Chapter 25: Tempus Perdit

Author�s Note: �tempus perdit� is Latin for �losing time�

If only he had had one of his father�s prized Sneakoscopes with him.

In the whirlwind of the last few hours, Jack had barely had the chance to pause for breath, much less string together more than one coherent thought, and so it had never even occurred to him to bring along one of the blasted things when he and Uncle Harry had stormed down to the Improper Use of Magic Office. But he was certain that if only he had been able to sneak one in, they would have been able to get close to some semblance of the truth--whatever the hell the truth was at this point--and then Keating�s bold declaration would have never thrown them for a loop the way it did.

Dad�s Sneakoscopes never lied. If he had had one of them with him, every imaginable siren would have gone off the moment the words had tumbled forth from Keating�s mouth. The bloody thing would have been whirring and wailing away madly for sure, spinning around like crazy in the palm of his hand, and he would have had some sort of confirmation--however small it might have been--that his instincts were right on target. He knew they were right.

Yet Keating had seemed so convincing in his office. He actually seemed to have been telling the truth when he announced, without so much as even a flicker of surprise or emotion, that there had never been a theft in the first place. Jack was well aware that natural-born politicians such as Keating spent their entire careers perfecting the art of packaging the truth for public consumption, but even he had almost believed the old wizard for that single fraction of a second.

Almost, but not quite.

At first glance, the whole lot of it certainly seemed to make sense, even he would be forced to admit as much. The once-jumbled pieces that Jack had been struggling to put back together all this time all of the sudden seemed to fit so nicely now--seamlessly, perfectly. As if there had never been a bloody puzzle to begin with. It was almost too effortless, Jack thought. Too easily explained away, like a fancy slight of hand. And that was exactly why it all felt so very wrong.

He�d been over it a thousand times in his head, and still, he just couldn�t work out why the missing time-turner would turn up now, after having been gone all this time. Nor did it make any sense at all that Herbert Crane, who�d spent weeks vehemently denying that he had stashed the all-important evidence, swearing on oath upon oath and holding up against the barrage of questioning that would have made even the strongest man wilt, would now reverse his story entirely--so that it no longer corroborated what little they�d been able to confirm up till this point.

It had not escaped Jack�s attention that the timing of all this seemed suspicious to say the least. He�d have to be absolutely blind not to notice that everything had gone down all at once--just as he and Uncle Harry seemed closer than ever to uncovering what had happened at Gringotts.

It was just all too convenient. Much too convenient. If only he could prove it.

He couldn�t care less that the case was now officially closed. Keating had taken steps to remove the Auror unit from the matter altogether, but Jack wasn�t about to let that stop him getting to the truth. However neatly-resolved and tucked away Keating may have wanted them to believe things were now, still nothing would change the fact that Snape�s letter had been real. That much was fact. Someone from their time had indeed gone back into the past and changed everything; Jack needed no further evidence of it. He could see it himself every day that Uncle Harry got worse, every day that Emily and Luke were barely holding on as well.

No one would ever be able to convince him that there hadn�t been some sort of foul play at work here, and he was going to do whatever he had to do to prove it. Being one of many Weasleys here at the Ministry certainly had its advantages, especially with Mum being so high up the ranks; he wasn�t above using whatever connections he had to make sure he left no stone unturned.

God help whoever might stand in his way.

Half past the hour. He knew it had been last minute when he�d called on Foster this morning after the encounter with Keating, but the reply that Foster had sent back by owl assured Jack that he would be there despite the short notice. With Jack�s luck, however, he was probably tied up at some sort of meeting right now, and he would have no choice but to sit tight and watch the second hand on the clock slowly tick by.

�Damn bureaucracy,� he muttered, flicking at the tip of a brand new quill he�d unwrapped just that morning.

�Keep doing that and you�ll get ink all over your fingers.�

Jack turned around, surprised to hear that familiar voice coming from his door, feeling a surge of guilt when he saw the way Uncle Harry was holding onto the frame for support--albeit subtly, as he surely would not have wanted Jack to know he was having trouble standing.

