professor Dumbledore’s guests the sandwiches and tea just like he asked Milly to do, Sir,” the elf squeaked, as she put the plate and pot on the table.
Dumbledore smiled kindly at the elf. “Thank you, Milly. You may now retire to your quarters.”
“Thank you, Sir, you are too kind to Milly!” The house-elf snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving the five of them again alone.
“What are you waiting for? I assure you, Milly’s sandwiches are only topped by the ones of a dear friend and former pupil of mine.” He said this while giving Ron a side-glance, which the young man, however, did not notice, because after having gotten the permission to eat, his full devotion had gone to the sandwiches. The other three friends shrugged at each other and each took one of the sandwiches.
When Dumbledore thought that the first hunger of the young people was sated, he guessed that it was time to talk. “I do not mean to bother you, you may continue to eat, but I believe there are some things which we have to discuss. Young Mister Potter has already told me a bit, including some rather fascinating and interesting revelations, but he left out your identities,” he addressed Ron, Hermione and Draco. “I could be guessing, but I think it would be a lot easier for all of us if you just told me at least your names and probable relations to people I know in this time, so that we can maybe avoid confrontations.”
The three of them exchanged uncertain looks and also glanced at Harry, who gave them an encouraging nod, saying, “We don’t have anything to lose. He already knows about me, so what harm is done, if he knew about you as well?”
Hermione smiled at him and started. “My name is Hermione Granger and I’m a Muggle born witch, so I don’t think you know any relatives of me.”
“Indeed, I don’t. Miss Granger, Mr. Potter told me that it would be you I should talk about time travel, so I guess that you are quite knowledgeable.” Hermione fought a blush that was creeping up her cheeks and nodded slightly. Dumbledore then turned to Ron, who was seated next to her. “You are a Weasley, I take it?”
“Yes, I’m Ron- I mean, Ronald Weasley, but everyone just calls me Ron,” the young man told him. “I’m not as smart as Hermione, but I think I’m a pretty good strategist.” Harry and Hermione could not help but snort something that sounded much like “Understatement of the century” and Ron glared at them.
“And you play Quidditch,” Dumbledore added, referring to the orange robes he was still wearing. Ron mumbled something like “yeah” before the Headmaster finally addressed the last one of the three. “You are not in any way related to Lucius Malfoy, are you?”
Draco growled under his breath. “He was my father. The name’s Draco Malfoy.” He broke the eye contact to Dumbledore and turned his interest back to the half-eaten sandwich on his plate to make it clear that he would not tell more about himself.
Dumbledore, however, was not affronted by this action and instead gave the group once again a good look-over. He had been right with his earlier assumptions, this group was truly interesting. Harry Potter, prophecy-child and only survivor of the killing curse; Hermione Granger, a Muggle born witch with an seemingly infinite mind; Ron Weasley, loyal friend and great strategist; and Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater with an apparently troubled past “ four different persons with four completely different characters, each of them filling out what the others don’t have. But they had one thing in common “ their eyes betrayed that they had all seen too much in their young years, too much suffering, too much death. Dumbledore shook his head inwardly. Now was not the time for this. He needed to know what brought them back in time in the first place so that he could find a way to bring them back. He knew of the dangers of time travel, of the dire consequences that could occur once something was changed.
“Good, now that we are done with the introductions I say we should move on to more pressing matters. Miss Granger, would you like to enlighten us what exactly happened, which spell Voldemort used and so on?”
Hermione nodded and then proceeded to tell him everything without revealing anything that might disrupt the timeline any more than their appearance already did. She told him about the attack at the Burrow and about how Harry had faced Voldemort alone. She continued by telling the Headmaster how they had joined their friend and at last about the spell Voldemort had cast on them and they had come to in the woods. When Hermione had mentioned the spell “Proferre Tempus”, Dumbledore had raised an eyebrow, but had not interrupted the young woman.
Harry had started to feel drowsier with any minute that passed. The aching in his body had gotten worse and though the hunger was gone, he was still completely and utterly exhausted. Ron also looked like his head might hit the table any minute now and Draco had taken sudden interest in a fly that was zooming through the kitchen. Harry rubbed his forehead. He did not want to worry his friends and Dumbledore, but the tingling he had felt earlier in his scar had turned into a splitting headache, making it hard to concentrate on anything.
