"Temporal Boundary Invasions": Chapter 1 - A Plot Foiled
Something else I revisit, is Harry's relationship with Cedric. It is my favourite pairing for Harry, although it's not mainstream, like Harry/Draco... most unfortunate. This time around, Cedric is the dominant pairing, with a few others as a supporting cast. Could a harem be in the works? You'll have to wait & see. I should also mention, if you have the "HogwartsWizard" font installed, the titles will show up in that font (although it's not necessary). That said, let's get the show on the road...
Title: Harry Potter and the Temporal Boundary Invasions
Chapter Title: 1 - A Plot Foiled
Fandoms: Harry Potter/multiple
Story Rating: PG-13
Chapter Word count: ~3,972
Warning(s): Violence, coarse language, character death, spoilers for "Deathly Hallows", "Order of the Phoenix", "Goblet of Fire".
Summary: Harry defeats Tom Riddle once and for all, but with nothing to live for, he leaps through the veil. Being thrown back in time was NOT the plan… Did the universe actually HATE him that much? The recovery of an ancient magical artefact may have the answers, and he just may gain a few powerful allies along the way... Part I: Encounters with an up-and-coming Muggle rock band.
Disclaimer: See first chapter
“...a long-hidden power once again becomes known, and the four from the one will have the power to vanquish the great threat... lead by the one who thrice vanquished the dark lord...” - Prophecy spoken by 8-year old Sarah Gilman, July 1995.
1: A PLOT FOILED
OR, THE END IS THE BEGINNING
"Avada kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
It sounded like a cannon blast as the green jet from the Elder Wand collided with Harry's spell, and an instant later, a very haggard Harry Potter looked down on the empty shell that had been the worst dark wizard in recent history.
He slumped down on the steps rising up to the dais upon which the veil still fluttered freely, the voices whispering from behind it. Somewhere in there, in amongst all those voices, was Sirius. 'Mum, dad, I did it,' he whispered, rising to his shaky feet.
There was nothing left to live for. The gaping hole in the ceiling of the death chamber said it all. Magical Britain had been for the most part obliterated, the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy breached beyond recovery. The Muggle world had suffered far greater atrocities at the hand of Voldemort. Shouts from above and out in the ruined corridor warned the Boy-Who-Lived-now very much a man, he had little time left.
He had been on the run for several years, as the patch-work Wizarding government had declared him the number one undesirable. Through their lies and manipulations, the Muggle government saw him equally as a serious threat, resulting in numerous close calls with British authorities. He remembered hearing one particular news cast, warning citizens Do not approach, considered armed and dangerous, to contact authorities at once… what rubbish!
He was drawn back to the present, as the shouts became quite clear: "HARRY POTTER… DROP THE WAND AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"
'Not on your life,' Harry cursed to himself, as he approached the fluttering veil. 'Mum, dad, Sirius, I'm coming,' he whispered, his hand almost touching the ratty fabric suspended in the arch way. The voices were speaking loudly now, although it was hard to decipher exactly what was being said, due to the number.
"HARRY POTTER. STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" came another shout, this time, from the entrance to the death chamber.
"Not on your life," said Harry, coldly, and stepped into the fluttering veil to fade from the mortal plane.
Harry was unsure of what to expect stepping into the veil, but, it felt like a port key. 'Wait… what am I holding?' he thought, and dared open his eyes. 'Merlin's Balls!' Tightly in his grip was the Tri-Wizard Cup! That meant…
He was suddenly slammed into the ground, and an uncomfortable moan beside him was all the confirmation he needed.
"Did anyone tell you it was a port key?"
"What? Err, no," answered Harry, daring to look at the speaker. He had to force himself to remain composed, as green eyes locked with grey ones. "Wands out," he declared, fishing his holly wand out. He'd missed that wand. 'That foul Umbridge woman…' Cedric had already drawn his own, and both teens got to their feet cautiously. Then Harry's memories took firm hold.
"Cedric, take my arm," said Harry, trusting his instinct, "The port key was a trap!"
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me… listen, someone's coming, he'll KILL you!"
"All right, I trust you," answered Cedric, gripping Harry's arm, just as a dark shape emerged from one of the tombs. "Kill the spare," came the high, cold voice, as Harry twisted on the spot, his scar already exploding in pain. Both Tri-Wizard champions vanished with an angry CRACK which sent a flock of crows on a nearby tree flapping into the night. A bolt of green magic passed through the spot Cedric had been standing in a fraction of a second earlier, to slam into a headstone.
"NOOOO!" came a shout to the night, which fell on deaf ears.
The two teens appeared at gates of the school, the closest either of them could get to Hogwarts by apparition. His scar was still tingling, and he quickly looked himself over to be sure he hadn't splinched himself-of course, it had been a number of years since that had been a concern. How had this happened? Why did he not just… pass on?
"Harry… you just…" Cedric began, bewildered. It pulled Harry rapidly back to the present.
"I know, I know… just, trust me, terrible things would have happened, had we stayed. If anyone asks-you know how to apparate?"
