Chapter 5: A Time To Act

Crickets were singing outside. Harry could hear their familiar, comforting melody just beyond the window in the study, which he�d left open to capture the breeze drifting in from the lake. It was unusually cool for an evening in late July, for any evening during the summer months, but Harry could barely feel the respite from the heat.

Inside, his entire body was on fire.

He�d felt it little by little, the embers within him slowly growing into modest flames, so slowly that he had been unaware of it happening at first, until the flames had grown into a raging inferno that scorched his own skin. The blood within him was thinning, the air within his lungs was thinning. He could feel himself disintegrating: molecule by molecule, atom by atom. And the thought of it scared the living hell out of him.

�Harry?�

The gentlest of voices drew him out of his thoughts. It was Ginny, who he thought had been sleeping by now; he had made sure she was in a deep slumber when he slipped out of bed. He turned to look at her standing in the doorway, blinking at the shock of the light behind her that was coming from the lamp in the hallway.

�Harry, what are you doing here in the dark?�

She came in, taking her time, as if to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then he felt her come to a stop just in front of him, felt her eyes on him as she gently reached out to close her hand over his. Her warmth spread through his bloodstream in an instant, filling him at once and making him feel whole--alive--at least for that one brief moment. Until the reality of everything flooded his thoughts once again. He pulled away from her and buried his head in his hands.

After a long silence, he said, �Couldn�t sleep.�

He was exhausted, as if the mere words had drained of precious energy, and saying any more would deplete him even further. But he forced himself to gather up the reserves once again to ask one more question.

�How is he?�

Ginny pulled up a chair and sat down, facing him.

�He�s sleeping,� she said. �He�s comfortable. Now that I know what was causing his fever...� She paused, and he heard her take a breath, though she had done it as quietly as possible, as if she hadn�t wanted him to hear the gesture. �I gave him a cooling charm... At least he can sleep through the night...�

�Good,� he said. �That�s good.�

The words had come out strangled, choked. He hadn�t meant for them to come out that way; the last thing Ginny needed right then and there was to worry about him too, on top of already worrying about their son. By God, he was not going to add to her burden.

�I can... perform it on you too, if you�d like,� she said quietly.

He said nothing, only shaking his head.

�I know you know how to do it yourself, but... perhaps it�d be more effective if someone else-�

�No.�

He saw her straighten at the word, as if stung from his reaction and pulling back from him in response, and in that moment, he hated himself at for being so unnecessarily harsh. Blimey, she was only trying to help--why did he have to be such a bloody git about it?

�I just...� He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Just what he needed, his hair to be messier than it already was on its own. �I�m sorry, Gin...�

After a while, he felt her hand caress his back, a silent gesture that she�d accepted his apology. She touched her lips to the top of his head, then brought her hand under his chin and tilted his face up.

�Let it out,� she said softly. �Just let it all out.�

He wanted to. Honest to God, he really wanted to, but he just... couldn�t.

�There were storms in Western Ireland today,� he said. �It might be tomorrow before Pegasus can get our letter to Em.�

�Harry, please don�t do this,� she said.

He knew exactly what she meant, but it felt better to pretend he didn�t. �Do what?�

�You know what.�

�Ginny-�

�Please don�t shut me out,� she said, lacing her fingers through his. �Not now.�

�The way you shut me out when Riddle was tormenting you?�

He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Ginny pulled her hand away from his and stood; Harry tried to grab hold of her arm, but she jerked it away from him.

�Gin, I�m sorry, I shouldn�t have-�

�No, don�t be sorry,� she said, her voice wavering. Harry wanted to cut out his tongue. �You�ve obviously been carrying that around with you for a while.�

Her back was to him, and he waited for her to turn around, but she didn�t. Finally, he reached out to her and gently, ever so gently, placed his hands on her shoulders. When she didn�t shrug them away, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

�God, I�m sorry,� he whispered. �That was way out of line, I know it...�

He felt her sigh, then slump back against him.

�I didn�t mean it, I swear,� he said. �It�s just that... I don�t know how to deal with any of this...�

In time, she turned back around to face him again.

�When are you going to realize you�re not alone?� she said. �You haven�t been alone for over thirty years, Harry! I�m here. Ron�s here. Hermione�s here. We�re all here to help you, don�t you see that??�

�I don�t expect you to-�

�No,� she said. �I know you don�t expect us to. I know that. But we are here. We will always be here, no matter what. This is not your burden to carry out alone...�

He traced her jaw line with his finger. He wondered what else he�d lose--if he�d lose her as well, or at least the memory of her. If he�d lose the memory of his children, forget the details of when they were born, or the sound of their first words, or the sheer elation he felt when they�d taken their first steps.

Then the realization sliced into him: they would fade into oblivion, as he himself might.

