Chrononauts, Part IId
May. 5th, 2012 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annafugazziPairing(s): Harry/Draco (implied Ron/Hermione, brief Harry/Ginny, Draco/Astoria, Draco/Blaise, other minor pairings)
Summary: Harry and Draco learn that Time is making fools of them again. And then they learn it... again.
Rating: R
Warning(s): Drug use, general confusion.
Epilogue compliant? That's a good question!
Word Count: ~39K
2.14. Hospital wing, Nexus minus 3:30 hours
"I have spoken to Severus," said McGonagall, coming into the hospital wing. Snape swept in behind her, holding a small vial, staring at the older Malfoy with curiosity and at both older Harrys with distaste. "He is going to speak to the three of you," she said to the time travellers. "The rest of you wait here." She led the group into Madam Pomfrey's office, and there was a sudden buzzing sound that indicated a sound-deadening spell in place.
The others sat in silence for a few moments.
"If she decides that this still isn't good enough, that she's still not convinced..." Malfoy began.
"Then we'll have to convince her," said Hermione.
"And if we can't?"
"We'll have to think of something," said Harry.
"We can't go against her," said George. "All questions of loyalty to the Order aside, she's a tough old bird, and smarter than just about anybody we know except Dumbledore."
"She's not infallible, George," said Fred.
"What are you saying?" asked George. "You'd deliberately disobey her?"
"Not like we haven't before," said Fred.
"But not like this," George protested. "Not with anything this big. This isn't skiving off Transfigurations class you're talking about."
"Which makes it even more important," said Fred. "This isn't something where if we disobey we might get a detention. This is real, George."
"I know it's real," said George, stung. "Just because I don't agree--"
"Just because we're talking about--" Fred began, and then broke off. They stared at one another, and Harry could almost feel their unease at finding themselves arguing.
Was that what was in the future for all of them? Brothers, best friends, spouses, entire families torn apart?
What was the alternative, though? If they tried to force time back to how it was 'supposed' to have happened, supposedly Fred and George would not end up as sworn enemies. Because there would be no Fred and George; only George, alone and shattered. Lupin and Tonks would not be torn apart by her mother's death and her father's disloyalty to the Ministry. They would both simply be dead, and their child would grow up an orphan.
If McGonagall didn't agree to let MacCauley fix the timeline, it was unlikely there would be three factions. He reminded himself that they knew, now, what had happened in one version of the future, and surely they were smart enough to not allow it to happen again. They wouldn't let Moody be elected Minister. They would make sure purebloods weren't unfairly victimized. They would figure out what to do with the part of Harry that was Voldemort's soul.
But time would be changed. Would possibly still break down. The only future that didn't hold a threat of eventual total breakdown was the bleak one that had produced Harry Three.
Harry closed his eyes and hoped. For what, he had no idea.
Finally the door opened, and McGonagall, Snape and the time travellers came out. Snape looked to be deep in thought, Harry Three sunk into despair.
"Professor Snape agrees with Mr. MacCauley and Mr. Hayford," said McGonagall. "We are going to put the timeline back to what it should have been."
Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Malfoy swallowed hard, looking both relieved and disappointed.
"What changed your mind?" Tonks asked McGonagall.
"Professor Snape is a skilled Legilimens," said McGonagall, and all three Harrys grimaced.
"And neither elder Potter has improved on even the woefully minimal level of Occlumency they learned from me when they were fifteen years old," said Snape. "And Mr. MacCauley, who is a skilled Occlumens, agreed to take Veritaserum."
"The task we are faced with now is going to be exceedingly difficult," said McGonagall briskly. "It is of course no longer a mere question of making sure that nobody interferes with the Cabinet or prevents Severus from doing as Albus requested. We now also need to make sure none of us remember any of this. We will all need to make sure what we remember of this day is only what should have happened, if not for the appearance of Mr. MacCauley."
"There is something you're not thinking of, Minerva," said Lupin. "If we put this timeline back to what it was supposed to be, what's to stop Harry -- our Harry, that is -- from taking the same steps as Harry Three, four years from now?"
"Yeah, I know, it's bloody depressing," said Hayford. "We're potentially creating an endless temporal loop." He sighed. "What I wouldn't give for some Firewhisky right now," he muttered, and pushed up his glasses with a trembling hand.
He really looked like shit, thought Harry uncharitably in the silence that followed. He was even paler than before, his grey eyes dull with exhaustion, same as MacCauley and Harry Three -- in fact, they all looked like shit. God, how the hell had they all allowed themselves to get into such a fucked-up state?
Harry pushed down his impatience, and reminded himself that, fucked up as they were, they'd all still managed to do something pretty damn heroic, travelling into the past to save the world.
And suddenly he felt oddly humbled by the three time travellers. And even more oddly humbled by Malfoy -- his own Malfoy, that is -- because Malfoy had apparently also been operating under a hell of a lot of misery all year long, and still persevered in doing his best to accomplish what he thought was the right thing to do, just like the time travellers had.
All right, so the goal itself was somewhat less world-saving than MacCauley and Hayford and Harry Three's. Still pretty impressive, when you looked at it a certain way.
MacCauley cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about it," he said to Hayford slowly. "I think -- as long as you and I don't just disappear in a puff of time logic -- maybe we can try to do something about that. When the time comes. Maybe hide the Time Magic books that Granger started reading, the research from Magda Geschichte that started her down that path. Or maybe come and talk to Harry four years from now. Somehow convince him not to go back in time."
"That's a lot of maybes," said Lupin.
"Are you objecting because you don't think I can do it?" asked MacCauley quietly. "Or because you've seen the future as it's supposed to be, and you don't particularly want to die?"