"Of course, although I have yet to actually get my license."
"If anyone asks, you apparated us back to the school… I'd rather people not know I can do so."
"Okay, Harry, but you owe me an explanation of what's going on."
"I promise you, Ced. Best we get back to the Quidditch pitch, let people know what's going on. And Cedric. Stay away from Moody, he's not who we think he is-AAAAAAAAH!!!" Harry's scar again flared in white-hot pain. Voldemort was beyond angry.
Harry and Cedric quickly made their way back to the Quidditch pitch, where the crowds were still gathered, waiting for the champions to return. It was a shock to everyone, as the two teens entered through the back entrance.
"Harry! How did you come to be there?" questioned Dumbledore.
"Sir, the Tri-Wizard cup was a trap, a port key. Cedric… he was almost killed… he grabbed me and-"
"Apparated us as close to the school as I could get," answered the older champion, covering for Harry.
"Professor, Voldemort tried to get his body back tonight… the entire tournament was a trap!" Harry exclaimed, fighting urges to spill more than he should know. There was a sharp intake of breath as several people close to him heard the Dark Lord's name. Cedric's father was already whispering softly to his son, while Dumbledore was eyeing Harry carefully. What had happened?
"The boys have been through an ordeal, allow me to take them back up to the castle, have them looked over by Madam Pomfrey perhaps," offered Professor Moody. He found himself staring at the business end of Harry's wand.
"You'll do well not to come within a hundred miles of me, Crouch!" Harry hissed. He'd almost slipped into speaking parselmouth. A look of shock crossed the professor's face for a fraction of a second, before he recovered. "The boy's obviously delirious," he declared.
"Prove you're not Crouch!" Harry hissed again, his hand wrapped so tightly around his wand his knuckles were turning white. "Swear to it! Swear it on your magic, here and now!"
"There's no need for that kind of behaviour toward a professor, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, standing behind the group.
"Trust me, he's no professor," Harry ground out, "Now swear it!"
"Perhaps it would be best to entertain the brat," Snape drawled. Crouch knew he was in trouble. How had the brat discovered his secret? His wand was out in a flash. 'Perhaps if I kidnap the brat-' he had no chance to finish the thought, as he was nailed with at least three stunning curses.
"I daresay, perhaps we should adjourn this to my office," said Dumbledore. It wasn't a request. "Severus, please fetch me the strongest truth serum you have, and join me in my office."(1)
The resultant meeting was truly an eye-opener, more for the staff than Harry. It was an eerie feeling, watching 'Moody' transform back into Barty Crouch, Jr. As soon as the transformation was finished, Severus forced Crouch's mouth open, administered three drops of Veritaserum, and the group waited for it to take effect. Dumbledore finally pointed his wand at the impostor. "Ennervate!"
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused.
Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.
"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The man's eyelids flickered. "Yes," he muttered.
"Where is Alastor Moody?"
"In his trunk in my office."
The questioning continued while Professor McGonagall went to Moody's office, to free the real Alastor Moody. Harry was at war with himself mentally, so not to reveal too much of what he knew. How was it possible, that he had come back to this time with all his knowledge and memories intact? A twenty-six year old mind in a fourteen-going-on-fifteen-year-old body? 'Bloody hell, I'm gonna go spare!'
A more interesting revelation came when Crouch was questioned regarding the meeting at the beginning of the year.
"Yes, Pettigrew was there," answered Crouch, when asked about whether a certain rat had been present. Further questions revealed the true miscarriage of justice.
"That… that means… oh dear Merlin…" Fudge was astounded at the revelation.
"Yes, Minister, an innocent man was sent to rot in Azkaban for twelve fucking years," Harry spat.
"Mr. Potter! You will NOT use such language!" McGonagall scolded harshly.
"S-sorry. But I have to ask the Minister, what he intends to do about it."
"And what stake might you have in Mr. Black's case, Potter?" questioned Fudge, sourly. 'If this hits the Prophet, heads will roll,' he thought, 'probably starting with mine.'
"Maybe the tiny little fact he's my godfather," Harry shot back, "What, did you think I wouldn't know that? There are some people around here that make an attempt at being honest with me. I'll spell it out so there can't be any misunderstanding. I have a job to do. Either help me to do it, or stay out of my way. That means, no secrets. No manipulations. No tricks."
"What are you implying, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore, uneasily. 'It's too soon,' he thought, 'The boy cannot know the secret just yet!'
"I think you know, sir. I asked you at the end of first year, in the hospital wing. Why did Voldemort want to kill me? So now I'm asking again. I have a RIGHT to know what I'm fighting."
"Harry, I do agree with you, however, at this very moment is not quite the time for that kind of discussion. If you will give me a few days. I promise you we shall meet again before the end of term, so you may get answers to some of your questions."
"I will hold you to it, sir."
"For now, let's get you down for a check up with Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall decided, "Since it appears we have gained all the information we will from Mr. Crouch." Harry nodded, and made his way to the door. He was about to open it, but stopped. "Oh, and by the way, Minister," Harry spoke, taking his hand off the door handle, "You might want to keep the Dementors away from Barty here, I would like to see him get a proper trial." His unspoken warning carried strongly in his voice.
