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apollaJust got done watching the Carling Homecoming concert by the Darkness.
I am becoming mucho in favour of these guys. Not least when lead singer/guitarist man Justin Hawkins says things like these:
On what he demands from bands he listens to: "People in tight trousers for a start. Willingness to display the top half of one's chest. Be prepared to sweat, work for your audience" (this is not a wholly accurate transcription cos I wasn't paying him full attention at the time.
Then the guy who plays the bass, Frankie Poullain says "There's always been something ridiculous about good rock music anyway."
Then Justin's brother Dan (guitarist) says of smashing up one's guitar: "We take our music very seriously... what we don't do is take ourselves seriously."
I think I have finally found some people who might help me save rock and roll. They're not Led Zeppelin and although the Brian Mayesque guitar sound rocks my socks, Justin's falsetto gets dead annoying sometimes. They're not perfect and they're not poets. Not yet. I shall give them time and a little faith and hope that these guys will help resurrect rock and roll. Or at least keep it stable until I come along.
Also, I now want a clear perspex guitar.
For your reading pleasure, the second half of Time After Time (split for length):
Part Two
"JIM!" Harry exclaimed. Jim was still with them, but the strange pulling sensation they'd felt two days previously told them that they had travelled forwards in time, although not to the right time.
"What? What?"
"Nineteen ninety seven, idiot!" Harry shouted angrily. Jim looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry. I forgot!"
"It's OK Jim, really. But... we're not going to have to wait another two days, are we?" asked Hermione. He shook his head.
"I don't think so." He examined the pen closely. "Only one day. Not so far in time, see?"
"Well, although it's late I think we should go and find Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "Again."
"I think you'll be going to see him right now," a new voice said. In the doorway stood a pretty girl with red hair and a slightly weak-looking boy with a grey streak in his hair.
Hermione recognised them at once and looked anxiously over at Harry. He looked like he was about to faint, but was looking down at the floor, perhaps so they didn't look at him and realise how much like he looked like one of their friends.
"I don't recognise you," said the girl whom Harry recognised as Lily Evans, his mother. "Who are you?"
"I really think it's best we speak to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said forcefully. She and Lily stared at each other for a moment in an odd battle of wills.
"Fine. Follow me. Remus, keep your wand on them at all times."
"Yes, Lily."
Lily marched them through the castle and most reluctantly knocked on Professor Dumbledore's door. It was not too late and he was not yet asleep. Once again, he did not look surprised to see them.
"Come in. Miss Evans, Mr Lupin, you may continue your rounds."
Lily looked like she wanted to object but followed Remus anyway. The three time travellers sat down with the Professor and explained it all.
"Yes, I thought you might be dropping in around about now. I remember Mr Morrison's excited chatter about it some twenty years ago."
"Professor, I'm quite concerned," Hermione said seriously. "About a few things. For a start, I'm sure it's quite obvious who Harry's father is because they look so alike and I'm worried about them bumping into each other over the course of the next day."
"Hmm. Mr Potter. You are now Harry Morrison and you are visiting us briefly."
Professor Dumbledore now looked at Jim, who was still bouncing a little at the thought of having travelled in time. Dumbledore did not look excited, he looked sad and Hermione was sure he knew what had happened to Jim.
"Mr Morrison, you will call yourself James Granger. You are Hermione's brother while you are in 1977, is that understood?"
"Yes Professor," he said, a little confused as to why he had to pretend too, but too excited to really care much.
"I'll take you to the guest rooms for tonight. You can spend tomorrow doing whatever you wish to do. A second Saturday in a row, something I'm told my students would love to have."
***
Hogwarts in 1977 did not look much different to Hogwarts in 1957 or 1997, and Harry suspected that it would not look much different in 2017. He just hoped he would be around to see it. He was overcome by a sudden, deep desire to take the pen and see his own future- whether he lived or died, whether he killed Voldemort or not, whether his friends lived or died in the war. He watched the water in the lake lap against the sand as it did in 1957 and 1997, and was filled with the need to know everything that was going to happen. As Hermione and Jim chattered about one obscure book or another, he sat, desperately needing to know who was going to win the war.