There was another heavy pause, broken by Snape. "I doubt any of those of us who have found out we're marked for death is particularly eager to die," he said. Harry glanced around at Lupin, holding on tightly to Tonks's hand, and Fred, standing behind George, a set look on his face and a hand resting on George's bowed shoulders. "Nor are any of us particularly eager to see Albus Dumbledore die before our eyes three hours from now." He pressed his lips together, and Harry could see a tremor passing through him. Good God, Snape was going to kill Dumbledore. Mere hours from now, if they went ahead with this, Severus Snape would be forced to commit murder. "But I do not see that there is much choice. The alternative is a few more years of life, and then chaos that will not just touch us, but the entire Wizarding world -- and beyond."
"Remus," said McGonagall. "Your concerns are noted. But I'm not sure we have a choice."
Lupin nodded, his face pale.
"And if we're going to Obliviate everyone, Remus, you've always been good at this; will you do the honours?"
Lupin bowed his head, then nodded. "This will obviously work best if I not only take away your memories of all that's happened, but also replace them with memories of what you all supposedly would have been doing if none of these gentlemen had appeared today. For myself and Tonks, it'll be simple enough to create memories of the two of us simply doing our patrolling duties, so I'll leave us to the end."
Tonks, her hair starting to fade to a softer pink, touched his hand, and they shared a wistful look. She cleared her throat and turned to the time travellers. "Can any of you perform complex Obliviates?" she asked. "It'll go faster if it's not just one person doing it."
MacCauley and Hayford nodded. "I'm good at it," said Hayford. "It's standard Auror Training under Moody: Obliviating, implanting false memories, retrieving memories for Pensieves..."
"Retrieving -- as in, someone else's?" said Hermione. "Don't they have to cooperate?"
"Not necessarily," said Hayford. "Not with a Deanimus spell."
"Wouldn't that be painful?"
"It was when Voldemort invented the procedure," said MacCauley. "I helped bring it into the Aurors, and make it less painful. It puts them to sleep first."
She pursed her lips. "It's still a terrible invasion of privacy."
"If you're innocent, you've got nothing to hide," Hayford shrugged. "And if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. At least, that's how Moody puts it."
"Harry?" said Lupin, and Harry suddenly realized Lupin was addressing him. "What would you have been doing today?"
"Today? Oh, erm... Ginny," said Harry, and blushed a bit as Malfoy sniggered. "I mean, we -- I was supposed to meet her at the lake, only I didn't show up, and she... erm, we sort of had a fight."
Lupin smiled slightly. "I'll give you a memory of... a happy hour by the lake, then, and a pleasant day spent thinking kind thoughts about her," he paused. "Suppose I'll have to track her down and do the same to her." He turned to the twins. "What would you two have been doing?"
"Wailing Woozies," they said, both rather subdued.
"There's too much wailing," Fred continued.
"And not enough woozing," said George.
Lupin blinked a bit. "Ah. Of course. Well then, I'll make a memory of you working on them in your workroom. Actually... you know, I could probably help with the Wailing Woozies, James once tried to--"
"We're trying to not change the timeline, Remus," said MacCauley, chuckling.
"Right, yes," said Lupin. "Hermione, you would have been studying, no doubt?"
"Actually," said Hermione, "I was trying to find out the identity of the Half-Blood Prince."
"The who?" asked Lupin, and glanced curiously at Snape, who'd suddenly started coughing.
"Erm, the Half-Blood Prince, long story," said Harry. "Ron, what were you going to be doing?"
"Studying," said Ron virtuously, and Harry was hard pressed not to roll his eyes.
"Right, then," said Lupin. "Severus?"
"Preparing a first year Defence Against the Dark Arts lecture on werewolves," said Snape, his coughing fit under control.
"Teaching them early, aren't you?" said Lupin mildly. "Minerva?"
"Grading twelve NEWTs-level clothing Transfiguration assignments and wondering whether or not I should be concerned that all of my male students made ruffled tartan knickers."
"Mr. Malfoy, you would have been working on the Cabinet in the Room of Requirement?'
Malfoy nodded glumly.
“You figured it out... not too much later than right now, as a matter of fact,” said MacCauley, looking at his watch. “I’ll give you the last piece of the puzzle when I Obliviate you.”
Harry Three stood slowly. "No. No, you can't do this. Put everything back the way it was. Make it so that everybody dies again, everybody goes through hell again--"
"It's the way the timeline is supposed to go," said MacCauley gently.
"No!" said Harry Three, his voice breaking. "You can't!"
"Shut up," snapped Hayford, his pale, red-rimmed eyes hard and uncompromising.
"You don't understand--"
Hayford stood up, his trembling hands now steady as he pointed his wand at Harry Three. "Sit back down. You fucking coward. You don't want to go through tough times, so you're willing to destroy everything--"
"To save you!" Harry Three shouted. "All of you! To make things better!"
"There is nothing better about where we came from!" Hayford shouted back.
"Harry, he's sick, he doesn't know any better--" said MacCauley, grabbing Hayford's sleeve, but Hayford was too far gone in rage to hear.
"You bastard! It's because of you that I lost almost everything that meant anything to me, that I became--"
Harry Three moved and suddenly his wand was pointing at Hayford, and Harry's breath stopped.
"Stop it!" cried out Hermione. "Harry! Stop it!"
"I'm not going to let you leave everything as it was!" ranted Harry Three. "You don't understand! People are going to die, again, because of you!"
"You're the one who doesn't understand!" Hayford flung back. "You're going to make people wish they'd died instead! Again!"
"You--"
"And I will kill you before I let that happen again!"
Every wand was now trained upon them as the two men faced each other, pain lining both faces, desperation making both of them shake. God, if he could just -- if somebody could stun one Harry at the same time as the other one got stunned, neither one would have the advantage over the other one -- and he prepared to cast Stupefy on Harry Three and hope somebody got Hayford--
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted two identical voices, both voices the same as Harry's and neither coming from his own throat, and both men were lying prone.
Harry drew in his breath.