The Hospital wing was still slightly busy, with the other three champions still in beds, being looked after by the resident healer. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were crowded around their son's bed, looking more than relieved Cedric was okay. 'That was an understatement,' he thought to himself. He realized then an there, it was one of the things that truly broke him-that, and the death of Sirius, with the death of Dumbledore a close third. The thing was, 'what now?' Everything he knew of the previous timeline… quite possibly went completely out the window. Voldemort had not been able to regain a body. Cedric was still alive. Most importantly, Fudge knew of Pettigrew's treachery.
"I was wondering when to expect you, Harry," said Madam Pomfrey, "You may take that bed." She pointed to a bed between Cedric's and the real Alastor Moody.
"Will… will he be okay?" questioned Harry, gesturing to the sleeping man.
"He'll be just fine," answered the matron, handing him a pair of pyjamas, and pulling the screen around the bed. Just then, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and voices burst into the room.
"Harry?!" 'Of course, Hermione,' Harry thought to himself. He had sorely missed her for the past few years; she was one of the first of his close friends to be taken by Voldemort. Her body had never been found.
"Over here, guys," Harry called.
A crowd of bodies made their way around the curtain. Most of the Weasleys were there, as was Hermione, and a large black dog. He wasted no time leaping up onto the bed, looking at Harry expectantly. Seeing the faces of his dear friends, and those he considered family brought a broad smile to his face. In fact, thinking of the current situation, for a fleeting moment, he felt like the cat who had caught the canary.
The early hours of the next morning, Harry felt someone settle down beside him in the bed; he didn't need to wonder who it was, as an arm snaked across his torso. He let out a sigh, and did not wake again until the light was streaming through the windows.
While Harry slept, Albus Dumbledore was still wide awake, sitting in his office, having viewed the memory of the evening's event at least three times in the pensieve. Something had changed in Harry, something profound. Something which had nothing to do with the unscheduled port key trip to Little Hangleton-he had sent some of his most trusted friends to investigate-no, something had changed Harry. It would be imperative to have that discussion sooner rather than later, Dumbledore decided. Fawkes, the bright red phoenix resting on his perch seemed to agree, letting out a pleasant trill. "Yes, I know, we must have his trust, Fawkes. What he wants to know is something I had really hoped I could hold off for perhaps one more year."
"You'll do no good keeping the boy in the dark forever, Albus," the portrait of Armando Dippet scolded, "You're handling young Potter in a similar way to that of Riddle; surely one Dark Lord is enough."
"Harry will never turn to the dark arts," said Dumbledore, with conviction, "His capacity to love would never allow it." He collected the memory floating in the pensieve back into a vial, then dumped the contents of yet another. The memory which he was most reluctant to show Harry. It was the one thing that set everything into motion. Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in, Minerva," said Albus. The door opened, revealing the deputy headmistress. "It seems I am not the only one up in the wee hours of the morning."
"Indeed, Albus. I've just come from the hospital wing. The Diggory boy wasted no time deserting his own bed to share Potter's."
"Is that so?" questioned Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling again. Of course he knew all about the two champions' numerous rendezvous after hours. He was the headmaster after all.
"It would have been a true disaster, had one of them been killed," McGonagall declared, "I don't need to spell it out, do I?"
"No, of course not. It's only by Mr. Diggory's quick reaction they escaped. I do believe there will be a few adjustments to house points in light of last night's events, yes."
"Oh, Albus, I don't think we should be worrying about house points and the like, considering the dark implications. How could you not have known one of your most trusted friends was in fact a Death Eater?"
"It's something I have trouble answering, Minerva. And, it's something that will not happen again. Perhaps I need to revise a few procedures for the staff, in light of this error on my part."
"It's best you do. I really do not wish to take on your responsibilities full-time. I do have one question. Did you notice the change in Harry's behaviour?"
"Somewhat. He seems to have suddenly developed a bit of an edge. I was quite taken aback hearing him use such awful language earlier, in front of the Minister, no less. What are your thoughts on this?"
"I'm still puzzled as to what might have brought it on. I've not known Harry to take that sort of tone, at least not against one of us. In hindsight, he was right, but-"
"How did he know it wasn't Moody?" McGonagall finished.
"I ask the same question. Perhaps when I meet with him, I will be sure to ask. Information, after all, is a two way street, is it not? Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, gesturing to the candy dish resting on the corner of the desk, from which he plucked a candy.
When Harry next woke, a smile crept onto his face. Not only was Sirius curled up at the foot of the bed as Padfoot, his Animagus form, Cedric had climbed into his bed as well, and now lay beside Harry, an arm draped across his chest as though to protect the younger boy. 'Younger boy?' Harry almost snorted, 'Bloody hell, how did this happen?' he thought to himself. What would Hermione say? What would Dumbledore think? 'No,' Harry thought, 'There are a good number of people who can't ever know what's happened.' Yet, how was he going to explain the previous night's actions to Cedric? Yes, it was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. 'Then again,' thought Harry, 'If I can't trust Cedric, who CAN I trust?' He dug into his recent memories, quickly sorting out the events of the previous evening-he would have done so much sooner, had Madam Pomfrey not dosed him with a strong dreamless sleep potion.
