Time Warp - Chapter 4

Summary: An incident with the Time Turners during the Battle of the Ministry sends Harry hurtling through time. Lost in a world that is no longer his own, he's forced to turn to the most unlikely of places for help…

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Chapter 4: Absence

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“Let’s start again. Tell us everything about your interaction with this Mr. Peverell from the moment he appeared.”

Narcissa suppressed the urge to groan irritably at the black robed figure before her. It’d been six hours since her mysterious patient up and disappeared, and since then, Narcissa hadn’t had a second of peace. First, she had returned to the hospital after Healer Abbott’s summons reached her. She was greeted with the normal employee entrance being utterly inaccessible, followed by the other three she tried in short order. Each had been completely magically sealed, which could only have meant one thing. They were under lockdown.

That particular revelation only served to increase her curiosity surrounding the dark-haired man who all but ‘popped’ into her life. Who was he? And how was he dangerous enough to call for a lockdown the second he disappears? The more her mind went back to the few scant hours she spent with Harry, the more questions formed in her head. 

Thankfully, after sending a quick message via her I.D. badge to Healer Abbott, Narcissa was let in through the front entrance, though not without an escort of two mysterious black robed individuals. What followed next was a spectacle for the ages. Healer Abbott–who was normally a king and rather patient man–stood in the middle of the main lobby, ripping into a rather bored-looking goateed wizard in the same black coloured robes as the other.

“When I asked for you to come and investigate a possible misuse of time magic, I meant INVESTIGATE! I didn’t mean stomp through the halls with your wands out, ready to curse my patients!” Abbott roared.

“Chronomancy is a very serious and dangerous branch of magic, Senior Healer.” The goateed wizard drawled. “Your report suggested that you not only had a practitioner of this magic within this very ward, but one who hails from a family famous for delving into the darkest and mysterious arts. I wasn’t going to put my squad in harm's way without the necessary precautions.”

Narcissa watched as Healer Abbott's face morphed into a deep red snarl of rage. “Necessary precautions?! You detained three of my staff and nearly gave one patient a heart attack by breaking down her door! Then you instigated our lockdown protocol, which I might add, you do not have the authority to do—and proceeded to set the entire hospital into a state of panic! We have sick people here for Merlin’s sake! Do you have any idea what kind of detrimental effects all this stress could have on their health?!”

“Which I’m sure you and your staff are more than capable of handling!” The dark-robed wizard snapped. “So why don’t you do us both a favour, Senior Healer, and worry about doing your job while I worry about doing mine? Yes?” Before Healer Abbott could offer a retort, the goateed man suddenly turned to face Narcissa. It was so fast that she nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise, having not even expected he was aware of her presence.

“You.” He said, pointing towards her. “You were the Trainee who tended to the suspect for the longest, is that correct?”

Narcissa glanced towards Healer Abbott for guidance. When he nodded his assent, albeit grudgingly, she sighed and turned back to face the stranger with a nod. “Yes, that’s correct. Trainee Healer Black at your service.” She greeted with faux politeness.

The man seemed taken aback by her name at first before he surprised her again by snorting. 

“A Black, eh? Well colour me fucking surprised.” He grumbled. “You’ll be coming with us for questioning.” He gestured to the two other men who escorted her inside. Before Nnarcissa could so much as blink, the other two robed figures had her arms clasped in iron-like grips. Narcissa grunted and tried to wriggle her arms free, but it was of little use.

“Unhand me! I’ve done nothing wrong!” She hissed.

“She’s right Croaker!” Abbott cried. “She’s not the guilty party here! You can’t just detain her without due cause!”

“Take it up with Barty.” The goateed wizard smirked. “Until then, it’s my job to see just how innocent your little pet Black is. Take her away!”

Narcissa kicked and cursed as she was all but dragged to the nearest floo. All the while, Healer Abbott watched on with a look of guilt.