"Harry!" MacCauley fell to his knees next to Hayford. "Oh God, Harry, what the fuck have you done--" he shook him, then picked up his limp body, hugging him close. "Oh my God, Harry, you stupid bastard, what've you done..." his voice broke and he buried his head in Hayford's hair. "Harry..." The name came out in a sob.
Dimly Harry was aware of movement around him, aware that Hermione had dropped down beside Harry Three and was frantically checking for vital signs, that McGonagall and Ron were kneeling as well, and he and Malfoy glanced at each other and joined MacCauley on the floor. MacCauley was now weeping, holding on to Hayford, and Malfoy cautiously put out a hand and touched his shoulder.
"I'm... I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Is he dead?" asked Harry, and his own voice sounded strangely hollow.
MacCauley nodded mutely, still weeping.
"So is he," said Hermione, her fingers on Harry Three’s wrist. "They both... they're gone."
Harry took a deep breath. He'd been a triplet there, for a few hours, and now he was a singleton again. Definitely the weirdest day he'd ever have, he thought vaguely. And if it wasn't, he certainly didn't want to know what could possibly be weirder.
He glanced at Fred and George. God, George was going to lose so much more than Harry had - a lifetime of being a twin would be gone forever in less than a year, and Fred had less than a year to live and laugh and get all out of life that he could, and yet he and Fred stood pale-faced and resolute next to grim, determined Snape...
Lupin was holding Tonks, as they all gazed at MacCauley, crying brokenly over Hayford. She wiped her cheek and rested her head on Lupin's shoulder, holding him close, her hair now the same mousy brown it had been when Harry had first seen her today.
That was that, then. Now there was only MacCauley to figure out what to do with, assuming they all survived what Lupin was going to do to them.
"Erm... it's almost ten," said Ron hesitantly. "Presumably Dumbledore's going to come back soon, and send Harry his note..."
"For fuck's sake just let him say goodbye, Weasley," said Malfoy, his voice rough.
"Ron, leave them alone," said Harry.
"I'm just saying, mate," said Ron. "If we're going to do this, the rest of us need to start moving."
Harry nodded. Fair enough. He gave MacCauley a cautious pat on the shoulder, knowing MacCauley probably wasn't aware of anything but the dead man in his arms. He started to stand.
"Erm... hang on," said Malfoy.
Malfoy was staring at Hayford's hand, and Harry followed his gaze.
"What the..."
He looked closer. Yeah, the fingers had moved. Slightly. "Malfoy... erm, MacCauley," he said, touching MacCauley's shoulder. "Erm. I think... can you sit up a bit..."
Malfoy bent forward, taking Hayford's hand in his. "He's..."
"I'm not sure he's dead," said Harry slowly.
MacCauley raised his head. "What?"
"He -- I think he's alive," said Malfoy. He felt Hayford's wrist. "I'm pretty sure I can feel a pulse here." Suddenly Hayford's body jerked, and he drew a shallow breath.
"Fuck!" said Malfoy, jolting back and dropping Hayford's wrist. "He's alive!"
"What?!"
There was mass confusion as everybody crowded around, and MacCauley sat up, wiping his eyes, staring at Hayford disbelieving as he breathed more steadily and finally opened his eyes.
"Harry," MacCauley said, drawing Hayford close again and kissing him. "God, I... what the hell happened?"
"Draco?" said Hayford, staring up at him, dazed. "What happened?"
"We've no idea," said Lupin. "You both cursed each other, but somehow you're still alive and he's gone."
Hermione frowned, then said slowly, "Hang on..." and took out her wand. "Serpensortia!" she said, and a snake flew out of the end of her wand.
"Hermione!" said Ron. "What the--"
"Can you speak to the snake?" Hermione asked urgently.
"Can I what?"
"The snake. Can you understand it?" Hermione repeated, and poked at the snake with her wand.
"Sssstop that!" hissed the snake, and Hayford gaped at it.
"No, I can't. I can't -- it's nothing but hissing. Can you understand it?" he asked Harry.
"Yeah, it's... not very happy," he said, figuring that what the snake had just called Hermione ("stupid female who lays hard-shelled eggs") wouldn't make any sense if he tried to translate it.
"Vipera Evanesca," said Snape, and the small irate snake disappeared in a flash of light.
"Which means what, exactly?" asked Ron.
"I think it means he's still alive but the part of him that died was... Voldemort," Hermione said, and gave Harry a look of apology.
Oh right. Because he still had a Voldemort-soul-nibblet in him.
"Bloody hell."
There was a brief silence, broken by Lupin. "Are we still going to do this?" he asked. "Because if so, we're going to have to hurry."
There was a collective rustle as they all shook themselves and went back into crisis-managing mode.
MacCauley wiped his reddened eyes and cleared his throat. "Right. In a few minutes, Jimmy Peakes will come and give Harry a note from Dumbledore, Harry will give Felix Felicis potion to all of you, warn you to protect the school, and leave with Dumbledore."
"Don't tell us any of that," said Ron.
"Doesn't make any difference, as you're not going to remember any of what I’m saying in a few minutes anyway," said MacCauley. "Harry -- sorry, Hayford and I will stay at the school, under Harry's Cloak. We'll stay to make sure everything goes the way Harry Three said it did. As soon as Snape and the Death Eaters are gone from the school, we'll come back here, pick up Harry Three's body, and we'll leave."
"And what'll happen in 2001?" asked Harry. "When I apparently get so fucked up I go and destroy the world?"
MacCauley shook his head. "I'll figure something out."
"That's it? That's all we're going on? Your ability to figure this out eventually?"
"I'll think of something. Maybe visit you, or send you a letter, or something."
"Draco is our best hope," said Lupin. "Trust him."
"Potter," said Malfoy quietly. "I think he's right."
