Chapter 10: The Scene Of The Crime

Jack had only seen pictures of the Riddle house.

There had been one or two he remembered seeing in his History of Magic book; it had been, after all, the famous site of the end of the Great War, where Voldemort was finally defeated at the hands of his Uncle Harry. Rumor had it that Professor Binns, who had always been loath to teach what he deemed to be �sensationalistic� topics, hadn�t wanted to teach about the Great War at all (indeed, like many of the wizards of his generation, he refused to even refer to the Dark Lord by his name). Nevertheless, he had supposedly acquiesced later on at the request of Headmistress McGonagall, who had felt that this was too important a part of contemporary history to ignore.

Jack had to marvel at the sheer irony, that what he and hundred of other children had learned over the years--what everyone had remembered collectively over the years--wasn�t really what had happened at all.

At times his head still hurt at the implications of all of it.

When he first apparated on the grounds of the house, he had thought that he had misjudged his aim and landed someplace else. He was standing something that looked like it had been a garden at some point, but now had dead, brown grass, and was punctuated with bald spots of cracked earth here and there. And the old, dilapidated manor, with wild ivy that crawled across its walls and the torn shutters, was nowhere to be found. Instead, all around him was rubble: aged, weathered rubble, that seemed to have gone unnoticed and untouched for decades. If it weren�t for the sight of Aurors walking about the grounds, lifting and moving pieces of stone and brick out of the way, he�d�ve thought he�d come to the wrong place altogether.

Up ahead, he caught sight of Foster, deep in discussion with Samantha Reese, one of the veteran Aurors in the group, who was clutching something in her hand that Jack couldn�t quite see from this angle. Whatever it was, though, it seemed to be what she and Foster was discussing.

�Sir!� he called out.

Both Foster and Reese turned their heads to look at him. Reese�s face, in particular, went pale, and Jack saw her immediately lean into Foster and whisper something to him. Foster nodded discreetly, and she went off before Jack had even reached them.

�I came as soon as I got the note,� Jack said, his eyes following Reese as she joined the other Aurors in shifting rubble aside. A slight breeze had started to pick up, scattering heavy dust and dirt into the air, making him cough slightly. �You sent for me, sir?�

�Yes,� Foster said, �I did...�

Jack looked around him again, squinting his eyes to keep the dust particles from flying into them.

�What in bloody hell�s happened here, anyway?� he said, kicking at the rubble by his feet. �This place looks like it�s been leveled!�

�A fire broke out,� Foster told him.

�A fire?� Jack said incredulously.

Foster nodded. �Completely destroyed everything, as you can see...�

Jack let out another cough, and started to go where the other Aurors were, but Foster pulled them aside.

�Sir, I don�t see any ashes... Are we sure it was a fire? It couldn�t have been something else?�

�What we think,� Foster said carefully, �is that the fire might have taken place thirty years ago...�

The full impact of the words didn�t his Jack those first few seconds, but when they did, they hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. He looked back at Foster and opened his mouth to speak, though no sentences could quite form quickly enough in his brain.

�Thirty years ago...�

�Yes,� Foster said. He seemed to be drawing out the words, as if he needed to let them sink in for himself as well. �Something�s changed in the continuum again...�

�But sir,� Jack managed to get out, after he finally found his voice again, �how can we... be sure it happened?�

He saw Foster take in a deep breath and let out a slow exhale. �We have reason to believe it did,� he said. �This place was still standing as of yesterday, but this morning it was all in ruins... All indications point to a fire, only as you observed, there are no ashes. No signs of any recent damage. It�s as if it all happened in the past, but the effects of it showed up only now...�

�Then that means,� Jack murmured, �that something must have happened to change things again... Does my father know about this?�

The look on Foster�s face at his question sent a chill tearing through his spine. Something was wrong. He knew it.

�What is it?� he said, fighting that terrible fear that he might already know the answer, and that it would be one he wouldn�t want to hear. �Dad�s supposed to be back by now, right? It�s been over twenty-four hours... Hasn�t he checked in yet?�

When Foster didn�t answer, Jack knew then his worst fears had been confirmed.

His head was throbbing. Badly.