That was six hours ago. Since then, she’s been all but locked inside the small interrogation room where she sat now. The dark stone walls surrounding her felt suffocating. Her back ached from sitting in the unyielding metal chair all day, whilst her stomach churned uncomfortably due to only having been given a small cup of water since she was first dragged here. Only once was she allowed to leave, and that was only for a quick trip to the loo with two new female guards escorting her there and back. The rest of the time was spent alone in absolute and utter boredom, save for the handful of times like this, when the mysterious ‘Croaker’ fellow would seemingly appear from thin air before sitting down to question her about the same set of events over and over and over again…

“I said start again, Miss Black.” 

Narcissa tsked irritably. “Why? I’ve already told you everything I know! Multiple times in fact! Why do you insist on asking me these questions again and again?!”

Croaker stared at her from across the dingy metal table without so much as a blink. “Start again, Miss Black.” He said with a neutral tone.

Narcissa growled and fought the urge to reach forward and claw the insufferable man’s bloody eyes out. Instead, she rubbed at her temples to help alleviate the headache pounding inside her skull. She was exhausted and hungry and just frankly pissed off. 

“Start aga-”

“No!” Her scream was enough to force the man into a moment of silence. A small victory, but Narcissa wasn’t done yet. “I’m finished with your questions! I’m not saying another bloody word until you either let me go or contact my lawyer!”

“I don’t take orders from-”

“I am a daughter of House Black!” It sounded childish, petulant even to her, but at this point, she didn’t care. She just wanted to go home. “You will not, and cannot, treat me this way! When my grandfather-”

Before she could continue, the screeching of the interrogation room door caught both of their attention. As if summoned by her very words, Arcturus Black stepped through the doorway with an unreadable expression affixed to his face. Though even Narcissa could see it was a facade. There was an anger in his onyx eyes. Cold and piercing and wholly terrifying in a way that Narcissa has only ever seen once before.

“I believe my granddaughter has made her objections clear, Unspeakable Croaker.” Her grandfather drawled in his deep baritone accent. 

Croaker stood at once a look of shock and annoyance affixed to his features as he took in the sight of the older lord.

“Lord Black, what an honour.” Croaker growled.

“Well I hardly believe that.” Her grandfather scoffed. “Now be a good ministry dog and remove those chains from her wrists before I see to it they’re wrapped around yours for the rest of your miserable days.”

The threat was said in such a way that made it seem as mundane as discussing the weather, yet the command had an unlying authority to it like everything er grandfather said. Even Croaker, with his obvious dislike of her family, could not ignore the command and so hastily unclapsed the shackles binding Narcissa’s wrists with a flick of his wand.

“This isn’t over Miss Black. We’ll be keeping tabs on you.” Croaker glared.

“No you will not.” Arcturus stepped forward, placing a hand on the small of Narcissa’s back. “You will forget that my granddaughter, and by extension House Black, had any involvement in this little tirade of yours. If you do not, then I will ensure the name Croaker truly becomes as unspoken as your job title suggests.”

“Is that a threat?!” Croaker bit.

Her grandfather merely smiled, the act causing a small shiver of fear to trail down Narcissa’s spine. Smiling was never a good thing to see Arcturus Black do.

“Call it an act of Divination. Good day, Unspeakable.”

With that, Narcissa was gently coaxed forward by her grandfather’s guiding hand. She said nothing, and he in turn offered no words of his own as they traversed the dimly lit halls. She had no clue where they were going, but Arcturus seemed to know his way around enough for the both of them. After a bit of walking, where the only sound made between them was the soft cllacking of her grandfather’s cane against the stone floor, the dark blackened brick walls gave way to a lighter and familiar passageway that Narcissa recognised from her occasional trips to the Ministry.

Feeling a bit better now that she was no longer within the unsettling dark halls, Narcissa craned her neck to look back at the older wizard.

“Grandfather what was-”

“Quiet now.” He shushed her. “Not here. We will discuss this at the manor. Come.”

His voice was not angry but it was certainly stern enough to offer up no argument from her. Narcissa nodded and remained silent the rest of their walk. It was only when they stepped into the main atrium floo that she allowed herself a breath of relief. Whoever this Harry Peverell was she certainly wanted nothing to do with him. Trouble followed him like a moth to a flame, and Narcissa despised trouble.