Harry's gaze met Malfoy's, and it was bizarre, even after all that had happened today, to look into his eyes and not see sneering hatred or sullen hostility within them. To feel attraction towards him, and a kind of admiration, and trust, and regret, and so many conflicting emotions... none of which he was going to remember in just a few moments.
Harry squared his shoulders and faced MacCauley. "All right," he said. "Let's do this."
Hayford approached Ron, and took out his wand. "Ready mate?" he asked, and when Ron nodded, he said, "Obliviate."
"Are you ready, Harry?" asked MacCauley. Harry braced himself. "Obliv-" MacCauley began, then stopped and his eyes took on a thoughtful look. And the last thing Harry saw was MacCauley -- Draco Malfoy's -- blue eyes steady on his, as he whispered, "Deanimus."
Epilogue: King's Cross, Nexus plus 20 years
Draco peered through the fog, trying to see the families at the station. Ugh, this was why he didn't much miss Merry Olde England. It was like trying to see through pumpkin soup.
"There they are," said Harry, and Draco turned to see the large group Harry was pointing at making their way across the platform.
There they were, indeed. Harry, his wife, and their three children, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and their sprogs, and an assortment of trunks, cages, suitcases, schoolbags...
Harry nudged him and he turned again, seeing a much smaller group making their way across the station. Astoria had certainly aged well, he thought. Somewhat better than he had himself, considering the hairline and the scraggly... thing on his younger version's chin.
He still sometimes missed the white-blond hair and pale, unfreckled skin. And he'd often wondered what it would've been like to spawn, and looking at how his younger self smiled at the white-haired child with him, his heart twinged at the thought that he'd never have that for himself. And neither would Harry.
But there were far worse lives to be lived than the ones they were currently living.
"So that's James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna," said Draco to Harry. "I'm amazed she didn't kill him."
"Well you're the one who told him he should stop drinking, crawl back and apologize to Ginny, get married, and have lots of kids named after dead people."
"Merlin, I was joking about that last part."
"He didn't know that. And he was not in a good place when he got that letter."
No, he hadn't been. Draco remembered the stories in the Prophet, the Boy Who Lived imploding, leaving his long-suffering girlfriend, dropping out of the Aurors, arrested for public drunkenness -- as if the papers didn't have enough misery to write about in the rest of the Wizarding world at that point.
He still wondered what Harry had thought of their letter. If he had kept the Pensieve that accompanied it, full of his own and Draco's memories.
"I wonder if he ever told anyone about any of it," mused Harry. "Or if he got rid of the memories and the Pensieve, and Obliviated himself."
The younger Harry looked up at that moment, spotted the younger Draco and his family, and an odd, thoughtful look passed over his features for a moment before he turned back to his own children.
"Whether he did or not, I'm glad I was right," Draco said. "And he certainly looks happy enough," he added, hoping his tone didn't sound as wistful as he felt. "They all do. They just needed time."
There was a brief silence, and then Harry nudged him. "Oi. You were right about him. You kept an eye out for him, saw what was going on in his life, and saw that Ginny was what he needed to get through the bad time. Despite the ginger temper and the Mummy issues."
Draco shrugged.
"But I'm not him."
Draco turned to look at Harry. His Harry, the one with the warm grey eyes surrounded by laugh lines and the messy blond hair and the smile that still stole Draco's heart when it shone on him.
"You know, I can't say 'Scorpius' is any better, if we're going to be insulting our alternate version's taste in child-naming," Harry teased.
"It's traditional," said Draco.
"It's awful," said Harry.
"Well, yes, that too." Draco gazed at the family he could have had. "They look happy, though."
"Yeah. All of them do. I wonder if Astoria's actually enough to make him forget he's gay, or if he's got a dozen pool boys and she's just very understanding."
Draco smirked. "Maybe she enjoys watching him with the pool boys."
Harry chuckled, then hesitated a moment and asked, "You all right?"
"Yeah, it's just a bit odd, that's all," said Draco, and leaned back against Harry. "Seeing what's supposedly our happily ever after, only it's not ours."
"We did a good thing, you know," said Harry.
"Yeah, we did."
He glanced around the train station thoughtfully, watching the parents, the children, life carrying on all around him. It got a bit wearying sometimes, living lightly on the timeline as they did. Making sure they didn't influence anybody too much, didn't make any huge discoveries that could change the world, didn't have any effect that would outlive them. Living on a small farm on Tenerife in the Canary Islands, no children, no close friends, not even joining their local Town Beautification Council.
So different from all of this hustle and bustle, he thought, picturing their small farm. Their tidy little house, full of brooms and books and a well-loved and battered violin, white waves washing their cove, and no alcohol or any other recreational potions or herbs for seventeen years now, and counting.
"They're leaving a legacy, though," he said, gesturing at their other selves. Both men were speaking with their sons -- Harry kneeling down and earnestly saying something to a black-haired boy who looked so much like him it was eerie, and Draco giving his own little clone a warm hug and a fatherly smile the likes of which had never graced Lucius Malfoy's face. "They can... you know, influence the world..." He trailed off, unable to put adequate words to his feelings.
"We did influence the world," said Harry softly. "We bloody well saved it. That's our legacy, even if nobody but him," he nodded towards the younger Harry, now giving his son a hug, "even knows it."
Draco turned around and smiled at him. "Yeah. I suppose it is." He gave Harry a kiss. "Right, then. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go home."
- End.
PS #1: Chrononauts is real. It's a totally brilliant card game:
http://www.looneylabs.com/games/chrononauts
PS #2: There really is a song called Hermione Granger the Pirate Queen:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3p_Kewu7jc
PS #3: Malfoy Manor as a bed and breakfast is not my idea; I've just always fangirled geoviki's marvelous A Thousand Beautiful Things.
Link to Part Ia
Link to Part Ib
Link to Part IIa
Link to Part IIb
Link to Part IIc (Previous)
Summary: Harry and Draco learn that Time is making fools of them again. And then they learn it... again.