He didn't notice the Quaffle coming, and so was very surprised when it hit him in the head.
"Oi! Sorry about that!"
Dazed, Harry looked up to see a handsome young man of sixteen bounding towards him, black hair flopping in his eyes. His heart soared for a moment. Sirius.
Sixteen-year-old Sirius Black ran over. Harry grabbed the ball and handed it to him.
"Sorry about that," Sirius repeated. "Peter's a total butterfingers. Hey-"
Sirius stopped suddenly and looked at him closely as if he were sniffing out prey or something.
"You look just like my friend... Are you new here?"
"I'm visiting Professor Dumbledore. I'm Harry Morrison," he said, sticking a shaking hand out.
"I'm Sirius Black," Sirius told him in his cockiest voice. "I'm sure you've heard of me."
"The Professor has mentioned you," Harry said, simply staring at his godfather, alive, young and full of energy. He wanted so badly to hug him and never let go, but had a feeling Sirius might object.
Sirius smirked. "I'm sure he has. OI LUPIN! POTTER!"
Three boys of the same age came over and Harry knew them all. He'd met two of them in his own time, but the other had only ever been in his dreams and in a pensieve. That he could remember, anyway.
"This is Harry Morrison, visiting the Prof. Doesn't he look like you, Prongs?"
"Yeah. Not as handsome though," James joked. Peter laughed loudly, a little too loudly. Sirius, James and Harry all rolled their eyes.
"This is James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. They're my best mates in the whole world."
Harry now understood how Hermione had felt when she'd wanted to tell John Lennon that he would be shot dead on the street outside his own home. He wanted so badly to tell his father what was going to happen, to expose Peter as the betrayer he would become, to warn Sirius that one day his own cousin would kill him. He wanted desperately to tell them.
On cue, Hermione arrived.
"Hello," she said, also knowing exactly who these people were, having seen many pictures of them and having met three.
"This is Hermione," said Harry after a moment in which his father, his godfather, his former teacher and a future Death Eater looked approvingly at his girlfriend. "She's visiting too."
"So am I!" Jim chipped in. "I'm Hermione's little brother."
"Hello kid," said James. He introduced them to himself and his pals and would have continued speaking, but was interrupted by the arrival on the lakeside of Lily Evans and a group of her friends.
"Set it up over here," Lily instructed. "We might be able to get it to work this far away."
"Lily and her bloody record player," moaned Sirius. "She never shuts up about it."
"Shut up, Padfoot!" snapped James. "Need some help, Evans?"
"Not from you," she shot back immediately. Harry couldn't help but smile slightly now, knowing that James wasn't going to be defeated so easily, knowing that the Evans iceberg would melt one day soon.
"She loves me," James said dryly. Peter sniggered. Hermione, however, marched over to Lily and her friends.
"Why don't you try putting it under those trees? It's the furthest away you'll get without being off school grounds. It might work."
Lily nodded to her friends, who took the portable record player up away from the lake and into the shade. After a moment, the strains of Physical Graffiti by Led Zeppelin emanated from it. The redhead turned to the brunette with an approving smile.
"Thanks. Hey! You're the girl from last night."
"Hermione Granger. We're visiting Professor Dumbledore. So sorry about last night."
"Oh, it's all right. I just... I thought it was one of their diversions again. I could've sworn that boy over there was Potter."
Hermione stifled a grin.
"They do look alike. Strange, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's almost uncanny, really. Although your friend-"
"Harry."
"Harry isn't half as good looking as James... I mean, Potter."
Hermione could not help laughing now.
"Don't tell him I said that!" exclaimed Lily. "I'd never hear the end of it and his head does not need inflating any more. Deflating might help, though."
"I won't say a word," she promised. Jim ran over.
"Those boys asked Harry if he wanted to go to the Shrieking Shack with them!" he said. She looked over at where Harry was laughing along to some joke of James'.
"I don't see why not," she said. Lily looked sceptical.
"You don't know what kind of scrapes those idiots get into."