-

Harry found Andromeda Tonks to be a very odd individual. Of course as someone who was raised as a member of the Blacks, being odd was practically a prerequisite. However, Andromeda was less ‘Severed House-Elf heads on the mantel’ odd and more of a ‘He had absolutely no clue what she was thinking at any given time and for some reason that unnerved him’ odd.

Granted, he hardly knew the woman. He had a handful of tales from Sirius about her and that was enough to paint a rough picture, but nothing more. Knowing she’d one day be the mother of Auror Tonks, self-proclaimed badass (and she was, but he’d never hear the end of it if he actually told her that) and dark wizard catching extraordinaire. It was the memory of the pink-haired witch that was his reason for trusting Andromeda so readily. However, it wasn’t his trust for her that he found odd, but her trust for him.

She hardly needed any convincing to help him escape the hospital. For all she (and he) knew, he was a wanted criminal or some dark wizard. It made no sense for her to help him, let alone let him stay at her home for a few days.

And that was where he was now. Sitting in the guest room of the Tonks home while he waited for Andromeda to return from the hospital.

The sound of the front door opening broke him from his musings. Quickly unholstering his wand, he crept towards the door and slowly eased it open. A distant roar of ‘Constant Vigilance!’ played over and over again in his mind. It was the only voice that he heard in his head since the night before. Once he had escaped, Death had become eerily quiet as if they’d never been there.

Before he could make it further from his room, the sound of keys landing against a counter reached his ears, as did Andromeda’s voice.

“Harry? I’m back!”

Letting out a small breath of relief, Harry stashed away his wand and made his way to the kitchen. The excitement from the night before still had him a bit out of it. His magical core still had yet to recover fully, and as such, he felt almost completely drained of all his physical energy. He’d been too full of adrenaline last night to notice at the time, but when he awoke this morning, his very limbs had felt like they were made of stone. He was able to make it to the kitchen, thankfully, where Andromeda greeted him with a smile before throwing a small shopping bag towards him.

Harry caught it, his natural seeker talents not letting it fall to the floor. With a raised brow, he opened the small paper bag to reveal two pairs of jeans and a single plain grey t-shirt.

“You bought me clothes?” He asked with a hint of bewilderment.

Andromeda shrugged before reaching into the fridge and pulling out two glass bottles of beer.

“Figured they may function a bit better than a half-arsed transfigured hospital gown. For the time being at least.” She cracked the bottles open on the countertop, taking a sip of one while handing Harry the other.

Harry took it wordlessly, glancing back down at the clothes bag. “I- Uh- Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

Andromeda shrugged again. “It wasn’t much.”

It wasn’t, but it was at least enough to get by with while he figured out what the hell to do from here. He couldn’t stay with Andromeda forever. She had made that clear herself the night prior. The only reason she was allowing him to stay at all was because her husband was off attending the ICW legislation hearing. Once he returned in two days, Harry would have to leave.

“Any news from the hospital then?” He asked. Andromeda had left early that morning for her shift and had promised to keep an ear out for any new information regarding the trio of black-robed figures.

“Nothing concrete. The rumour mill at that place is nearly as bad as the one at Hogwarts.” She said. “From what people are saying, the three wizards from last night sort of just appeared out of nowhere and took control of the hospital. No one even knew it was you they were looking for. After the lockdown ended, though, there was apparently a big argument that happened between Abbott and their leader about how they handled the situation. It’s not really clear what happened after that, but word is a member of the staff did get carted off for questioning.” She paused to take a sip of her drink and shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like what happened last night before. Those three were definitely Ministry spooks, though. So you must’ve pissed off someone high up then.  What’d you do, shag the Minister’s wife or something?”

Harry shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t know what they wanted from me.”

Andromeda hummed and studied him for a moment, taking another sip from her drink before setting the bottle down with a sigh. “Look, I believe you, okay? But I also know you’re not telling me the whole truth. Now I’ve put my job on the line for you, Harry, perhaps even more, and that’s fine, but if you want me to keep helping you, then you need to start telling me the truth.”