Rating: R
Warning(s): Drug use, general confusion.
Epilogue compliant? That's a good question!
Word Count: ~39K
"I have spoken to Severus," said McGonagall, coming into the hospital wing. Snape swept in behind her, holding a small vial, staring at the older Malfoy with curiosity and at both older Harrys with distaste. "He is going to speak to the three of you," she said to the time travellers. "The rest of you wait here." She led the group into Madam Pomfrey's office, and there was a sudden buzzing sound that indicated a sound-deadening spell in place.
The others sat in silence for a few moments.
"If she decides that this still isn't good enough, that she's still not convinced..." Malfoy began.
"Then we'll have to convince her," said Hermione.
"And if we can't?"
"We'll have to think of something," said Harry.
"We can't go against her," said George. "All questions of loyalty to the Order aside, she's a tough old bird, and smarter than just about anybody we know except Dumbledore."
"She's not infallible, George," said Fred.
"What are you saying?" asked George. "You'd deliberately disobey her?"
"Not like we haven't before," said Fred.
"But not like this," George protested. "Not with anything this big. This isn't skiving off Transfigurations class you're talking about."
"Which makes it even more important," said Fred. "This isn't something where if we disobey we might get a detention. This is real, George."
"I know it's real," said George, stung. "Just because I don't agree--"
"Just because we're talking about--" Fred began, and then broke off. They stared at one another, and Harry could almost feel their unease at finding themselves arguing.
Was that what was in the future for all of them? Brothers, best friends, spouses, entire families torn apart?
What was the alternative, though? If they tried to force time back to how it was 'supposed' to have happened, supposedly Fred and George would not end up as sworn enemies. Because there would be no Fred and George; only George, alone and shattered. Lupin and Tonks would not be torn apart by her mother's death and her father's disloyalty to the Ministry. They would both simply be dead, and their child would grow up an orphan.
If McGonagall didn't agree to let MacCauley fix the timeline, it was unlikely there would be three factions. He reminded himself that they knew, now, what had happened in one version of the future, and surely they were smart enough to not allow it to happen again. They wouldn't let Moody be elected Minister. They would make sure purebloods weren't unfairly victimized. They would figure out what to do with the part of Harry that was Voldemort's soul.
But time would be changed. Would possibly still break down. The only future that didn't hold a threat of eventual total breakdown was the bleak one that had produced Harry Three.
Harry closed his eyes and hoped. For what, he had no idea.
Finally the door opened, and McGonagall, Snape and the time travellers came out. Snape looked to be deep in thought, Harry Three sunk into despair.
"Professor Snape agrees with Mr. MacCauley and Mr. Hayford," said McGonagall. "We are going to put the timeline back to what it should have been."
Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Malfoy swallowed hard, looking both relieved and disappointed.
"What changed your mind?" Tonks asked McGonagall.
"Professor Snape is a skilled Legilimens," said McGonagall, and all three Harrys grimaced.
"And neither elder Potter has improved on even the woefully minimal level of Occlumency they learned from me when they were fifteen years old," said Snape. "And Mr. MacCauley, who is a skilled Occlumens, agreed to take Veritaserum."
"The task we are faced with now is going to be exceedingly difficult," said McGonagall briskly. "It is of course no longer a mere question of making sure that nobody interferes with the Cabinet or prevents Severus from doing as Albus requested. We now also need to make sure none of us remember any of this. We will all need to make sure what we remember of this day is only what should have happened, if not for the appearance of Mr. MacCauley."
"There is something you're not thinking of, Minerva," said Lupin. "If we put this timeline back to what it was supposed to be, what's to stop Harry -- our Harry, that is -- from taking the same steps as Harry Three, four years from now?"
"Yeah, I know, it's bloody depressing," said Hayford. "We're potentially creating an endless temporal loop." He sighed. "What I wouldn't give for some Firewhisky right now," he muttered, and pushed up his glasses with a trembling hand.
He really looked like shit, thought Harry uncharitably in the silence that followed. He was even paler than before, his grey eyes dull with exhaustion, same as MacCauley and Harry Three -- in fact, they all looked like shit. God, how the hell had they all allowed themselves to get into such a fucked-up state?
Harry pushed down his impatience, and reminded himself that, fucked up as they were, they'd all still managed to do something pretty damn heroic, travelling into the past to save the world.
And suddenly he felt oddly humbled by the three time travellers. And even more oddly humbled by Malfoy -- his own Malfoy, that is -- because Malfoy had apparently also been operating under a hell of a lot of misery all year long, and still persevered in doing his best to accomplish what he thought was the right thing to do, just like the time travellers had.
All right, so the goal itself was somewhat less world-saving than MacCauley and Hayford and Harry Three's. Still pretty impressive, when you looked at it a certain way.
MacCauley cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about it," he said to Hayford slowly. "I think -- as long as you and I don't just disappear in a puff of time logic -- maybe we can try to do something about that. When the time comes. Maybe hide the Time Magic books that Granger started reading, the research from Magda Geschichte that started her down that path. Or maybe come and talk to Harry four years from now. Somehow convince him not to go back in time."
"That's a lot of maybes," said Lupin.
"Are you objecting because you don't think I can do it?" asked MacCauley quietly. "Or because you've seen the future as it's supposed to be, and you don't particularly want to die?"
There was another heavy pause, broken by Snape. "I doubt any of those of us who have found out we're marked for death is particularly eager to die," he said. Harry glanced around at Lupin, holding on tightly to Tonks's hand, and Fred, standing behind George, a set look on his face and a hand resting on George's bowed shoulders. "Nor are any of us particularly eager to see Albus Dumbledore die before our eyes three hours from now." He pressed his lips together, and Harry could see a tremor passing through him. Good God, Snape was going to kill Dumbledore. Mere hours from now, if they went ahead with this, Severus Snape would be forced to commit murder. "But I do not see that there is much choice. The alternative is a few more years of life, and then chaos that will not just touch us, but the entire Wizarding world -- and beyond."