Ron came to consciousness slowly, like waking from a long and deep sleep, but he made sure to keep his eyes closed. He felt as if any movement right now, however tiny and insignificant--as opening his eyes would be--might just be enough to cause his head to fall off his body altogether.

Bloody hell, it hurt. Pain pressed on his crown with the weight of a thousand Erumpents stomping their angry feet, pounding away indiscriminately, and it was all Ron could do not to go ill at the continual pulses of excruciating agony. A groan tore from his lips as he attempted the impossible and forced his lids open. The room that came in and out of focus was not one he was immediately familiar with, though something about the way it smelled evoked some sort of memory he couldn�t quite place at the moment. The odd, yet pungent mixture of dog sweat, leather, and porridge made him wince, but it also made him feel strangely at ease for some reason.

He was in a bed; he�d figured that much out at least. The covers were rough--some sort of raw sheepskin, or else fur from some poor creature. He groaned again, trying to force himself to slide up, though the sudden movement (however gradual he had attempted it to be) caused another wave of nausea to wash over him, and he bent over instinctively, clutching at his stomach.

�Don� yeh dare get sick on that floor!� a voice barked at him, startling him into falling back down onto the bed.

He knew that voice.

�'Bout time yeh woke up. I thought yeh�d lie there like a rock till tomorrow...�

It took another few seconds for the room to come into focus again, and someone--presumably the one to whom that voice was attached--appeared, looking down at him. A very big, bearded, hairy someone.

�Hagrid...�

The half-giant�s eyes widened for an instant, then just as quickly, narrowed dangerously, regarding him with suspicion.

�How do yeh know me name?� he demanded.

It was by pure luck that Ron stopped himself just in time, before he made what undoubtedly would have been an even bigger mistake than the one he just had made only seconds ago. Somehow, reason flooded back to him, and he realized how absolutely nutters it would have sounded if he had said to Hagrid at that moment, �It�s me, you big dolt!�

Nutters, and downright suicidal, as it surely would have earned him yet another blow to the head, on top of this one from which he was already trying to recover.

It must have been Hagrid who had knocked him out last night, and dragged him here to his cabin. Ron should have known.

�Now, stay there, hear??� Hagrid said. �Don� yeh dare move, or I�ll give yeh another good thwack...�

The threat alone sounded too awful to imagine. Ron nodded, then fought another urge to puke his guts out on the floor when he did.

�I�m... not trying to hurt anyone,� he rasped, but Hagrid cut him off sharply.

�Professor Dumbledore�ll be the judge o� that! I�m warnin� yeh--one move, just one, and yeh�ll be seein� stars again!! Now I�m going to fetch Dumbledore, but when I get back here, yeh�d better still be in that bed, or I�ll-�

�Yes, yes,� Ron said, �I think I get the picture quite clearly, thanks...�

Not knowing whether to grip his stomach or his throbbing head, he wondered whether it were even physiologically possible to talk without any part of his body moving.

�Trust me... I won�t be going anywhere anytime soon...�

Apparently satisfied with his answer, Hagrid let out a grunt in affirmation, then walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Ron felt at the back of his head, wracking his brain to remember the healing spell that was commonly used for concussions. He was sure he had one. There was a bump the size of a baby�s fist on his crown; he recoiled instinctively when his fingers brushed over the sore spot, hissing a curse word he was awfully happy Hermione was not around to hear.

Hermione.

Oh God, the time-turner...

He sat bolt upright (not a good idea in retrospect, but he managed to steel his stomach quickly enough) and looked for the window. He found it just in time for the sun�s rays hit him right in the eyes, and he had to shield them for a second, before his eyes could adjust.

He craned his neck to look at the position of the sun in the sky, and for the second time this morning, he swore. Roundly. Not a cloud was in the sky, giving him a perfect, unobstructed view of the sun, which was burning away directly above at its mid-day position. Which meant it was around noon. And from what he could gather by Hagrid�s words earlier, he seemed to have been out cold for quite a while now.

His twenty-four hours had passed.