It had taken him several years to fully grasp Occlumency and its reciprocal, Legilimency. Sure, the art was heavily-restricted by the Ministry, but that had never stopped Harry before, considering that, beginning the middle of what would have been his fifth year, he became a fugitive. The Ministry pursued him relentlessly, and far worse once Voldemort took over. He knew more than a few dark curses, each one of them would make his friends or the Order cringe.
Harry was woken up by someone gently prodding at his ribs. "Harry, mate…"
"Mmmm?" He moaned, then smiled as Cedric's face filled his vision.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better, now," answered Harry.
"Can we talk?"
"Now's as good a time as any." Harry gestured with his hand. At Cedric's curious glance, he said, "Privacy charm."
"Wandless?"
"Uh huh. One of a few things I can do now. Cedric, something happened to me, last night… when we were port keyed out of the maze."
"So I noticed."
"I need a wizard's oath that you won't reveal what I'm about to tell you to anyone." He nudged the large black dog at his feet. "You too, Padfoot… I know you're listening." The dog seemed to make a sigh, hopped off the bed, and transformed back into Sirius. "What…"
"The oath first, please, both of you."
"All right," his godfather nodded, producing his wand. "I, Sirius Orion Black, swear on my magic, that I shall not reveal any of the following conversation to anyone for any reason." A swirl of golden magic wafted from Sirius' chest, to hover over Harry's head.
"So mote it be."
Once Cedric gave his oath, Harry gave an abbreviated and highly edited account of the future, earning more than a few shocked looks from his boyfriend and his godfather. He hated to admit it, but it just wouldn't be safe telling Ron or Hermione, at least not at this point. As loyal as they were, as the old saying goes, 'loose lips sink ships'. Even though he could get a magical oath from them, the fewer people who knew, the better.
Just then, he felt the ward he had erected around the screen vibrate-someone had just entered the hospital wing. With a quick gesture from his hand, he banished the privacy charm and the ward. "Mischief managed," he whispered.
"What was that for?"
"It ends the conversation covered by your oaths," answered Harry. Moments later, the screen parted and Madam Pomfrey appeared. Sirius had once again changed into Padfoot, but Harry could swear the dog was grinning at the use of the Marauders' secret code. The matron pursed her lips at the sight of the two boys cuddled in one bed.
"I should have known I would find the both of you in one bed. Up you get, the both of you. I don't believe I need to keep either of you here any longer," she declared, gesturing at both teens with her wand. She nodded, then left the screen.
The ride back to London was much better than the first time around, as Cedric now sat in the compartment with Harry and his two closest friends. A sack of coins rested between them, but a decision had already been made on what to do with it. Harry had wanted to put a strong locking charm on the door, but that would prevent the twins from visiting. No, he would allow Malfoy and his cronies to visit as well-not that he would have any issues handling him.
When the train at last arrived at King's Cross, Harry and Cedric pulled the twins aside.
"Guys… we want you to have this," said Harry, thrusting the sack of coins into George's hand.
"Err…" Fred was stunned, as was his brother.
"We think you will get much better use out of it than we will," said Cedric.
"Mental," said George.
"Both of them," Fred added.
"Guys, no, we're not… it's just… look, the entire tournament's left a bad taste in both our mouths-for different reasons, but… just take it… get inventing. Use it for the joke shop."
"Yup, definitely mental," said Fred.
"Look, guys, we're serious," said Cedric, "If you don't take it, Harry's gonna dump it down the drain."
"You wouldn't!"
"The nerve!"
"And get Ron some better dress robes," said Harry, "And whatever you do, don't tell your mum where you got it… I might like to live to see adulthood."
Stepping through the barrier, Harry found uncle Vernon waiting as had been the case the first time around, Mrs. Weasley waiting close by. "I think Dumbledore will let you come visit later in the summer. Do keep in touch, Harry."
"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.
"Bye, Harry, be sure to write me, okay?" said Hermione. Unlike the first time around, there was no kiss on the cheek.
"Harry… Cedric, thanks," said George, quietly, while Fred grinned madly at his side. Harry winked at them, then turned to face Cedric, while the Weasleys headed off as a group.
"I'll come see you in a few days, Harry."
"I'll not… there won't-" Vernon sputtered, but Harry glared at him. "WE will be having a conversation when we get back to Surry," said Harry, icily, then turned back to Cedric. "That will be great!" After a strong embrace and a kiss on the forehead, Cedric too, went his own way, leaving Harry standing with his uncle.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Things move pretty quickly here, as Harry realizes the opportunity he's been given (although if given the choice he would have gone on to be with his parents, Sirius, and the number of friends he lost). He's wasted no time, preventing Cedric's death, and equally importantly, the rebirth of Voldemort. Those are some significant changes, all in the matter of a couple hours. Thing is, the butterfly effect will kick in pretty quickly, will it not?