"Remus," said McGonagall. "Your concerns are noted. But I'm not sure we have a choice."
Lupin nodded, his face pale.
"And if we're going to Obliviate everyone, Remus, you've always been good at this; will you do the honours?"
Lupin bowed his head, then nodded. "This will obviously work best if I not only take away your memories of all that's happened, but also replace them with memories of what you all supposedly would have been doing if none of these gentlemen had appeared today. For myself and Tonks, it'll be simple enough to create memories of the two of us simply doing our patrolling duties, so I'll leave us to the end."
Tonks, her hair starting to fade to a softer pink, touched his hand, and they shared a wistful look. She cleared her throat and turned to the time travellers. "Can any of you perform complex Obliviates?" she asked. "It'll go faster if it's not just one person doing it."
MacCauley and Hayford nodded. "I'm good at it," said Hayford. "It's standard Auror Training under Moody: Obliviating, implanting false memories, retrieving memories for Pensieves..."
"Retrieving -- as in, someone else's?" said Hermione. "Don't they have to cooperate?"
"Not necessarily," said Hayford. "Not with a Deanimus spell."
"Wouldn't that be painful?"
"It was when Voldemort invented the procedure," said MacCauley. "I helped bring it into the Aurors, and make it less painful. It puts them to sleep first."
She pursed her lips. "It's still a terrible invasion of privacy."
"If you're innocent, you've got nothing to hide," Hayford shrugged. "And if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. At least, that's how Moody puts it."
"Harry?" said Lupin, and Harry suddenly realized Lupin was addressing him. "What would you have been doing today?"
"Today? Oh, erm... Ginny," said Harry, and blushed a bit as Malfoy sniggered. "I mean, we -- I was supposed to meet her at the lake, only I didn't show up, and she... erm, we sort of had a fight."
Lupin smiled slightly. "I'll give you a memory of... a happy hour by the lake, then, and a pleasant day spent thinking kind thoughts about her," he paused. "Suppose I'll have to track her down and do the same to her." He turned to the twins. "What would you two have been doing?"
"Wailing Woozies," they said, both rather subdued.
"There's too much wailing," Fred continued.
"And not enough woozing," said George.
Lupin blinked a bit. "Ah. Of course. Well then, I'll make a memory of you working on them in your workroom. Actually... you know, I could probably help with the Wailing Woozies, James once tried to--"
"We're trying to not change the timeline, Remus," said MacCauley, chuckling.
"Right, yes," said Lupin. "Hermione, you would have been studying, no doubt?"
"Actually," said Hermione, "I was trying to find out the identity of the Half-Blood Prince."
"The who?" asked Lupin, and glanced curiously at Snape, who'd suddenly started coughing.
"Erm, the Half-Blood Prince, long story," said Harry. "Ron, what were you going to be doing?"
"Studying," said Ron virtuously, and Harry was hard pressed not to roll his eyes.
"Right, then," said Lupin. "Severus?"
"Preparing a first year Defence Against the Dark Arts lecture on werewolves," said Snape, his coughing fit under control.
"Teaching them early, aren't you?" said Lupin mildly. "Minerva?"
"Grading twelve NEWTs-level clothing Transfiguration assignments and wondering whether or not I should be concerned that all of my male students made ruffled tartan knickers."
"Mr. Malfoy, you would have been working on the Cabinet in the Room of Requirement?'
Malfoy nodded glumly.
“You figured it out... not too much later than right now, as a matter of fact,” said MacCauley, looking at his watch. “I’ll give you the last piece of the puzzle when I Obliviate you.”
Harry Three stood slowly. "No. No, you can't do this. Put everything back the way it was. Make it so that everybody dies again, everybody goes through hell again--"
"It's the way the timeline is supposed to go," said MacCauley gently.
"No!" said Harry Three, his voice breaking. "You can't!"
"Shut up," snapped Hayford, his pale, red-rimmed eyes hard and uncompromising.
"You don't understand--"
Hayford stood up, his trembling hands now steady as he pointed his wand at Harry Three. "Sit back down. You fucking coward. You don't want to go through tough times, so you're willing to destroy everything--"
"To save you!" Harry Three shouted. "All of you! To make things better!"
"There is nothing better about where we came from!" Hayford shouted back.
"Harry, he's sick, he doesn't know any better--" said MacCauley, grabbing Hayford's sleeve, but Hayford was too far gone in rage to hear.
"You bastard! It's because of you that I lost almost everything that meant anything to me, that I became--"
Harry Three moved and suddenly his wand was pointing at Hayford, and Harry's breath stopped.
"Stop it!" cried out Hermione. "Harry! Stop it!"
"I'm not going to let you leave everything as it was!" ranted Harry Three. "You don't understand! People are going to die, again, because of you!"
"You're the one who doesn't understand!" Hayford flung back. "You're going to make people wish they'd died instead! Again!"
"You--"
"And I will kill you before I let that happen again!"
Every wand was now trained upon them as the two men faced each other, pain lining both faces, desperation making both of them shake. God, if he could just -- if somebody could stun one Harry at the same time as the other one got stunned, neither one would have the advantage over the other one -- and he prepared to cast Stupefy on Harry Three and hope somebody got Hayford--
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted two identical voices, both voices the same as Harry's and neither coming from his own throat, and both men were lying prone.
Harry drew in his breath.
"Harry!" MacCauley fell to his knees next to Hayford. "Oh God, Harry, what the fuck have you done--" he shook him, then picked up his limp body, hugging him close. "Oh my God, Harry, you stupid bastard, what've you done..." his voice broke and he buried his head in Hayford's hair. "Harry..." The name came out in a sob.