�It�s hell to wash ink off your hands,� he said.

Jack grinned. �That�s what cleaning spells are for, then.�

Uncle Harry chuckled softly and nodded.

�Right. Of course.�

He�d been in better shape this morning than Jack had seen him in weeks, but Jack reckoned that had had more to do with adrenalin than anything else, and now that it had surely begun to recede from his system, he looked tired and pale once more. Not wanting him to feel self-conscious, Jack deliberately turned his head to give him a chance to come inside without being watched. Jack could hear the sheer effort in his accelerated breathing, however, and he fought not to cringe at the sound of it.

�So,� Uncle Harry said, as he sank down onto the extra chair, �who exactly in the bureaucracy has the misfortune of being the target of your ire right now?�

Jack arched an eyebrow, tossing the quill back onto the desk. �Three guesses who.�

Uncle Harry nodded without saying anything, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the mountain of neglected papers on Jack�s desk, but in his silence, Jack could feel the frustration rising up inside him as well.

�That was quite a bombshell Keating dropped,� he said at last.

�He�s lying.�

Jack saw him look up, but before he could even get a word out in response, Jack pounced.

�He is, Uncle Harry, I know it-�

�Jack-�

�You don�t actually believe him, do you??�

�Of course not,� he said. �Relax, would you? I�m on your side. That�s why I�m here.�

Jack couldn�t help but groan at his words. How could he ever forgive himself for dragging Uncle Harry around everywhere, when the last thing he needed was to squander what energy he had left? If he had any kind of decency right now, he would tell Uncle Harry to go straight home and leave the dirty work to him.

�Get that look off your face.�

�What look?�

�That look,� Uncle Harry said, pointing a finger at him. �The oh no, Harry�s got himself in too deep again look. You think I haven�t seen it enough times on your parents to recognize it on you?�

�Well,� Jack began, �you should be resting-�

�What time is Foster supposed to meet with you?�

Jack blinked back at him. �What?�

�You are planning to meet with him, aren�t you?�

�How did-�

�If Keating�s going to slam the door in our faces,� Uncle Harry said, �then someone�s going to have to help us get around the� bureaucracy.�

Jack could do nothing but stare open-faced at him. This was insane. Absolutely insane. Uncle Harry had no business even being out of bed right now, let alone trying to help him in this. Mum and Dad would have his head if they knew what Uncle Harry was up to right now--and that Jack wasn�t doing a thing to stop him. Not that there was any way of stopping him when he�d put his mind to something. His parents had told him enough stories over the years that he knew full well Harry Potter was not one to be reckoned with.

Might as well go along for the ride, he thought. It was probably loads better than trying to fight Hurricane Harry, anyway.

�Don�t worry,� Uncle Harry said, his eyes twinkling slightly, as if to indicate that he had read Jack�s thoughts exactly, �I won�t breathe a word to your parents.�

Jack was about to respond with a glib reply, but Uncle Harry already beat him to it.

�You�ll be safe from any howlers for the time-being.�

It was well after dinner had already started that the trio finally broke from their celebration. Ron reckoned that in their giddiness, they�d probably been able to stave off any hunger that may have struck before now. But soon, thoughts of that evening�s roast chicken and the elves� famously-delicious pea soup were enough to make their mouths water, and after staying behind for a few moments to make sure that Hermione got back to his office safely, Ron followed the trio to the Great Hall.

Dinner was lively tonight, even with the students already starting to scatter to their respective dormitories, after having finished their meal. Those who were still left were abuzz with the weekend�s upcoming Hogsmeade excursion; Ron caught bits and pieces of conversation about Zonko�s and Honeydukes as he passed by the Gryffindor table. He�d even heard his younger self discussing it excitedly with young Hermione just now. They�d missed the last trip to Hogsmeade, Ron remembered, thanks to a memorable detention from Professor Sprout, and though the detention had had a good outcome in the end, his younger self was apparently quite anxious to make up for the small tragedy nevertheless.

