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Time War | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Drama Warnings: Intimate Sexual Situations, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use Rating: R Reviews: 15 Summary: REPUBLISHED 5/2014 The final story in the Continuum/Ranimer/Growing Up with Mum and Dad arc. Can the Marauders and their children stop time from spiraling out of control or unleashing a fate worse than Voldemort in time? Please read the previous stories first so the time-travel aspects make sense. Hitcount: Story Total: 64702; Chapter Total: 2421 |
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Chapter 2: Blackbird 15 December 1977 Anwen was sitting on James’s bed, she at the foot, he at the head. Between them was laid out a Gryffindor Quidditch Cape which she would expertly change over to several yards of grey wool cloth, and then switch back. While only thirteen years old, she was in fourth year Transfiguration and Charms. “Why are you having me work on this with you?” he asked, looking up from his own Transfiguration revisions. “You’ve got this.” “You’re sure? I don’t want to be unsure of myself when I take my end of term testing,” she replied nervously; the tests were only days away. Once they were completed everyone would be going home for the Christmas holidays. “Perhaps I should practice on something else? Maybe something more difficult?” “Sure, transfigure my arm into a fin,” James jokingly requested. Anwen looked at him for one moment, unsure if he were joking or not, and then lifted her wand and whispered the incantation. Suddenly her friend and co-Chaser on the Quidditch team was sporting a long, scaly, blue-green fin for an arm. Since it was his wand arm, and he no longer had fingers, his wand crashed to the floor with an annoying rattle. “Shite! Anwen, how did you do that?” James yelled, lifting his flippered arm into the air. Remus and Sirius both looked up from their own lessons, while Peter poked his head out of the loo to see what the commotion was all about. “Same spell, right?” she replied innocently. “I simply switched your arm for a fin.” “Holy smokes, Anwen, that’s really good,” Remus complimented her. “Human transfigurations aren’t started until NEWT level classes.” “Winnie, it’s not the same spell at all,” James pointed out. “I don’t think you understand just how advanced -” “Yeah, yeah, she’s all smart and shite,” Sirius responded. “I think I have it this time.” Anwen looked across the room at him, mildly irritated that he hadn’t let her even have a moment of praise before he interrupted. Things had been strange between them for the last few days, and it was really starting to bother her. Waving her wand again, Anwen put James’s arm back and then levitated his wand to him. Peter ducked back into the loo, his aversion to conflict alerting him all might not be well between the best friends. James and Remus shared a look as Anwen slid off the bed, and went to sit on the floor with Sirius and his little cauldron. “What has your pants in a twist?” she very calmly asked. “I can’t get this potion, and I’m sure old Sluggy is going to put it on the exam. It’s the same day as his damn Christmas party. If I don’t get it right I know he’ll say something in front of Reg…” “What are you brewing?” Anwen kindly inquired and Sirius shook his head. “Love potion,” Remus replied for him, causing Sirius to look up at the bed diagonally across the room and snarl. “I suppose it makes sense, you're having trouble,” the girl added dryly. “Of all of us, you're the one who needs help the least. Who exactly are you taking to said Christmas Party?” The tease of her voice annoyed him. “Not you,” he rebuked, sounding anything but joking. “That I knew,” she replied with an eye-roll. “If you’re making Amortentia, it looks and smells all wrong,” she added, leaning over his cauldron. “How would you know?” “I sat with Lily in the Potions lab while she brewed her practice batch. Hers was all shimmery and glistening and didn’t smell like feet.” Anwen took her wand and tapped the side of the cauldron three times. Much to Sirius’s surprise, the individual potion ingredients separated themselves and then fell back into the cauldron. The ensuing mixture was shimmering and glistening while ribbon-like tendrils rose and circled upward. Anwen leaned over it and took a deep whiff before smiling. “Broom polish, and chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, and the sweet grass that grows down by the lake.” She righted herself and looked at Sirius, who was now furious. “How did you? What did you? That’s not what it smells like!” “You brewed