Dimly Harry was aware of movement around him, aware that Hermione had dropped down beside Harry Three and was frantically checking for vital signs, that McGonagall and Ron were kneeling as well, and he and Malfoy glanced at each other and joined MacCauley on the floor. MacCauley was now weeping, holding on to Hayford, and Malfoy cautiously put out a hand and touched his shoulder.
"I'm... I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Is he dead?" asked Harry, and his own voice sounded strangely hollow.
MacCauley nodded mutely, still weeping.
"So is he," said Hermione, her fingers on Harry Three’s wrist. "They both... they're gone."
Harry took a deep breath. He'd been a triplet there, for a few hours, and now he was a singleton again. Definitely the weirdest day he'd ever have, he thought vaguely. And if it wasn't, he certainly didn't want to know what could possibly be weirder.
He glanced at Fred and George. God, George was going to lose so much more than Harry had - a lifetime of being a twin would be gone forever in less than a year, and Fred had less than a year to live and laugh and get all out of life that he could, and yet he and Fred stood pale-faced and resolute next to grim, determined Snape...
Lupin was holding Tonks, as they all gazed at MacCauley, crying brokenly over Hayford. She wiped her cheek and rested her head on Lupin's shoulder, holding him close, her hair now the same mousy brown it had been when Harry had first seen her today.
That was that, then. Now there was only MacCauley to figure out what to do with, assuming they all survived what Lupin was going to do to them.
"Erm... it's almost ten," said Ron hesitantly. "Presumably Dumbledore's going to come back soon, and send Harry his note..."
"For fuck's sake just let him say goodbye, Weasley," said Malfoy, his voice rough.
"Ron, leave them alone," said Harry.
"I'm just saying, mate," said Ron. "If we're going to do this, the rest of us need to start moving."
Harry nodded. Fair enough. He gave MacCauley a cautious pat on the shoulder, knowing MacCauley probably wasn't aware of anything but the dead man in his arms. He started to stand.
"Erm... hang on," said Malfoy.
Malfoy was staring at Hayford's hand, and Harry followed his gaze.
"What the..."
He looked closer. Yeah, the fingers had moved. Slightly. "Malfoy... erm, MacCauley," he said, touching MacCauley's shoulder. "Erm. I think... can you sit up a bit..."
Malfoy bent forward, taking Hayford's hand in his. "He's..."
"I'm not sure he's dead," said Harry slowly.
MacCauley raised his head. "What?"
"He -- I think he's alive," said Malfoy. He felt Hayford's wrist. "I'm pretty sure I can feel a pulse here." Suddenly Hayford's body jerked, and he drew a shallow breath.
"Fuck!" said Malfoy, jolting back and dropping Hayford's wrist. "He's alive!"
"What?!"
There was mass confusion as everybody crowded around, and MacCauley sat up, wiping his eyes, staring at Hayford disbelieving as he breathed more steadily and finally opened his eyes.
"Harry," MacCauley said, drawing Hayford close again and kissing him. "God, I... what the hell happened?"
"Draco?" said Hayford, staring up at him, dazed. "What happened?"
"We've no idea," said Lupin. "You both cursed each other, but somehow you're still alive and he's gone."
Hermione frowned, then said slowly, "Hang on..." and took out her wand. "Serpensortia!" she said, and a snake flew out of the end of her wand.
"Hermione!" said Ron. "What the--"
"Can you speak to the snake?" Hermione asked urgently.
"Can I what?"
"The snake. Can you understand it?" Hermione repeated, and poked at the snake with her wand.
"Sssstop that!" hissed the snake, and Hayford gaped at it.
"No, I can't. I can't -- it's nothing but hissing. Can you understand it?" he asked Harry.
"Yeah, it's... not very happy," he said, figuring that what the snake had just called Hermione ("stupid female who lays hard-shelled eggs") wouldn't make any sense if he tried to translate it.
"Vipera Evanesca," said Snape, and the small irate snake disappeared in a flash of light.
"Which means what, exactly?" asked Ron.
"I think it means he's still alive but the part of him that died was... Voldemort," Hermione said, and gave Harry a look of apology.
Oh right. Because he still had a Voldemort-soul-nibblet in him.
"Bloody hell."
There was a brief silence, broken by Lupin. "Are we still going to do this?" he asked. "Because if so, we're going to have to hurry."
There was a collective rustle as they all shook themselves and went back into crisis-managing mode.
MacCauley wiped his reddened eyes and cleared his throat. "Right. In a few minutes, Jimmy Peakes will come and give Harry a note from Dumbledore, Harry will give Felix Felicis potion to all of you, warn you to protect the school, and leave with Dumbledore."
"Don't tell us any of that," said Ron.
"Doesn't make any difference, as you're not going to remember any of what I’m saying in a few minutes anyway," said MacCauley. "Harry -- sorry, Hayford and I will stay at the school, under Harry's Cloak. We'll stay to make sure everything goes the way Harry Three said it did. As soon as Snape and the Death Eaters are gone from the school, we'll come back here, pick up Harry Three's body, and we'll leave."
"And what'll happen in 2001?" asked Harry. "When I apparently get so fucked up I go and destroy the world?"
MacCauley shook his head. "I'll figure something out."
"That's it? That's all we're going on? Your ability to figure this out eventually?"
"I'll think of something. Maybe visit you, or send you a letter, or something."
"Draco is our best hope," said Lupin. "Trust him."
"Potter," said Malfoy quietly. "I think he's right."
Harry's gaze met Malfoy's, and it was bizarre, even after all that had happened today, to look into his eyes and not see sneering hatred or sullen hostility within them. To feel attraction towards him, and a kind of admiration, and trust, and regret, and so many conflicting emotions... none of which he was going to remember in just a few moments.
Harry squared his shoulders and faced MacCauley. "All right," he said. "Let's do this."