It seemed so easy to get swept up in everyone�s enthusiasm, and for a while at least, Ron embraced the welcome respite from the nagging worries that skulked around in the back of his mind. He had been so busy trying to decide on what foods to sneak back to Hermione later that it wasn�t until he was about to sit at the staff table that he noticed there was one other professor who had come to have dinner here tonight as well, and it took all his willpower not to grimace when he caught sight of her.

�Professor Weasley� Dining here tonight, I see?�

Yeah, her Inner Eye is powerful all right, he thought. Powerful at seeing the obvious.

�Er, yes, Professor Trelawney,� he managed as politely as he could. He was just glad Hermione wasn�t here, or she�d surely be poking the hell out of his ribs right now, in lieu of saying whatever biting comment she�d be dying to make. �I don�t cook much.�

A bold-faced lie. But considering her less-than-stellar emphatic ability, he figured he would be safe.

Her bracelets clattered obnoxiously as she raised her arm to reach for the ladle floating in the terrine and filled her bowl with a second helping of pea soup.

�Well, you�re not alone, Professor,� she said. �I don�t cook much either.�

How terribly fascinating.

�So, how have you enjoyed your first month here?� she said. �I expect teaching must be loads easier than chasing werewolves in... where was it you said you had been again these past few years?�

Ron gulped down his soup. �Eastern Europe,� he said. Then, feeling impish, he elaborated. �Bulgaria, to be exact.�

�Ah� captivating place that is, Bulgaria. I visited there once as a young girl, you know.�

�Did you?�

He was sure his voice had been completely stripped of interest, but Professor Trelawney must not have noticed, because she went on.

�Oh yes, I was there for several months,� she said, �in an isolated castle in the inner depths of a desolate forest. It did wonders for my Inner Eye.�

Ron almost choked on his food, saved only by Harry covertly looking in his direction, clearly to check on him. As if in sympathy, he gave him a smile, which Ron returned, even as Professor Trelawney continued to drone on about one thing or another. As he had so often when he�d been in her class, he�d stopped listening to her.

And so he hadn�t noticed that she�d fallen silent beside him, not until he suddenly heard the ladle drop back into the terrine with a startling clank, sending soup splattering in all directions. As he wiped soup away from his cheek with his napkin, he caught sight of her in his periphery, still and quiet, and when he turned to look at her, his breath caught in his throat.

�P-Professor? Are you all right?�

But it was plain to see that she wasn�t.

She�d gone completely rigid, her arms locked at her sides, hands clenched into fists so tight that her knuckles were white. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, even as Ron moved to lean right in front of her, and suddenly, they began to roll back into her head until all he could see were the whites of his eyes.

�Oh my God��

He wasn�t the only one who had noticed that something had gone terribly wrong. The students who had stayed after dinner were starting to gather around them, and in the background he heard Dennis Creevey�s small voice yell out, �Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey!!�

Harry came up beside him and said in a voice low enough so that only Ron could hear, �I think she�s gone into a trance��

He looked at him in horror. �She�s what??�

But Harry only nodded in her direction, and just then, Professor Trelawney�s voice--or at least a voice that came from her body, though it sounded nothing like the one she normally had--broke through the low din of students murmuring amongst themselves.

�BEWARE THE FULL MOON...�

The hushed murmurs came to a halt in an instant. Not a single word came from anyone; the only sound coming from the students was the shuffling of feet as they fought to get closer and see just what was happening. Clearly no one knew what to make of Professor Trelawney�s present state, as she�d never done anything remotely like this before. It wasn�t exactly a well-kept secret at Hogwarts that Professor Trelawney was not to be taken seriously (though Lavender and Parvati, her most loyal of disciples, begged to differ), but even her most vocal critics were rendered speechless at that moment, most notably young Hermione, who was clinging to his younger self�s arm, riveted by the sight of Professor Trelawney�s trance.