In his rookie days, he might have panicked, but somehow, his experienced, veteran mindset kicked in, and he forced himself to hold it together in that instant. He had to, if he was ever going to come up with a way to get the hell out of here and back into his own time again.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it... The plan had been so simple. He had worked everything out to the very last detail. Nothing was supposed to go wrong. But now Snape was dead again--because of him, because he had failed to fight Voldemort off in time--and Hagrid was moments away from telling Dumbledore of the stranger trespassing on Hogwarts grounds. Worse, he may have inadvertently placed his best friend in even more danger now that he had been in before he had royally fouled everything up.

And then the harshest of the realities knifed at him once again: not only had he made one hell of a bloody mess here in the past, he had now lost his only chance of getting back to his own time. He shuddered at the thought of it. He might never see his wife and children ever again.

The door swung open moments later, jolting him out of his thoughts. Hagrid lumbered in, muttering something Ron couldn�t quite make out, followed by Dumbledore who stood just behind his gamekeeper. Ron held his breath at the sight of his old headmaster. He had expected for this moment to be surreal; what he hadn�t expected, however, was for it to be this emotional.

Seeing him again--alive, and strong, and so full of life--Ron never in a million years thought he would get this chance. He and Hermione hadn�t been able to be there when Dumbledore had passed away; it was Harry who had been at his side at the very end, Harry who had had the chance to say goodbye to him for all three of them.

�There �e is, Professor,� Hagrid said. �Found �im lurkin� around the grounds last night... With all the things goin� on, I figured we couldn� be too safe...�

Dumbledore gave him a smile of approval and patted him on the shoulder. �Thank you, Hagrid. You were right to be concerned...�

Ron swallowed hard. If Dumbledore approved of Hagrid knocking him out, what in the world would Dumbledore himself do to him? Slowly, he began to straighten, careful to watch Hagrid�s reaction in case he took exception with any sudden moves on Ron�s part. Dumbledore was watching him, his eyes crinkled in a thoughtful manner. It wasn�t anger that shone in his eyes, nor even suspicion, really. If Ron didn�t know better, he would almost guess it was... recognition.

Of course, it would be silly to think that Dumbledore would know who he was... wouldn�t it? Sure, he had the same red hair, the same long nose, the same smile, and even some freckles that had lingered into adulthood, though much more faint than they had been in his childhood. But he was also forty-five years old now--a husband, a father, a man who had lived a whole lifetime since Dumbledore had last seen him. For Dumbledore to see through all that and figure out who he was seemed damned near impossible.

And yet, from the way the old man was looking at him, Ron wondered if that was the case indeed.

�I would�ve dun a full body lock curse on �im, Professor,� Hagrid said, �but I figured I�d wait till yeh saw �im first.�

Dumbledore chuckled. �No, that won�t be necessary, Hagrid. I can take it from here. Would you mind giving us a chance to talk alone?�

Hagrid shot him an incredulous look. �Are yeh sure?�

�Yes, quite positive, thank you.�

�Well...� Hagrid scratched the top of his head; clearly he was hesitant to leave Dumbledore alone with Ron, but as everyone knew, Dumbledore knew what he was doing at all times. �All righ�, sir. If yeh feel tha�s best...�

�Thank you, Hagrid.�

Hagrid nodded, then with one last threatening look at Ron (most probably, Ron speculated, to remind him that Hagrid still had means of disarming him if necessary), he walked out of the cabin. Dumbledore then turned his attention back to Ron, who suddenly felt very exposed and absolutely clueless about where to go from here.

�Well, I think we can assume you�re not of any threat to anyone,� he said.

Ron blinked back at him in surprise. �I... no, I�m not... Professor...�

�But I would still like to know who you are, and what you were doing on the grounds late at night,� Dumbledore said. �Hagrid does have a point. We can�t be too careful these days.�

Ron took a deep breath, readying himself to launch into his prepared speech. Only now, the speech would have to be reworked entirely, and he just hoped--prayed--that however it came out, he wouldn�t end up looking like a raving lunatic.

�I... Professor, what I�m about to tell you is going to sound completely outrageous, and... I know you might not believe me, but it is the truth...�

Dumbledore furrowed his brow and leaned in a little closer. Suddenly, Ron felt like an eleven year old again.

�Go on,� he said.