"Oh, Harry's the same. I'm sure he'll be fine. You can go with them if you like, Jim."
"No, no. I'd much rather stay here and be the sole focus of female attention."
Jim smiled at her so endearingly that it was hard not to return it.
"You look familiar," said Lily to Jim. "Do I know you?"
"This is my brother Jim," Hermione said quickly, praying that in that stack of records there weren't any by the Doors.
"Oh. All right. Must just be me."
***
Saturday night came quickly- too quickly for Harry, who had a great day with his father and his friends, and too quickly for Hermione, who found in Lily another likeminded soul. It also came too quickly for Jim, who knew that time with his new friends was running out quickly.
Professor Dumbledore arrived in the Charms classroom just before they were about to set off.
"I have been working on and off on this time machine idea," he said. "Ever since young James here came to me in 1957. I have the solution to the power problem."
He quickly explained to Jim a charm he'd devised that would help the pen retain the power it needed to transport people from one time to another. After a couple of practices, Jim had the time pen ready.
"Can I... I'd like to take you back to 1997 and then go back to my own time. Is that all right?" he asked anxiously. Harry, in a very good mood after his day with the Marauders, nodded. Dumbledore stood back and watched curiously as Jim began the spell.
"Remember Jim, 1997," said Harry. Jim nodded and wrote '14th April 1997.'
***
"Are we back?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, there's your bag. There's my half-finished Potions homework. We're back. We're finally back!"
Their moment of joy was short-lived however, when they saw the sad little boy sat on a desk looking at them mournfully.
"Jim, you have to go back now," Hermione told him gently.
"But why?" he asked in a most unbecoming whine. Hermione went and sat beside him.
"You've already seen the future. Two futures, now. Surely that's enough. It's like John said, you don't want to know the future because that takes the fun out of living it."
"He said that?" Jim asked. Hermione nodded.
"He did say that. You know he's right."
"Yeah," he said in a sad voice. "But you won't forget about me?"
"Oh Jimmy," she said with a laugh. "I guarantee you that we won't ever forget you."
"Promise?" he asked, seeming much younger now than he really was.
"James Douglas Morrison, I assure you that nobody will forget you."
"All right," he said, cheered up a little by this. He wrapped his arms around Hermione and hugged her tightly.
"You have to go now," said Harry, feeling inexplicably jealous of the boy and yet strangely attached just the same. Hermione suddenly jumped up and pulled him aside.
"Harry... Are you sure... I can't tell him anything?"
"He has to make his own choices, Hermione," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "He has to decide for himself what is easy and what is right."
"I know but... he's such a sweet boy and..." she sniffed. "You're right. You're right. OK."
"Come on Jim, get yourself ready. And remember what you promised Professor Dumbledore," Harry told him firmly.
"That once I get back I give him the time pen," he recited sulkily. Hermione smiled sweetly at him and handed him the magical pen.
"Here you are," she said. "Good luck, Jim. Don't forget that you want the sixteenth now, not the fourteenth."
"Fine, fine. I'm going." Jim started up his spell, shot one last grin at them and wrote '16th April 1957' on the pad. A moment later he, and his magical pen, were gone.
Hermione sat down.
"That was a very strange few Saturdays."
"You're right there. Perhaps we should just go to bed before anything else can happen to us."
"I think that's best. How was your day with Sirius, sweetie?" she asked as they walked back to the tower arm in arm- the first time they'd really spent alone in days, although it had, in 1997, only been ten minutes.
"It was... very cool," he said, marvelling at how Hermione had understood it had been more important to him to spend the day with his godfather who he had known and loved than the father he loved but did not remember.
"I'm sure it was nice to spend the day with James too," she added. He nodded.
"Did you have a nice time with my mum?"
"Yes. Did you know she was once in love with Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin? Seems she had a thing for dark haired men."
"I think that's good to know," he said with a smile. "Who is Led Zeppelin?"
"Never mind."
***
Hogwarts, June 1998
"Harry?" asked Hermione. The Head Girl and her boyfriend were sitting by the lake at Hogwarts. Night had long since fallen and they were in contravention of several school rules. Not that they cared much, even Hermione, because in one week they would leave school behind forever.