Harry held Andromeda’s gaze. Her onyx eyes peered into him searchingly with just the faintest bit of hope. Could he tell her? Would she even believe him was the bigger question? He was in a world not his own. No gold, no friends, and before today, not even the clothes on his back. He needed allies, and Andromeda was readily offering to be the helping hand he needed. What choice did he have other than to tell her the truth? Or at least, enough of it?

Taking a breath, and perhaps steeling himself for the inevitable claim of insanity, Harry began his tale. He told her of the Ministry, of his friends that joined them and the Death Eaters that attacked. He spoke of the prophecy, of the battle that followed after they found it, and of the mysterious room with Time Turners held within. After that, it was a blur in his memories. He told her what he could recall–breaking the Time Turners, the explosion of magic around him as the sand of time ignited, and of the darkness that greeted him. It was his meeting with Death that he withheld, fearing it to be perhaps too much at the moment. A tale of time travel was hard enough to believe, and he desperately wanted someone to believe him, to know he wasn’t alone in this world where he knew no one and had nothing.

It was quiet once he finally finished his story. He chanced a look up to see Andromeda’s gaze affixed to the counter-top, unfocused. She said nothing, and as the silence stretched on Harry prepared himself for the worst. Finally, Andromeda took a breath, swallowing down a mouthful of beer in quick succession before setting her bottle back down with an audible ‘clink!’.

“Well…fuck…” She said simply. “You don’t do anything by half-measures, do you Harry?”

Harry couldn’t help it. Relief flooded through him as Andromeda grinned his way. He laughed, loud and happily, as he nodded his head.

“You have no idea.”

“Well–at any rate, the three buggers at the hospital make a bit more sense now. I imagine Time Travel is something the Ministry tries to keep firm control of. Can’t imagine what sort of alarm bells you set off when you popped in out of nowhere.” She said with a chuckle of her own.

“So you believe me?” Andromeda nodded, making the relief he felt grow all the more.

“Can’t see why I shouldn’t.” She said. “Mind you, it is a bit of a fantastical tale, but it also answers a whole hell of a lot of questions. The level of magical exhaustion you experienced for one.”

“What's so strange about that?” He asked.

“For one, it would have killed any normal witch or wizard,” Andromeda explained offhandedly. Harry nodded, feeling very much like he dodged a bullet. “Also explains why you keep looking at me all weird, like I’ve grown a second head or something. I’m going to guess we know each other in the future?”

Harry coughed awkwardly. So she had noticed that…In his defence, he hadn’t meant to stare. It was just that she looked scarily similar to Bellatrix that if she dyed her hair, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. 

“I- Uh- No. Well, not exactly. I know your sisters, though.” He explained.

Andromeda, for her part, seemed to understand as she nodded with a look of sympathy. “Ah, well, guess I should apologise for them then? They aren’t the most personable of witches. Can’t imagine how much worse it gets when they’re older.”

He waved her off. “Not your fault. At least you and Sirius turned out alright.”

That seemed to trigger something for Andromeda as she gave a snort of laughter. “You know Sirius? Really? Dear Morgana please don’t tell me you’re his secret love child from the future here to kill him or something…Or actually, do. The prat probably deserves it for cheating on Marlene McKinnon last year.”

Harry laughed good-naturedly along with her and shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. He’s my godfather.”

Instantly, Andromeda sobered. Her laughter died so suddenly that Harry feared he had said something wrong, at least until he saw the way she was looking at him. Her onyx eyes were tracing the edges of his face, as if studying his features more closely. Yet it was when her eyes landed upon his once more that she pulled back with a sharp intake of breath.

“Holy shit…Guess I owe Alice 10 sickles…” She muttered. “James I can see. You look just like him. I honestly don’t know how I missed it at first, but your eyes…You have-”

“My mother’s eyes.” He finished for her.

“I was gonna say Lily’s, but yeah. Blimey, and here I thought James Potter was delusional chasing after her like that. Guess he eventually wears her down then?...Harry?”

Harry wasn’t listening, though. He couldn’t even hear anything besides his own frantic breathing as the realisation hit him. His parents were alive. But of course they were, how hadn’t he made that connection sooner? He knew he was in the bloody past after all! God, he was thick sometimes! He was in the past, and his parents were alive. He wasn’t the last Potter anymore!