And Ginny would cease to remember him as well, in time.

He felt wetness beneath his fingers; she was crying. He fanned away a stray tear from her cheekbone, then brought her forehead to his lips.

�I can�t lose you,� she said. He realized she was sobbing. �I can�t lose the three people I love most in this world...�

He held her as she shook, and eventually her breathing returned to normal. She eased herself off him, and for a long time she just stood there, watching him. Harry wondered if she was trying to commit his face to memory. Then she touched his forehead, ran her finger over his scar and whispered, �Frigidulus Decero...�

And for that moment, at least, he knew he would be safe.

Paper everywhere. Obviously, he had inherited not a drop of his mother�s organization skills, and though his father claimed to be neat and tidy, nothing to could be further from the truth, which meant if anything was to blame for Jack�s lack of any sort of filing system in this office, it would be his Weasley genes.

Then again, they had already provided plenty of highly useful skills and traits, so being his father�s son definitely had its advantages.

�Where is that bloody thing, anyhow??� Jack growled.

He stared at the stack of papers and books, sitting on the desk, immediately to his right. He had searched through this particular pile before, at least three times (or was it five?), but seeing as he�d searched the rest of the office already and was still empty-handed (but it was in here somewhere, he knew it), he could think of nothing else to do than to go through it once more, futile as the search may prove once again.

He was never going to find that damn Guide To Werewolf Bites book at this rate. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten-thirteen. It seemed to be taunting him, and not for the first time tonight, he wondered what in bloody hell he was still doing here at the office at this hour, when where he really wanted to be was cozy in his own bed, deep in slumber.

But such was the life of a rookie Auror; he�d heard enough stories from his father of his early years to know that these were simply the dues one had to pay to earn his stripes in this job, and despite being the son of probably the most revered and accomplished Auror of his generation, Jack Weasley learnt a long time ago that he most certainly was not going to get any sort of preferential treatment. And despite that, the decision to become an Auror had been worth it all.

He smiled to himself, remembering the day he had told his parents that he would be walking away from a wildly successful Quidditch career in order to pursue his one true passion: becoming an Auror. Dad�s face had been a jumble of emotions. Jack knew what a thrill it had been for him when the Wimbourne Wasps had drafted him out of Hogwarts, and looking back on it, that had probably been the driving factor in Jack taking the team up on their offer, but there was also no denying the sheer pride in his father�s eyes when Jack had told him he wanted to give it all up to follow in his footsteps.

It would be hard, his father warned him. There would be nights (such as this one, no doubt) when he would ask himself what he in the world he had been thinking in choosing this path. And it would be dangerous. Jack had learnt that first-hand.

Mum, of course, was predictably torn up. Clearly she had been dreading the day that one of her children would choose to go in this profession, and as they were growing up, she had been careful to steer them towards �safer� things: Ministry work, law, writing, healing, teaching. But adventure was in the Weasley blood, and even she was well aware of that. In the end, though it may have broken her heart to know that her oldest child had chosen to pursue such a dangerous profession, she never tried to dissuade him.

Even she had known never to stand in the way of someone�s dream.

�I thought you might still be here...�

�Dad!�

His father grinned, nodding towards the mess on his desk and said, �All-nighter, eh?�

He nodded. �Paperwork,� he said. �Lots of it.�

Jack aimed his wand at the books on the other chair and banished them over to a messy pile in the corner. Normally they would have landed on the floor in orderly stacks (alphabetically arranged when he was feeling especially ambitious), but he was in a rush, and charms always seemed to take a bit extra concentration which he wasn�t willing to supply at the moment.

�I remember that all too well,� his father sighed, taking his cue and slumping down on the chair.

�What�re you doing here so late, anyway? Isn�t Mum going to have a fit that you�re not home yet?�

His father chuckled. �Thanks for your concern, but your mum is just fine,� he said. �For your information, I was home at a decent hour today--ages ago, matter of fact. I just popped over to see you.�

Jack arched an eyebrow. �Oh?�

It was then that he noticed that his father had something in his hand. It looked to be an envelope of some kind, though he couldn�t really tell for sure because of the angle of the way Dad was resting his arm on the desk.

�I want to ask you something,� he said. �Strictly confidential for now, all right?�

Something told him whatever this was seemed to be a serious matter, as his father�s demeanor seemed to change drastically within the last few seconds.

�Of course, Dad... What is it?�

�I don�t hear much from this office nowadays...�

Jack grinned at him. �What, you mean no one briefs the Deputy Minister of Security what goes on in the lowly Auror unit?�

�Briefs, yes,� his father said, �details, no. I don�t hear about... individual cases...�

Now he really was intrigued.