"Yes?"
"I was thinking the other day-"
"You? Thinking? Perish the thought."
"Oh be quiet, silly. No, I was thinking about last year. Our time travel escapade."
"What about it?"
"Well, do you think that Jim remembered us at all?"
"I don't know, Hermione. He became a big drugged out rock star. I'm not sure he remembered his own name sometimes."
"Don't be mean," she said huffily.
"I'm not being mean. Realistic. You know I read all that stuff about him once we got back the same as you did. He got really messed up, Hermione."
"I... I suppose. But I was just thinking... We did have fun, didn't we? The things we saw in 1957 and 1977! John Lennon was a prefect!"
"I know, love. We did have fun," he said, thinking of a glorious sunny day in April 1977 when the biggest worry Sirius Black had was whether he could steal Severus Snape's entire underwear collection without getting caught. Sensing his downturn to melancholy, Hermione snuggled closer to him.
***
The day came a week later for Harry, Hermione and their friends to leave Hogwarts and Harry Potter was terrified. The only life he knew outside the school was with the Dursleys. Everyone in the wizard world was clamouring to get Harry Potter to work for them. He'd taken an apprenticeship with the Chudley Cannons, although he knew he'd likely have to push it to one side for war work very soon. Hermione was off to research time travel for the Ministry in addition to fighting the war with him. Ron too, had won a hard-earned apprenticeship with the Cannons and was over the moon about it. Yet, the war still hung over them like a huge black storm cloud, threatening to burst at any time.
"Harry! Pay attention!" whispered Hermione, jolting him from his thoughts. He turned his attention back to Professor Dumbledore's farewell-and-good-luck speech.
Once the speech was over and the leaving feast eaten, the departing Seventh years went up to their dorms for their final night at school. Harry and Hermione walked slowly arm in arm down a corridor they'd walked a million times, trying to make it last a little longer.
"Harry! Harry, over here!" hissed a voice from the shadow. Harry froze. He knew that voice. He couldn't place it, but he knew it.
"Come here!" it whispered again. Hermione turned now to see why Harry had stopped.
"Hermione," the voice called, still shrouded by the shadows. She too, recognised the voice.
"Jim?" she croaked, disbelieving. When the corridor had entirely emptied of people, Jim Morrison stepped out of the shadows. Hermione nearly fainted.
This was not the cocky young thirteen-year-old boy they remembered. This was a grown man of about twenty five. He had a mane of dark brown hair that fell below his shoulders in messy curls and waves. He was wearing a white shirt tucked into a pair of black leather trousers which were a little tighter than propriety allowed. This was the Jim Morrison of Legend, the Jim that they had both researched on their return from their time travel adventure. The Jim Morrison they had know was a thirteen year old 'mad genius' with few friends. This was the Lizard King.
"Jim?" she repeated dumbly.
"Hi," he said with that familiar grin. She recovered enough to scold him.
"What are you doing here? Didn't you learn anything? You were supposed to give that to Professor Dumbledore! Honestly Jim, you should-"
He silenced her with a bear hug that lifted her off her feet. Harry felt that pang of jealousy again, sharper now that Jim was a handsome rock star instead of slightly awkward adolescent. He squashed it quickly- Jim did not belong here and would not be staying.
"Hey Harry," Jim said with a more manly slap on the back.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. "You were meant to give that pen to Dumbledore."
"I did. The night before I left school, I went and got it back."
"Did you ask for it?" Hermione asked him. His face coloured slightly.
"Not really. More a sort of sneaking into his office and taking it sort of thing."
"Why aren't I surprised?" Harry asked with a smile, really quite pleased to see him.
"How are you Jim?" Hermione asked. "Are you looking after yourself? You're living in California now, aren't you? I mean, what have you been doing? Why am I asking, I already know-" she stopped abruptly. "You didn't forget us?"
Jim smiled, "no. You didn't forget me?"
"I told you, Jim, we won't ever forget you."