�I come from the future,� Ron began, cringing already at his choice of words, but he forced himself to continue. �Thirty years hence... In my future, Volde--You-know-who--had been defeated, and the wizarding world had been safe ever since. But someone, one of his supporters, got hold of a time-turner and returned to the past...�

�To change history,� Dumbledore said.

Ron nodded. �Whoever this was went to You-know-who and... told him of Snape�s betrayal...�

At this, Dumbledore�s eyes darkened. Ron knew that he had guessed what was coming.

�He found out everything, Professor,� Ron said. �Snape, the Order of the Phoenix--everything... He�s... killed Snape, sir. And now he�s going to go after Harry.�

Dumbledore let out a single breath and closed his eyes. For a long time, he held them closed, and Ron waited for him to register the words before saying anything else.

At last, he said, �I�ve been sent here to tell you of what�s happened. And to let you know that... if Voldemort succeeds in going after Harry... everything as we have known it will be destroyed forever...�

Ron watched Dumbledore, waiting for his reaction. The headmaster shut his eyes again, then bowed his head, and after some time had passed he said simply, �Nothing can happen to Harry. I�ll make sure of that.�

�I know,� Ron said softly. �That�s why I came to you, Professor.�

Suddenly, Dumbledore turned back to him, regarding him with curiosity. �I know you... don�t I?�

Ron smiled, then he nodded slowly. �Yes sir,� he said. �I�m Ron Weasley.�

�Why aren�t you saying anything? Damn it, why aren�t you saying anything-�

�Jack... Jack, calm down...�

Foster took hold of Jack�s arm, but Jack shrugged his hand off. His mind was already racing with what this could only mean. And he didn�t want to be right. By God, he had never wanted to be more wrong in his life.

�No!!� he said. �Sir, with all due respect, I won�t bloody calm down!! I need to know what�s going on... Why did you ask me to come here?�

Just then, his eye caught movement a few feet away. It was Reese, who had apparently been watching them, and turned away just as Jack looked up to see her staring. There was an Auror crouched down beside her, and she seemed to be moving in front of him to conceal him, but she didn�t move quickly enough. Jack�s breath caught in his throat as he saw a dark mass at the other Auror�s feet, what looked to be a cloak of some kind--or what used to be one. Then he turned back to Foster.

�You�ve found something, haven�t you?� he said, the words barely getting out. He made a move get a closer look, but Foster pulled him back.

�Wait a minute, Jack, we need to talk first...�

�What do you mean we need to talk first? You�re not answering any of my questions!! Something�s going on here, and I�m sure as hell not going to just stand around while you-�

�All right,� Foster said. �You�re right, you deserve to know the truth.� He sighed, then eventually, let go of Jack�s arm. �We found remains of a human body on these grounds. The person must have been trapped in the fire...�

Oh God... Oh God, this couldn�t be happening...

Jack�s eyes flew towards the Auror that was crouched down by the remains of the dark cloak, his heart pounding away against his ribcage, so hard, so fast that he could barely catch his breath. And as he struggled to process the words, he heard Foster start to speak.

�I�m sorry,� Foster said. �I�m so sorry... I wish I didn�t have to be the one to tell you this...�

He whipped his head around to look back at Foster. �What are you saying? What are you telling me??�

�We have reason to believe... that your father defied orders to go straight to Hogwarts to warn Dumbledore, and that he came here first to try to save Snape-�

�No,� Jack said, and even as he shook his head, everything inside of him was knew that Foster was telling him the truth. This was his father. Of course he would not be able to stand by while an innocent man died. �No, you�ve made a mistake... He wouldn�t have-�

�Jack, it was him... He must have tried to come here, he must have tried to do something, but he was caught in the fire...�

�No... No...�

Foster motioned Reese to come towards them, and slowly she did, and when she reached them, she handed something to Foster. And it was only then that Jack realized in horror what it was, as it caught a beam of sunlight that bounced off its smooth surface: it was a gold band.

�We found this... near the body...�

With trembling hands, Jack took it, not wanting to look at it, especially at the inscription inside, because he knew exactly what it was.

R.W. & H.G. 6 Jan 2001

Jack felt his entire body go numb.