�Was there one in particular you had in mind?�

His father fingered the envelope in his hand, then after a while he spoke again. �Has there been anything involving a time-turner?�

Jack looked at him, startled. �Yeah,� he said, �as a matter of fact, there is...�

�Really?�

He father leaned over, and Jack could see clearly now that it was indeed an envelope in his hand, a rather worn and old-looking one at that.

�It�s an internal case,� he explained. �They wanted to keep it hush hush for now, but you probably would have been briefed on it this week.�

�What�s going on?�

�The Improper Use of Magic Office did a raid last week. Found some bloke who was making illegal time-turners and selling them on the black market. Loads of �em, Dad! Time-turners of every kind, small ones that could take you back minutes, and even some that supposedly could take you back years in the past--or at least those were the rumors, anyway. But you know how those folks in that office exaggerate...�

His father nodded absently.

�Anyway, Keating had led the raid himself,� he went on. �He confiscated all the time-turners and brought them in for evidence, to keep in one of the vaults. But when his team began cataloguing them, he found that one of them was missing...�

Something flashed in his father�s eyes, and he straightened immediately in his chair.

�Missing?�

Jack nodded. �Keating thinks the bloke who made them stashed one away, but he denies it. Personally, I believe him, Dad. I think someone stole it.�

�So the office will be investigating this, right?�

�Technically it still falls under the jurisdiction of the Improper Use of Magic Office, but they�ve agreed to let our office assign an Auror to the case.�

�Who, then?�

Jack smiled. �Me,� he said. �They�ve assigned me. My first major case.�

�Jack, that�s... I�m proud of you.�

He could feel all the blood rushing to his face; he knew he must have looked like a ripe tomato at that moment, yet another Weasley trait that upon further consideration, was not one in particular that he liked too much.

After a while, he said, �Dad, what�s this all about? Why are you asking me about time-turners?�

His father�s face turned serious again, even more than before, which worried Jack.

�Listen to me, whoever�s privy to this particular case, it�s important that I talk to them,� his father said. �Immediately. This is urgent.�

�What is it?�

�Jack, that time-turner that was stolen... it was stolen to help Voldemort...�

Jack felt the air seep out of his lungs. �What?�

�Someone wants to help Voldemort come back to power in the past... He�s going to kill your Uncle Harry soon, unless we do something quickly-�

�Wait a minute, what�s... Dad, slow down...�

�No! No, there�s no time to slow down, don�t you understand?�

�What are you saying? What do you-�

�I need to help Harry,� he said. �I need to go back in time.�

Hermione was already asleep when he apparated into the bedroom. Ron could hear the rhythm of her breath, could see the slow rise and fall of her chest from the door. A strip of moonlight fell just across their bed where she lay, and he watched her, entranced.

Part of him wanted to wake her at that moment; he needed to talk to someone, and in times like these, she was the first one he reached out to. But the other part of him--the bigger part of him--wanted to watch her sleep. He wanted to watch her be at peace, unblemished by worries or anxieties. They would surely come soon enough.

He didn�t know why, but his thoughts suddenly went to Ginny right then, what she must be going through, knowing that she could lose her husband at any moment. He was lucky. The one he loved was right here, safe and sound, in no danger of going anywhere--or so he prayed. He ran his hand over her hair, barely touching it at all so that she wouldn�t stir, but feeling her all the same. She was here with him. Flesh and blood. Hermione.

Gently, as gently as he could so she wouldn�t wake, he sank down next to her on the bed. She was lying on her side, facing him as if he had been in bed with her, though his side had been empty until this moment. As if feeling his presence, she murmured, then reached out her hand. It caught his, and he twined their fingers together.

That�s when she woke.

�Ron?� she mumbled sleepily.

�Right here, love...�

She smiled, eyes still halfway closed, but open just enough to see him. �What time is it?�

�Late,� he said, kissing her forehead, then settling in bed.

�What do you think you�re doing?� she giggled.

�What?�

�You�re still in your clothes, and you�ve got your shoes on!�

�Oh,� he laughed, then he kicked his shoes off. �That do?�

�Better. But you can�t go to sleep in this-�

�Hermione...�

�No, this is just wrong, all wrong... How will you ever be able to get to sleep still dressed like this?�

He began to laugh. Just a little at first, but it felt so damn good to do it that he laughed a little more, and soon she was laughing softly as well.

�I love you, you know,� he whispered. He cupped her cheek, then captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. �Who else would fuss over me like this?�

She smiled. �Only someone who loves you like I do, I reckon,� she said.

�Reckon so.�

�Ron...�

�Yeah?�

�You�re not really going to go to sleep in all of this, are you? I mean, you�re still dressed.�

�So I am,� he said. �Why don�t you take care of that?�

It was all the encouragement she needed.