�IT WILL HAPPEN ON THE FULL MOON...�

He heard young Hermione say to his younger self in a small, shaky voice, �That�s this Saturday� Ron, the next full moon is this Saturday!!�

The day of the Hogsmeade trip.

Ron felt his blood chill as he turned to Harry. He was standing stone-faced, even as all eyes were trained upon him. Everyone�s voices had begun to return one by one, and now a low rumble of whispering began to cut through the silence.

�HE-WHO-IS-TO-BE-FEARED IS ABOUT TO STRIKE AGAIN, AND HE WILL NOT BE APPEASED UNTIL HE HAS SHED THE BLOOD OF HIS ENEMY��

There was no mistaking whom Professor Trelawney meant. He saw Harry flinch involuntarily beside him, and almost reached a hand to touch his shoulder, when Professor Trelawney startled them all with more.

�ON THE NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON, HE WILL TRIUMPH AT LAST, AND THE BOY-WHO-LIVED SHALL MEET HIS DEATH IN THE DEPTHS OF THE DARK FOREST...�

A chorus of gasps spread among the students. Panicked outbursts of, Oh no!! and Poor Harry!! were punctuated only by Madam Pomfrey�s frantic voice carrying from the end of the corridor as she hurried towards the staff table.

�Out of my way, out of my way!! Where is she??�

Madam Pomfrey parted the crowd with an annoyed wave of her hand, and as they dispersed, still chattering about Professor Trelawney�s bizarre outburst and Harry�s impending doom, Ron managed to pull a still very shaken Harry aside, with his and Hermione�s younger selves looking on in concern.

�Are you all right?�

�Oh yes, just brilliant,� Harry said, apparently having found his voice again. �It�s good to know when you�re going to die, don�t you think?�

�Shut up and listen to me!� Ron hissed. �Look, you are not to leave this castle under any circumstances, do you understand?�

Apparently, the idea did not sit too well with Harry. �What? But what about-�

�You can forget about Hogsmeade,� Ron said, before Harry could even get the words out completely. �And don�t forget, I know all the secret passageways, so don�t even think of sneaking out with your cloak, either.�

�You can�t-�

�Guess again, Harry. I�ve had to miss sending my daughter off to Hogwarts for the first time so I could stay here and make sure you�re safe, and so help me, I am going to make damn sure it isn�t all in vain!�

Harry fell silent at that, and after a while, simply nodded. Not too far away, young Hermione and his younger self were sitting at the far end of the staff table, watching them intently. Hermione�s younger self looked especially upset, though Ron knew she probably had her doubts about whether Professor Trelawney�s prophecy could be believed or not. Ron quickly averted his eyes just when she tried to meet his gaze, and he returned his attention back to Harry.

�So,� Harry said quietly, resolutely, �what happens now?�

Ron let out a heavy exhale and said the only thing that made sense.

�We go to Dumbledore.�

�Jack, I�m afraid there�s nothing I can do, either...�

These were not the words Jack had wanted to hear. Not after he�d invested so much hope into counting on Ben Foster to pull his weight and collect on some favors that Jack knew several high-ranking officials owed him.

He hadn�t expected to be met with a roadblock this early in the game.

�My hands are tied,� Foster went on. �Keating�s going to fight us every step of the way on this one. Even if I tried to go over his head, he�s got Welby on his side.� He sighed and slumped back against the chair. �I can�t fight the Minister of Magic himself.�

Uncle Harry had been standing by the window all this time, his head hung low and his hand against the wall in what looked to be a pose of defeat, but what Jack knew full well was his way of bracing himself so that he could stand properly.

�Something isn�t right here,� he said finally, raising his head to look at them.

Jack could see what effort that must have taken, and it was all he could do not to go over to him to see that he was all right.