(1) Taken from GoF, verbatim text.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: PROLOGUE
NEXT CHAPTER: 2 - LAYING A NEW FOUNDATION
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title: Harry Potter and the Temporal Boundary Invasions
Chapter Title: 1 - A Plot Foiled
Fandoms: Harry Potter/multiple
Story Rating: PG-13
Chapter Word count: ~3,972
Warning(s): Violence, coarse language, character death, spoilers for "Deathly Hallows", "Order of the Phoenix", "Goblet of Fire".
Summary: Harry defeats Tom Riddle once and for all, but with nothing to live for, he leaps through the veil. Being thrown back in time was NOT the plan… Did the universe actually HATE him that much? The recovery of an ancient magical artefact may have the answers, and he just may gain a few powerful allies along the way... Part I: Encounters with an up-and-coming Muggle rock band.
Disclaimer: See first chapter
“...a long-hidden power once again becomes known, and the four from the one will have the power to vanquish the great threat... lead by the one who thrice vanquished the dark lord...” - Prophecy spoken by 8-year old Sarah Gilman, July 1995.
1: A PLOT FOILED
OR, THE END IS THE BEGINNING
"Avada kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
It sounded like a cannon blast as the green jet from the Elder Wand collided with Harry's spell, and an instant later, a very haggard Harry Potter looked down on the empty shell that had been the worst dark wizard in recent history.
He slumped down on the steps rising up to the dais upon which the veil still fluttered freely, the voices whispering from behind it. Somewhere in there, in amongst all those voices, was Sirius. 'Mum, dad, I did it,' he whispered, rising to his shaky feet.
There was nothing left to live for. The gaping hole in the ceiling of the death chamber said it all. Magical Britain had been for the most part obliterated, the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy breached beyond recovery. The Muggle world had suffered far greater atrocities at the hand of Voldemort. Shouts from above and out in the ruined corridor warned the Boy-Who-Lived-now very much a man, he had little time left.
He had been on the run for several years, as the patch-work Wizarding government had declared him the number one undesirable. Through their lies and manipulations, the Muggle government saw him equally as a serious threat, resulting in numerous close calls with British authorities. He remembered hearing one particular news cast, warning citizens Do not approach, considered armed and dangerous, to contact authorities at once… what rubbish!
He was drawn back to the present, as the shouts became quite clear: "HARRY POTTER… DROP THE WAND AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"
'Not on your life,' Harry cursed to himself, as he approached the fluttering veil. 'Mum, dad, Sirius, I'm coming,' he whispered, his hand almost touching the ratty fabric suspended in the arch way. The voices were speaking loudly now, although it was hard to decipher exactly what was being said, due to the number.
"HARRY POTTER. STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" came another shout, this time, from the entrance to the death chamber.
"Not on your life," said Harry, coldly, and stepped into the fluttering veil to fade from the mortal plane.
Harry was unsure of what to expect stepping into the veil, but, it felt like a port key. 'Wait… what am I holding?' he thought, and dared open his eyes. 'Merlin's Balls!' Tightly in his grip was the Tri-Wizard Cup! That meant…
He was suddenly slammed into the ground, and an uncomfortable moan beside him was all the confirmation he needed.
"Did anyone tell you it was a port key?"
"What? Err, no," answered Harry, daring to look at the speaker. He had to force himself to remain composed, as green eyes locked with grey ones. "Wands out," he declared, fishing his holly wand out. He'd missed that wand. 'That foul Umbridge woman…' Cedric had already drawn his own, and both teens got to their feet cautiously. Then Harry's memories took firm hold.
"Cedric, take my arm," said Harry, trusting his instinct, "The port key was a trap!"
"How do you know?"
"Just trust me… listen, someone's coming, he'll KILL you!"
"All right, I trust you," answered Cedric, gripping Harry's arm, just as a dark shape emerged from one of the tombs. "Kill the spare," came the high, cold voice, as Harry twisted on the spot, his scar already exploding in pain. Both Tri-Wizard champions vanished with an angry CRACK which sent a flock of crows on a nearby tree flapping into the night. A bolt of green magic passed through the spot Cedric had been standing in a fraction of a second earlier, to slam into a headstone.
"NOOOO!" came a shout to the night, which fell on deaf ears.
The two teens appeared at gates of the school, the closest either of them could get to Hogwarts by apparition. His scar was still tingling, and he quickly looked himself over to be sure he hadn't splinched himself-of course, it had been a number of years since that had been a concern. How had this happened? Why did he not just… pass on?
"Harry… you just…" Cedric began, bewildered. It pulled Harry rapidly back to the present.
"I know, I know… just, trust me, terrible things would have happened, had we stayed. If anyone asks-you know how to apparate?"
"Of course, although I have yet to actually get my license."
"If anyone asks, you apparated us back to the school… I'd rather people not know I can do so."
"Okay, Harry, but you owe me an explanation of what's going on."