it right, you just stirred it wrong. Lily told me if you went at it the wrong way it turned into stinky sludge. Sorry I helped,” she said dejectedly. “He’d have done it right if he wasn’t always off snogging,” James joked. “Who’s the flavour of the month, eh?” “Perhaps it’s flavours,” Remus joined it. “The Thompson triplets have been eyeing him.” “Sod off, both of you,” Sirius roared, irritated at being shown up by a third-year and getting a ribbing from both his friends. “They’re just teasing you,” Anwen remarked as she laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t get involved in things you don’t understand, Anwen. You’re only a third-year.” Anwen looked at him as if he’d slapped her. It was only weeks after his seventeenth birthday, a day she’d gone out of her way to make special for him. He wasn’t ever one who teased her about being younger, thus his remarks hurt more than if they’d been from anyone else. “I’ll be leaving,” she bravely said, the tears evident in her voice to all but Sirius. He refused to look up at her. She stood and walked to the door. “Don’t follow me.” “You’ll be on the map, Winnie,” he reminded her, sounding irritated that she’d even suggest he’d want to follow. “I’m going somewhere not on the map and you've never been there,” she seethed back. “And it’s not the girls’ loo. I know you’ve been inside most of them with your conquests.” She slammed the door shut behind her. “Birds,” Sirius said in a derogatory tone. He looked at Remus, then to James and even to Peter who had decided it was safe to leave the loo. “What?” “What was all that about?” James slowly asked. “I’ve never seen you yell at her.” “She was annoying. What business did she have fixing my potion?” he replied, but even to his own ears it sounded stupid and childish. “The same business she had doing advanced transfiguration,” James reminded him. “She’s a hell of a lot more talented than any third-year. Really, what’s the matter?” “She’s just always around. Doesn’t she have any friends her own age?” Sirius snipped back at his friend. “No,” Peter of all people interjected. “You made sure she wasn’t going to have any friends in her own year when you latched onto her in her first year.” “Shut it, Pete. What do you know about girls?” “About their anatomies, not as much as you; but I think I might know more about their feelings. I do have a little sister, remember?” “Bugger off.” The room was quiet for a few minutes, the other three roommates looked at Padfoot and then peered at one another again. James had silently pulled out the map and was watching Anwen’s retreating dot. He wanted to make sure she was alright, or at least get Sirius to apologise to her before any real damage was done. He had been surprised when she hadn’t returned to the girls’ tower, but instead had left Gryffindor altogether, and headed into a little-used part of the castle. “Hey Sirius, what does your potion smell like?” Remus asked. “Random much?” Sirius retorted. “It’s the wolf brain,” he suggested. “What does it smell like?” Sirius shook his head in irritation and leaned down to take a deep whiff. “Strawberries and…coffee...and…sunshine,” he replied, getting slower and quieter as his answer went on. They were all quiet, which only seemed to provoke Sirius more. “Dammit,” he swore as he stood and kicked his cauldron before storming out. Peter leaned over and cleaned up the mess. “What was all that about?” the smallest Marauder asked, causing Remus and James to shake their heads. Each suspected they might know. James lifted the map and watched his brother leave the tower as well, turning and heading toward the Astronomy Tower. “He going after her?” Remus asked. James shook his head. “Up to the Astronomy Tower. She’s down somewhere off the second floor, above Potions.” He slid from his bed and headed for the door. “You going to talk to him or her?” Peter inquired. “Her. He’s an arse all on his own today; I don’t want her beating herself up for his assish nature.” The others nodded and James left the dorm. Following the labyrinthine path he’d seen Anwen take, he found himself standing in front of a tapestry of a goblin band which was perhaps uglier than the dancing trolls. He had no idea who had decorated the castle, but he was beginning to consider jinxing them, or perhaps hexing the tapestries to improve the looks of the place. He was surprised to hear a voice singing behind the tapestry, and pushed it aside to find a dark, narrow and steep staircase leading downward. Igniting his wand, James went down to find the source of the sound. At the base of the staircase, James Potter found himself in a music room. Although larger and arranged differently than the conservatory at his parents’ home, he instantly knew what the room was for. The musical instruments on the walls were a dead giveaway. Anwen was sitting on a tall stool, guitar in her hands, quietly singing a song which sounded oddly familiar to James. Even if it weren't, the lyrics seemed to fit the tiny girl. Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise... (*) He slipped in through the door and seated himself behind his friend, watching her small hands slide over the strings and frets with ease, her voice combining in an impressive way. There was something strong and yet vulnerable about her singing. As she sang the last line, James was certain Anwen was crying. He quietly began to clap, fearful if he were any louder, he'd frighten her. Even his gentle response had been too much, as she startled and fell off the stool. James quickly stood to help her up. “Anwen, are you okay?” “I'm fine,” she answered, shaking him off. “Please, don't put this room on your map,” she begged even as she sounded overwhelmed and sad. “I need somewhere there aren't any roommates or friends or Marauders sometimes.” “I promise I won't,” James swore. They both sat down on stools, and he looked down at the guitar. “I had no idea you could play. That was the Beatles, right?” “Yeah, I really like them, and that song in particular. Sometimes it still feels like I'm waiting for something, or someone, or,” she inhaled deeply and slowly let it go. “I don't know.” James wrapped his arm around the little Marauderette, knowing it wasn't what he said right now, but rather just that he was here for her. Unseen to the students, two older beings shimmered into existence in the room. They wouldn't be visible until they chose to allow it. “I forgot about this night,” the man said. “I told no one you could sing until the night you sang for Remus.” “I know, if you'd told anyone, they would have said something. Of course, the only ones who didn't know were Peter and Lily, and Peter rarely talked to me. You could have told Lily. I wouldn't have cared,” the woman said. “Yes, that would have been true, but I had made a promise.” The woman reached over and grabbed his hand. “You're a good man. Are you ready to completely frighten these poor children and forever alter the pattern of their lives?” “It sounds so foreboding when you put it that way,” he answered, looking aghast. “We are attempting to head off a horrible future where time is ruptured and people are moving in and out of phase. A little foreboding seemed appropriate,” she added dryly. Over the years she’d adopted her husband’s exceptionally dry sense of humour which played nicely with her propensity to find the absurd in any situation. “Anwen, it’s not that bad everywhere,” James attempted to soothe her. “There are timelines where everyone is happy and we’ve all lived to ripe old ages.” “There were timelines, however, where our lives were messes, if we weren’t dead. Don’t tell me the timeline where you left Lily when she was pregnant with Harry because of the ‘pure-blood laws’ dictated you must didn’t weird you out. There are also too many futures where my eldest boys aren’t there. I can’t imagine not having my boys…” “Anwen, I know you’re frightened,” he said with a gentle arm around her shoulders. Anwen leaned into her cousin’s side; even at fifty-eight, she remained youthful-looking: nearly wrinkle-free with her hair up in her ubiquitous ponytail. “But,” he continued, “we have to do this. We confirmed with all the timelines last night that this is the pivotal night in your relationship with Sirius. In some he runs toward you, in others he runs away and in the rest there is some recognition although not resolution. We must act tonight.” “I understand,” she sighed quietly. “If he runs away, we’re going to need to find another tactic. Narcissa won’t hesitate to go back even farther and kill me off. I’m the only one who senses when Sirius has been replaced, regardless of how young I am.” James nodded in response, although neither looked excited to be having the conversation they were about to embark upon. “Hey, think of it this way,” James said with a goofy smile, “you’ll know you’re my cousin sooner.” Anwen couldn’t help but smile and knock him in his ribs playfully. “Just what I needed, another wacky relative.” James pulled on the ponytail, just as he’d done for decades. “Ready?” “As much as I’ll ever be,” she said before the invisible pair became corporeal and the young Anwen fell off her stool again, in surprise. (*) Blackbird by The Beatles |
| Reviews 15 |
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