Hayford approached Ron, and took out his wand. "Ready mate?" he asked, and when Ron nodded, he said, "Obliviate."
"Are you ready, Harry?" asked MacCauley. Harry braced himself. "Obliv-" MacCauley began, then stopped and his eyes took on a thoughtful look. And the last thing Harry saw was MacCauley -- Draco Malfoy's -- blue eyes steady on his, as he whispered, "Deanimus."
Draco peered through the fog, trying to see the families at the station. Ugh, this was why he didn't much miss Merry Olde England. It was like trying to see through pumpkin soup.
"There they are," said Harry, and Draco turned to see the large group Harry was pointing at making their way across the platform.
There they were, indeed. Harry, his wife, and their three children, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and their sprogs, and an assortment of trunks, cages, suitcases, schoolbags...
Harry nudged him and he turned again, seeing a much smaller group making their way across the station. Astoria had certainly aged well, he thought. Somewhat better than he had himself, considering the hairline and the scraggly... thing on his younger version's chin.
He still sometimes missed the white-blond hair and pale, unfreckled skin. And he'd often wondered what it would've been like to spawn, and looking at how his younger self smiled at the white-haired child with him, his heart twinged at the thought that he'd never have that for himself. And neither would Harry.
But there were far worse lives to be lived than the ones they were currently living.
"So that's James Sirius, Albus Severus, and Lily Luna," said Draco to Harry. "I'm amazed she didn't kill him."
"Well you're the one who told him he should stop drinking, crawl back and apologize to Ginny, get married, and have lots of kids named after dead people."
"Merlin, I was joking about that last part."
"He didn't know that. And he was not in a good place when he got that letter."
No, he hadn't been. Draco remembered the stories in the Prophet, the Boy Who Lived imploding, leaving his long-suffering girlfriend, dropping out of the Aurors, arrested for public drunkenness -- as if the papers didn't have enough misery to write about in the rest of the Wizarding world at that point.
He still wondered what Harry had thought of their letter. If he had kept the Pensieve that accompanied it, full of his own and Draco's memories.
"I wonder if he ever told anyone about any of it," mused Harry. "Or if he got rid of the memories and the Pensieve, and Obliviated himself."
The younger Harry looked up at that moment, spotted the younger Draco and his family, and an odd, thoughtful look passed over his features for a moment before he turned back to his own children.
"Whether he did or not, I'm glad I was right," Draco said. "And he certainly looks happy enough," he added, hoping his tone didn't sound as wistful as he felt. "They all do. They just needed time."
There was a brief silence, and then Harry nudged him. "Oi. You were right about him. You kept an eye out for him, saw what was going on in his life, and saw that Ginny was what he needed to get through the bad time. Despite the ginger temper and the Mummy issues."
Draco shrugged.
"But I'm not him."
Draco turned to look at Harry. His Harry, the one with the warm grey eyes surrounded by laugh lines and the messy blond hair and the smile that still stole Draco's heart when it shone on him.
"You know, I can't say 'Scorpius' is any better, if we're going to be insulting our alternate version's taste in child-naming," Harry teased.
"It's traditional," said Draco.
"It's awful," said Harry.
"Well, yes, that too." Draco gazed at the family he could have had. "They look happy, though."
"Yeah. All of them do. I wonder if Astoria's actually enough to make him forget he's gay, or if he's got a dozen pool boys and she's just very understanding."
Draco smirked. "Maybe she enjoys watching him with the pool boys."
Harry chuckled, then hesitated a moment and asked, "You all right?"
"Yeah, it's just a bit odd, that's all," said Draco, and leaned back against Harry. "Seeing what's supposedly our happily ever after, only it's not ours."
"We did a good thing, you know," said Harry.
"Yeah, we did."
He glanced around the train station thoughtfully, watching the parents, the children, life carrying on all around him. It got a bit wearying sometimes, living lightly on the timeline as they did. Making sure they didn't influence anybody too much, didn't make any huge discoveries that could change the world, didn't have any effect that would outlive them. Living on a small farm on Tenerife in the Canary Islands, no children, no close friends, not even joining their local Town Beautification Council.
So different from all of this hustle and bustle, he thought, picturing their small farm. Their tidy little house, full of brooms and books and a well-loved and battered violin, white waves washing their cove, and no alcohol or any other recreational potions or herbs for seventeen years now, and counting.
"They're leaving a legacy, though," he said, gesturing at their other selves. Both men were speaking with their sons -- Harry kneeling down and earnestly saying something to a black-haired boy who looked so much like him it was eerie, and Draco giving his own little clone a warm hug and a fatherly smile the likes of which had never graced Lucius Malfoy's face. "They can... you know, influence the world..." He trailed off, unable to put adequate words to his feelings.
"We did influence the world," said Harry softly. "We bloody well saved it. That's our legacy, even if nobody but him," he nodded towards the younger Harry, now giving his son a hug, "even knows it."
Draco turned around and smiled at him. "Yeah. I suppose it is." He gave Harry a kiss. "Right, then. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go home."
- End.
PS #1: Chrononauts is real. It's a totally brilliant card game:
http://www.looneylabs.com/games/chrononauts
PS #2: There really is a song called Hermione Granger the Pirate Queen:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3p_Kewu7jc
PS #3: Malfoy Manor as a bed and breakfast is not my idea; I've just always fangirled geoviki's marvelous A Thousand Beautiful Things.
Link to Part Ia
Link to Part Ib
Link to Part IIa
Link to Part IIb
Link to Part IIc (Previous)
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Date: 2012-05-07 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-11 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-02 05:59 pm (UTC)A friend of mine introduce me to your fics (although I read Bond a long time ago) and I spent the last two months reading pretty much every D/H fic you ever wrote. I loved all of them!
So yeah, excuse the fangirling, just came to say I love your writings and I really liked this. =)