"I promise you, Ced. Best we get back to the Quidditch pitch, let people know what's going on. And Cedric. Stay away from Moody, he's not who we think he is-AAAAAAAAH!!!" Harry's scar again flared in white-hot pain. Voldemort was beyond angry.
Harry and Cedric quickly made their way back to the Quidditch pitch, where the crowds were still gathered, waiting for the champions to return. It was a shock to everyone, as the two teens entered through the back entrance.
"Harry! How did you come to be there?" questioned Dumbledore.
"Sir, the Tri-Wizard cup was a trap, a port key. Cedric… he was almost killed… he grabbed me and-"
"Apparated us as close to the school as I could get," answered the older champion, covering for Harry.
"Professor, Voldemort tried to get his body back tonight… the entire tournament was a trap!" Harry exclaimed, fighting urges to spill more than he should know. There was a sharp intake of breath as several people close to him heard the Dark Lord's name. Cedric's father was already whispering softly to his son, while Dumbledore was eyeing Harry carefully. What had happened?
"The boys have been through an ordeal, allow me to take them back up to the castle, have them looked over by Madam Pomfrey perhaps," offered Professor Moody. He found himself staring at the business end of Harry's wand.
"You'll do well not to come within a hundred miles of me, Crouch!" Harry hissed. He'd almost slipped into speaking parselmouth. A look of shock crossed the professor's face for a fraction of a second, before he recovered. "The boy's obviously delirious," he declared.
"Prove you're not Crouch!" Harry hissed again, his hand wrapped so tightly around his wand his knuckles were turning white. "Swear to it! Swear it on your magic, here and now!"
"There's no need for that kind of behaviour toward a professor, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, standing behind the group.
"Trust me, he's no professor," Harry ground out, "Now swear it!"
"Perhaps it would be best to entertain the brat," Snape drawled. Crouch knew he was in trouble. How had the brat discovered his secret? His wand was out in a flash. 'Perhaps if I kidnap the brat-' he had no chance to finish the thought, as he was nailed with at least three stunning curses.
"I daresay, perhaps we should adjourn this to my office," said Dumbledore. It wasn't a request. "Severus, please fetch me the strongest truth serum you have, and join me in my office."(1)
The resultant meeting was truly an eye-opener, more for the staff than Harry. It was an eerie feeling, watching 'Moody' transform back into Barty Crouch, Jr. As soon as the transformation was finished, Severus forced Crouch's mouth open, administered three drops of Veritaserum, and the group waited for it to take effect. Dumbledore finally pointed his wand at the impostor. "Ennervate!"
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused.
Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.
"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly. The man's eyelids flickered. "Yes," he muttered.
"Where is Alastor Moody?"
"In his trunk in my office."
The questioning continued while Professor McGonagall went to Moody's office, to free the real Alastor Moody. Harry was at war with himself mentally, so not to reveal too much of what he knew. How was it possible, that he had come back to this time with all his knowledge and memories intact? A twenty-six year old mind in a fourteen-going-on-fifteen-year-old body? 'Bloody hell, I'm gonna go spare!'
A more interesting revelation came when Crouch was questioned regarding the meeting at the beginning of the year.
"Yes, Pettigrew was there," answered Crouch, when asked about whether a certain rat had been present. Further questions revealed the true miscarriage of justice.
"That… that means… oh dear Merlin…" Fudge was astounded at the revelation.
"Yes, Minister, an innocent man was sent to rot in Azkaban for twelve fucking years," Harry spat.
"Mr. Potter! You will NOT use such language!" McGonagall scolded harshly.
"S-sorry. But I have to ask the Minister, what he intends to do about it."
"And what stake might you have in Mr. Black's case, Potter?" questioned Fudge, sourly. 'If this hits the Prophet, heads will roll,' he thought, 'probably starting with mine.'
"Maybe the tiny little fact he's my godfather," Harry shot back, "What, did you think I wouldn't know that? There are some people around here that make an attempt at being honest with me. I'll spell it out so there can't be any misunderstanding. I have a job to do. Either help me to do it, or stay out of my way. That means, no secrets. No manipulations. No tricks."
"What are you implying, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore, uneasily. 'It's too soon,' he thought, 'The boy cannot know the secret just yet!'
"I think you know, sir. I asked you at the end of first year, in the hospital wing. Why did Voldemort want to kill me? So now I'm asking again. I have a RIGHT to know what I'm fighting."
"Harry, I do agree with you, however, at this very moment is not quite the time for that kind of discussion. If you will give me a few days. I promise you we shall meet again before the end of term, so you may get answers to some of your questions."
"I will hold you to it, sir."
"For now, let's get you down for a check up with Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall decided, "Since it appears we have gained all the information we will from Mr. Crouch." Harry nodded, and made his way to the door. He was about to open it, but stopped. "Oh, and by the way, Minister," Harry spoke, taking his hand off the door handle, "You might want to keep the Dementors away from Barty here, I would like to see him get a proper trial." His unspoken warning carried strongly in his voice.