…So then why did he only feel more alone now than he did before?

-

Narcissa fought the urge to shift uncomfortably in her seat as her grandfather set about pouring them both a cup of tea. Arcturus Black was not a man for idle chit-chat over tea. She knew this conversation would be an important one, which meant yet another interrogation for her to sit through, albeit in a far more comfortable chair this time.

“So–” Grandfather began. “--I have one granddaughter who runs out on her duty and family to cavort with mudbloods, another who cares for nought but her next chance to cross wands with another like some common hooligan, and then there’s you, my dear Narcissa, a suspected criminal now, hmm? My how far my House has come.”

Narcissa felt her cheeks flush with shame. “Grandfather I–”

“Silence.” He spoke the word gently, with an almost underlying tinge of amusement, but to Narcissa it felt like a command from Merlin himself. Instantly, she clamped her mouth shut, feeling the heat burn hotter in her cheeks as she watched her grandfather take a sip of his tea.

“Croaker is a fool. I do not believe for a moment he had any real reason for arresting you.” He grunted. “But it certainly did not help matters when you all but waltzed into his grasp.”

“But Grandfather, I only returned to the hospital because one of my patients–”

“I said silence.” Again, he did not yell, but there was a steely sharpness to his voice that made Narcissa tremble slightly in fear. He had ever only spoken to her like that twice before. Once, when she was six and had fallen from the tallest tree on the manor grounds, only a bout of accidental magic saved her from a swift end. Another time, when she was fourteen and he caught her sneaking a bottle of brandy from her Uncle Orion’s study. It had the same effect now as it had then, it made her feel small–tiny. Like a petulant child.

“Your loyalty to those under your care is an admirable trait, Narcissa, but we both know the patient in question was no ordinary witch or wizard, now don’t we?” She snapped her gaze up in surprise. He knew about Harry? Grandfather gave a nod at her searching look and continued. “This…Harry Peverell is an unknown, and in this world, unknowns are dangerous. Did it not strike you odd that it was an Unspeakable conducting the investigation around Mr. Peverell’s disappearance, hmm? Why not the aurors? Because there is magic involved here that no ordinary witch or wizard is capable of comprehending, my dear.”

“I-I understand.” She spoke hesitantly. “It was not my intention to place myself in a position of suspect, Grandfather.”

Her Grandfather studied her for a moment, his face just as unreadable as the thoughts within his head. Finally, he released a sigh, almost deflating somewhat in weariness.

“I know it was not. And if that were the only issue with this whole…mess, then I would see no need to discuss it further. However, it seems this Mr. Peverell is intent on causing our family more headaches.” He grumbled.

“Grandfather?” She questioned, unsure of the meaning behind his words.

“What I am about to show you will stay between us. No one else in the family can know of this, at least not just yet. Is that clear?” Confused, Narcissa nodded all the same, the sudden shift in the older wizard’s demeanour throwing her off. Grandfather nodded and turned to the side. With a flick of his wrist, the curtains on the far wall fell away, revealing the Black family tapestry she’d come to know since her earlier childhood. The familiar scrawl of names and dates met her gaze, the connecting branches twisted and knotting like a tangle of cracks in the very roots of her ancestry. She found herself without issue, her name glowing golden and vibrant just as much as her siblings. The brief pang of relief she felt when she caught sight of Andy’s name still just as brightly lit as her own was startling, and she did her best not to show her reaction across her features. She was still there, her name hadn’t been burned away. That was…Well, she could not decide if it was good or bad, but it was a relief to her all the same, even if she couldn’t understand why.

Yet it was the other name that finally forced a physical reaction from her. The one standing alone, unburndened by the other branches and glowing a startling gold that seemed to outshine all the others.

Grandfather was indeed right, it seemed. Harry Peverell was intent on remaining a thorn in her side far more than she could ever fathom.

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Author’s Note

If only she knew…Next Chapter: Out first Bellatrix POV and the introduction of a certain Headmaster!

Thanks for reading!