"I'm glad. I just... I was in London with my band- hey, I have a band now! We're called the Doors and we're doing really well!"
"I know, Jim," she said with a smile. He nodded.
"Of course you do! Anyway, we were playing in London and, well I haven't been feeling too well, so I got a bit of time off and got on a train and ended up here. I worked out when you'd be leaving school and... here I am. I wanted to congratulate you."
"Thanks," Harry said, flattered more than he realised that this lofty rock star went to such trouble for him, even though this whole situation was particularly surreal.
"I just... I wanted to tell you that... Well, the time we spent in my time and the other time... It was some of the most fun I ever, ever had. Thank you."
Jim seemed very much to be like that somewhat shy little boy again. Hermione hugged him.
"It was some of the most fun I ever had too."
"Me too," Harry admitted. Jim beamed at them.
"I should... go, I suppose. I'll give the pen to Professor Dumbledore. He's at the school in 1968, right?"
"Yes," replied Harry. "Same office and everything, I expect."
"Good. I kinda... snuck in. I'll give it to him or... stamp on it or something. I promise. I just wanted... I wanted to see you both again."
"We're glad you came Jim, but you know you shouldn't be here," she said, feeling that desperate desire to tell him his future again. She stared at him for a long time. He returned the stare and she hoped something was getting through on brainwaves.
He hugged her again.
"Please Jim," she whispered. "Look after yourself. Please."
"Of course I will," he said confidently. "I'm the Lizard King, man."
"Not to me," she said obstinately. "You are little Jimmy and you aren't above a scolding from the Head Girl."
"All right," he said, flashing her another grin. Now he grabbed Harry and hugged him.
"Thanks Harry, man. Look after our girl, won't you?"
"I will."
"Hey, I always wanted to ask. That red head girl in '77, she was your mother, right?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. She had the same kinda vibe..."
"Vibe?" Harry asked.
"All you need is love," Jim said with a wink. "A good friend of mine said that. You know, I still owe him detention time?"
"I'm not surprised."
"Funny how life worked out, huh? I'm glad you didn't tell me my future, the man was right about that. I'll tell John if I see him. And now, it's time for me to go. I've still got to get back to London, you know."
"All right. Take care, Jim," said Harry. Hermione stood, biting her lip.
"See ya Hermione," Jim said with a wink and a grin. He scribbled a date on the pad and was quickly gone.
"No. No you won't," she said, promptly bursting into tears. She looked up at Harry.
"I have to know if he kept his promise," she said desperately through her tears.
"I've got one of your books in my room," he said. "Let's go and have a look."
They broke into a run and bounded up the stairs into the tower. Although people called after them, they ignored all, even Ron and ran up towards Harry's dorm.
"Wonder what they're up to?" he asked with a smirk, getting rather the wrong end of the stick.
***
They burst into Harry's room and he grabbed at the book open on his bed.
"What does it say? What does it say?" she demanded.
"Wait a sec..." he said as he flicked through the pages. His heart sank and he showed her a picture of a grave in Paris. It still read 1971.
"He didn't listen to me," she said. "He didn't listen."
"No," he replied sadly. "But you just saw that even the great rock star didn't forget us. He didn't forget you. I was pretty jealous, you know."
"I know," she said with a sniff and a smile. "I was going to tease you about it but I thought that might be a little mean of me."
"It would've been, yes. Come on, let's go downstairs. I'm sure everyone's thinking we're mad."
"You are mad," she retorted with a smile. He wiped the tears from her eyes and led her out of the dorm and back down the stairs.
"That was quick," said Dean. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. Ron noticed the tear tracks on her face.
"Everything all right?" he asked. She nodded.
"What's up?" Harry asked, pointing to the glasses of Butterbeer laid out.
"Ah, we're about to drink a toast," Seamus told them.
"To the future," added Neville. Hermione looked at Harry with a bittersweet smile, the scent Jim had been wearing in 1968 still lingering on her shirt from his hugs.
"To the future," she repeated.
***
The End.