The Hospital wing was still slightly busy, with the other three champions still in beds, being looked after by the resident healer. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were crowded around their son's bed, looking more than relieved Cedric was okay. 'That was an understatement,' he thought to himself. He realized then an there, it was one of the things that truly broke him-that, and the death of Sirius, with the death of Dumbledore a close third. The thing was, 'what now?' Everything he knew of the previous timeline… quite possibly went completely out the window. Voldemort had not been able to regain a body. Cedric was still alive. Most importantly, Fudge knew of Pettigrew's treachery.
"I was wondering when to expect you, Harry," said Madam Pomfrey, "You may take that bed." She pointed to a bed between Cedric's and the real Alastor Moody.
"Will… will he be okay?" questioned Harry, gesturing to the sleeping man.
"He'll be just fine," answered the matron, handing him a pair of pyjamas, and pulling the screen around the bed. Just then, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and voices burst into the room.
"Harry?!" 'Of course, Hermione,' Harry thought to himself. He had sorely missed her for the past few years; she was one of the first of his close friends to be taken by Voldemort. Her body had never been found.
"Over here, guys," Harry called.
A crowd of bodies made their way around the curtain. Most of the Weasleys were there, as was Hermione, and a large black dog. He wasted no time leaping up onto the bed, looking at Harry expectantly. Seeing the faces of his dear friends, and those he considered family brought a broad smile to his face. In fact, thinking of the current situation, for a fleeting moment, he felt like the cat who had caught the canary.
The early hours of the next morning, Harry felt someone settle down beside him in the bed; he didn't need to wonder who it was, as an arm snaked across his torso. He let out a sigh, and did not wake again until the light was streaming through the windows.
While Harry slept, Albus Dumbledore was still wide awake, sitting in his office, having viewed the memory of the evening's event at least three times in the pensieve. Something had changed in Harry, something profound. Something which had nothing to do with the unscheduled port key trip to Little Hangleton-he had sent some of his most trusted friends to investigate-no, something had changed Harry. It would be imperative to have that discussion sooner rather than later, Dumbledore decided. Fawkes, the bright red phoenix resting on his perch seemed to agree, letting out a pleasant trill. "Yes, I know, we must have his trust, Fawkes. What he wants to know is something I had really hoped I could hold off for perhaps one more year."
"You'll do no good keeping the boy in the dark forever, Albus," the portrait of Armando Dippet scolded, "You're handling young Potter in a similar way to that of Riddle; surely one Dark Lord is enough."
"Harry will never turn to the dark arts," said Dumbledore, with conviction, "His capacity to love would never allow it." He collected the memory floating in the pensieve back into a vial, then dumped the contents of yet another. The memory which he was most reluctant to show Harry. It was the one thing that set everything into motion. Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in, Minerva," said Albus. The door opened, revealing the deputy headmistress. "It seems I am not the only one up in the wee hours of the morning."
"Indeed, Albus. I've just come from the hospital wing. The Diggory boy wasted no time deserting his own bed to share Potter's."
"Is that so?" questioned Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling again. Of course he knew all about the two champions' numerous rendezvous after hours. He was the headmaster after all.
"It would have been a true disaster, had one of them been killed," McGonagall declared, "I don't need to spell it out, do I?"
"No, of course not. It's only by Mr. Diggory's quick reaction they escaped. I do believe there will be a few adjustments to house points in light of last night's events, yes."
"Oh, Albus, I don't think we should be worrying about house points and the like, considering the dark implications. How could you not have known one of your most trusted friends was in fact a Death Eater?"
"It's something I have trouble answering, Minerva. And, it's something that will not happen again. Perhaps I need to revise a few procedures for the staff, in light of this error on my part."
"It's best you do. I really do not wish to take on your responsibilities full-time. I do have one question. Did you notice the change in Harry's behaviour?"
"Somewhat. He seems to have suddenly developed a bit of an edge. I was quite taken aback hearing him use such awful language earlier, in front of the Minister, no less. What are your thoughts on this?"
"I'm still puzzled as to what might have brought it on. I've not known Harry to take that sort of tone, at least not against one of us. In hindsight, he was right, but-"
"How did he know it wasn't Moody?" McGonagall finished.
"I ask the same question. Perhaps when I meet with him, I will be sure to ask. Information, after all, is a two way street, is it not? Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, gesturing to the candy dish resting on the corner of the desk, from which he plucked a candy.
When Harry next woke, a smile crept onto his face. Not only was Sirius curled up at the foot of the bed as Padfoot, his Animagus form, Cedric had climbed into his bed as well, and now lay beside Harry, an arm draped across his chest as though to protect the younger boy. 'Younger boy?' Harry almost snorted, 'Bloody hell, how did this happen?' he thought to himself. What would Hermione say? What would Dumbledore think? 'No,' Harry thought, 'There are a good number of people who can't ever know what's happened.' Yet, how was he going to explain the previous night's actions to Cedric? Yes, it was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. 'Then again,' thought Harry, 'If I can't trust Cedric, who CAN I trust?' He dug into his recent memories, quickly sorting out the events of the previous evening-he would have done so much sooner, had Madam Pomfrey not dosed him with a strong dreamless sleep potion.