“You okay, Harry?” he suddenly heard Hermione asking. He had not even noticed that she was finished with her tale, and looked up startled.
“It’s… nothing…” he answered quickly. He’s angry, Harry thought. He’s angry that the attack on the Weasley’s failed. “I think we could all use some rest before we continue. I don’t think we’re of much help this way.”
“Of course,” Dumbledore said. “You must forgive an old man. I forgot that you have all been through a battle before you arrived here and then with the stress put on you after your arrival, it’s no wonder that you are exhausted. We will adjourn this conversation until you are well rested. Unfortunately, I have not enough room for you in this house, so I would suppose that you come to Hogwarts with me. While you were still upstairs, I have seen to that quarters for you were prepared in which you are allowed to stay as long as you wish.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said. “We really appreciate that.”
Professor Dumbledore smiled at them and transformed the teapot into a portkey. When all of them had a grip on it, he counted down from three and Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel. He barely managed to stand, when they appeared in a circular room. Though it was a warm morning “ the sun was already fully up “ a fire was burning in the fireplace. In the middle of the room were a round dark wooden table, four stuffed armchairs and a couch, all held in red, much to Draco’s dismay. There was a large window with view of the Quidditch field, four doors and a hole, which would lead outside through a portrait in the walls.
“I do hope that this provides all the privacy you require. The four doors each lead to a separate room with an adjoining bathroom for each of you. Those rooms are your private chambers and you can change them to your liking,” Dumbledore explained, casting a small glance at Draco, who was still looking at his surroundings with a small amount of distaste.
“This is magnificent,” Hermione mumbled. Not even during her time as Head Girl had she had so much luxury. At least now she did not have to share a bathroom with Malfoy like she had to in seventh year. She only remembered all too well how she had walked into him as he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. She had not been able to look at him for a week without having to blush. He himself had only used this chance to taunt her even more than before.
“I’m glad that you are satisfied with your quarters, but now I will retreat and leave you some time to rest. Just come to my office, when you think you are ready to continue our conversation. I’ll be waiting for you.” Giving them one last reassuring smile, the Headmaster turned to leave through the portrait. “Before I forget - the password to your quarters is Future’s past. If you want to change it, just tap the portrait twice with your wand and tell it the new password.” He pulled the portrait aside and stepped out of the room, leaving the four of them alone.
“Well then… Goodnight…” Harry said curtly and disappeared behind the first door. The room behind the door was rather large with a Gryffindor-coloured four-poster bed at the wall in the middle of the room. A desk stood next to the bed and in front of the window, so that he had a perfect view of the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid’s hut. On the other side of the bed was a large cupboard and in the other wall a door, which led to the bathroom. But Harry was too tired to check this out and just lay down on the bed, after he had pulled off his boots, taken off his cloak and closed the curtains around his bed. He was asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.
~*~
Back in the common room, Ron was staring at the door, having a confused look on his face. “What was this about?”
“When you don’t know, you’re really as thick as I always thought you were, Weasley,” Draco snarled. “Whatever. I could also use some sleep. See ya later.” With that, he went through the fourth door.
“Hermione, please don’t tell me, you also know what’s going on…”
Hermione sighed. “Really, Ron. Don’t you see? First the battle against Voldemort, and I think that Harry really thought it would finally end that night, then the spell, seeing Sirius again and most of all, meeting for the first time in his life his father and the reaction both of them had and then the whole prospect of probably never being able to get back and finish what he had started. I think he’s just completely physically and emotionally drained and needs some time to recover.” She barely suppressed a yawn. “We should follow his and Draco’s example and get some sleep. We have no idea how exhausting the following days, weeks or even months could become. Goodnight, Ron.”
Slightly taking aback by what Hermione had said, he just watched her disappear behind the third door, leaving the second bedroom for him. How come he had not understood that before, when it was all so clear? Maybe he was still just too confused about this whole thing, after all, Harry had not been the only one who had seen members of his family. Ron still felt his heart sink, when he remembered the look his mother had given him. She had looked at him as if he were just some filth who had wanted to hurt her and her family. But when he thought about this more, he could sympathize with her. She did not know that he was her son and there had been an attack planned on them. But the same applied for the Marauders and their reaction to Harry. Shaking his head, he crossed the room and went through the door to the last free bedroom. He was too exhausted to have any more complicated and coherent thoughts. Maybe everything would become clearer, when they all had enough sleep.