�It may all look on the surface as if it everything fits, but it just doesn�t. Why would Herbert Crane have ever wanted to keep that time-turner hidden? What would he have had to gain by keeping that particular one hidden, when the rest had already been confiscated? And even if he had had a reason to stash it away, why in the world would he turn it over now?�

Foster shook his head. �I don�t know, Mr. Potter,� he said. �It�s all bizarre, to say the least. There were times when I would sit with him for hours at a time, with him swearing up and down that he�d had nothing to do with any of it. And now he�s changing his story out of the blue! It just doesn�t make sense��

�Apparently Keating thinks it does,� Jack said. �Never mind that Crane�s new story isn�t even consistent with what we know.�

Uncle Harry straightened, with some noticeable difficulty, and said, �All right, so obviously we�re at a dead-end with the theft case. But there�s still the matter of the Gringotts break-in. Can�t we still pursue that avenue-�

He stopped so abruptly that both Jack and Foster took notice. For a few seconds, he didn�t even move, and when it seemed as if several minutes had passed and he was having trouble with just standing, Jack shot up from his chair, not even caring anymore if Uncle Harry was going to scold him for treating him with kid gloves; he needed help and there was no way Jack was going stand by and just watch.

�I�m fine-�

�The hell you are!� Jack growled, managing to grab hold of his arm just as he seemed to lose his footing.

�Should I go for a doctor?� Foster said.

�Yes!�

�No!�

Fortunately, Foster had already run out of the room before Uncle Harry had ever contradicted Jack, but in his frustration, Jack still blurted out, �Damn it, why are you fighting me when I�m only trying to help you here??�

Uncle Harry tried to wrench free of Jack�s hold, but it was clear he just didn�t have the strength. As Jack tightened his grip around his arm, a sick realization came over him: Uncle Harry was burning up. Jack could feel the heat even through the thick weave of his cloak.

�Oh my God,� he said, trying hard to keep himself together. �Oh my God, I need to get Aunt Ginny��

This time, Uncle Harry didn�t even fight him. He collapsed to the ground, crumpled to a fetal position, and Jack heard a terrible scream tear out from his own throat.

Young Ron and Hermione had wanted to come along to Dumbledore�s office, not wanting to let Harry out of their sights. But Harry had managed to come up with some excuse to keep them at bay--Ron couldn�t even remember what it was now, but it had worked well enough--and they reluctantly let him go off with Ron, even as young Hermione watched them for as long as she could, with terror-filled eyes that followed them until they disappeared around the corner.

At the last second, though, Harry seemed to lose his nerve.

Just when they�d reached the foot of the spiral staircase and Ron was about to say the password, Harry suddenly stopped and said, �Maybe� maybe this isn�t such a good idea, Ron��

�What�s the matter?�

He shook his head.

�I� just don�t think we need to bother him with this right now,� he said. �I mean, you know Trelawney� this was probably just another one of her hoaxes. It�s so close to Hallowe�en, and-�

�God, Harry, you don�t actually believe that, do you?�

Ron eyed him carefully, hoping for some sort of sign either way. Harry seemed to want to say yes, but they both knew it would have been an outright lie. And it seemed Harry finally came to this conclusion, because he began to take a few tentative steps that became more deliberate and confident as they approached the foot of the staircase.

�Trust me,� Ron said. �Just trust me.�

Harry said nothing and only nodded, staring straight ahead at the gargoyles. Ron gave the password (�Bertie Botts�), and a mighty rumble hummed beneath their feet as the staircase rose from the ground, twisting and turning towards the top of the tower. Ron turned one last time to make sure Harry would follow him, and together they stepped onto the first step and made their way to the headmaster�s office.

The door was unlocked, but still, Ron didn�t step in all the way just yet, only poking his head in and calling out for Dumbledore. There was no answer though, only a faint welcoming noise from Fawkes, and it was only when he had opened the door further that he stopped in his tracks.

Someone was in the office, all right. But it wasn�t Dumbledore.

It was his mother.