It had taken him several years to fully grasp Occlumency and its reciprocal, Legilimency. Sure, the art was heavily-restricted by the Ministry, but that had never stopped Harry before, considering that, beginning the middle of what would have been his fifth year, he became a fugitive. The Ministry pursued him relentlessly, and far worse once Voldemort took over. He knew more than a few dark curses, each one of them would make his friends or the Order cringe.
Harry was woken up by someone gently prodding at his ribs. "Harry, mate…"
"Mmmm?" He moaned, then smiled as Cedric's face filled his vision.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better, now," answered Harry.
"Can we talk?"
"Now's as good a time as any." Harry gestured with his hand. At Cedric's curious glance, he said, "Privacy charm."
"Wandless?"
"Uh huh. One of a few things I can do now. Cedric, something happened to me, last night… when we were port keyed out of the maze."
"So I noticed."
"I need a wizard's oath that you won't reveal what I'm about to tell you to anyone." He nudged the large black dog at his feet. "You too, Padfoot… I know you're listening." The dog seemed to make a sigh, hopped off the bed, and transformed back into Sirius. "What…"
"The oath first, please, both of you."
"All right," his godfather nodded, producing his wand. "I, Sirius Orion Black, swear on my magic, that I shall not reveal any of the following conversation to anyone for any reason." A swirl of golden magic wafted from Sirius' chest, to hover over Harry's head.
"So mote it be."
Once Cedric gave his oath, Harry gave an abbreviated and highly edited account of the future, earning more than a few shocked looks from his boyfriend and his godfather. He hated to admit it, but it just wouldn't be safe telling Ron or Hermione, at least not at this point. As loyal as they were, as the old saying goes, 'loose lips sink ships'. Even though he could get a magical oath from them, the fewer people who knew, the better.
Just then, he felt the ward he had erected around the screen vibrate-someone had just entered the hospital wing. With a quick gesture from his hand, he banished the privacy charm and the ward. "Mischief managed," he whispered.
"What was that for?"
"It ends the conversation covered by your oaths," answered Harry. Moments later, the screen parted and Madam Pomfrey appeared. Sirius had once again changed into Padfoot, but Harry could swear the dog was grinning at the use of the Marauders' secret code. The matron pursed her lips at the sight of the two boys cuddled in one bed.
"I should have known I would find the both of you in one bed. Up you get, the both of you. I don't believe I need to keep either of you here any longer," she declared, gesturing at both teens with her wand. She nodded, then left the screen.
The ride back to London was much better than the first time around, as Cedric now sat in the compartment with Harry and his two closest friends. A sack of coins rested between them, but a decision had already been made on what to do with it. Harry had wanted to put a strong locking charm on the door, but that would prevent the twins from visiting. No, he would allow Malfoy and his cronies to visit as well-not that he would have any issues handling him.
When the train at last arrived at King's Cross, Harry and Cedric pulled the twins aside.
"Guys… we want you to have this," said Harry, thrusting the sack of coins into George's hand.
"Err…" Fred was stunned, as was his brother.
"We think you will get much better use out of it than we will," said Cedric.
"Mental," said George.
"Both of them," Fred added.
"Guys, no, we're not… it's just… look, the entire tournament's left a bad taste in both our mouths-for different reasons, but… just take it… get inventing. Use it for the joke shop."
"Yup, definitely mental," said Fred.
"Look, guys, we're serious," said Cedric, "If you don't take it, Harry's gonna dump it down the drain."
"You wouldn't!"
"The nerve!"
"And get Ron some better dress robes," said Harry, "And whatever you do, don't tell your mum where you got it… I might like to live to see adulthood."
Stepping through the barrier, Harry found uncle Vernon waiting as had been the case the first time around, Mrs. Weasley waiting close by. "I think Dumbledore will let you come visit later in the summer. Do keep in touch, Harry."
"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.
"Bye, Harry, be sure to write me, okay?" said Hermione. Unlike the first time around, there was no kiss on the cheek.
"Harry… Cedric, thanks," said George, quietly, while Fred grinned madly at his side. Harry winked at them, then turned to face Cedric, while the Weasleys headed off as a group.
"I'll come see you in a few days, Harry."
"I'll not… there won't-" Vernon sputtered, but Harry glared at him. "WE will be having a conversation when we get back to Surry," said Harry, icily, then turned back to Cedric. "That will be great!" After a strong embrace and a kiss on the forehead, Cedric too, went his own way, leaving Harry standing with his uncle.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Things move pretty quickly here, as Harry realizes the opportunity he's been given (although if given the choice he would have gone on to be with his parents, Sirius, and the number of friends he lost). He's wasted no time, preventing Cedric's death, and equally importantly, the rebirth of Voldemort. Those are some significant changes, all in the matter of a couple hours. Thing is, the butterfly effect will kick in pretty quickly, will it not?
(1) Taken from GoF, verbatim text.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: PROLOGUE
NEXT CHAPTER: 2 - LAYING A NEW FOUNDATION
TABLE OF CONTENTS