I am becoming mucho in favour of these guys. Not least when lead singer/guitarist man Justin Hawkins says things like these:
On what he demands from bands he listens to: "People in tight trousers for a start. Willingness to display the top half of one's chest. Be prepared to sweat, work for your audience" (this is not a wholly accurate transcription cos I wasn't paying him full attention at the time.
Then the guy who plays the bass, Frankie Poullain says "There's always been something ridiculous about good rock music anyway."
Then Justin's brother Dan (guitarist) says of smashing up one's guitar: "We take our music very seriously... what we don't do is take ourselves seriously."
I think I have finally found some people who might help me save rock and roll. They're not Led Zeppelin and although the Brian Mayesque guitar sound rocks my socks, Justin's falsetto gets dead annoying sometimes. They're not perfect and they're not poets. Not yet. I shall give them time and a little faith and hope that these guys will help resurrect rock and roll. Or at least keep it stable until I come along.
Also, I now want a clear perspex guitar.
For your reading pleasure, the second half of Time After Time (split for length):
Part Two
"JIM!" Harry exclaimed. Jim was still with them, but the strange pulling sensation they'd felt two days previously told them that they had travelled forwards in time, although not to the right time.
"What? What?"
"Nineteen ninety seven, idiot!" Harry shouted angrily. Jim looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry. I forgot!"
"It's OK Jim, really. But... we're not going to have to wait another two days, are we?" asked Hermione. He shook his head.
"I don't think so." He examined the pen closely. "Only one day. Not so far in time, see?"
"Well, although it's late I think we should go and find Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "Again."
"I think you'll be going to see him right now," a new voice said. In the doorway stood a pretty girl with red hair and a slightly weak-looking boy with a grey streak in his hair.
Hermione recognised them at once and looked anxiously over at Harry. He looked like he was about to faint, but was looking down at the floor, perhaps so they didn't look at him and realise how much like he looked like one of their friends.
"I don't recognise you," said the girl whom Harry recognised as Lily Evans, his mother. "Who are you?"
"I really think it's best we speak to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said forcefully. She and Lily stared at each other for a moment in an odd battle of wills.
"Fine. Follow me. Remus, keep your wand on them at all times."
"Yes, Lily."
Lily marched them through the castle and most reluctantly knocked on Professor Dumbledore's door. It was not too late and he was not yet asleep. Once again, he did not look surprised to see them.
"Come in. Miss Evans, Mr Lupin, you may continue your rounds."
Lily looked like she wanted to object but followed Remus anyway. The three time travellers sat down with the Professor and explained it all.
"Yes, I thought you might be dropping in around about now. I remember Mr Morrison's excited chatter about it some twenty years ago."
"Professor, I'm quite concerned," Hermione said seriously. "About a few things. For a start, I'm sure it's quite obvious who Harry's father is because they look so alike and I'm worried about them bumping into each other over the course of the next day."
"Hmm. Mr Potter. You are now Harry Morrison and you are visiting us briefly."
Professor Dumbledore now looked at Jim, who was still bouncing a little at the thought of having travelled in time. Dumbledore did not look excited, he looked sad and Hermione was sure he knew what had happened to Jim.
"Mr Morrison, you will call yourself James Granger. You are Hermione's brother while you are in 1977, is that understood?"
"Yes Professor," he said, a little confused as to why he had to pretend too, but too excited to really care much.
"I'll take you to the guest rooms for tonight. You can spend tomorrow doing whatever you wish to do. A second Saturday in a row, something I'm told my students would love to have."
***
Hogwarts in 1977 did not look much different to Hogwarts in 1957 or 1997, and Harry suspected that it would not look much different in 2017. He just hoped he would be around to see it. He was overcome by a sudden, deep desire to take the pen and see his own future- whether he lived or died, whether he killed Voldemort or not, whether his friends lived or died in the war. He watched the water in the lake lap against the sand as it did in 1957 and 1997, and was filled with the need to know everything that was going to happen. As Hermione and Jim chattered about one obscure book or another, he sat, desperately needing to know who was going to win the war.
He didn't notice the Quaffle coming, and so was very surprised when it hit him in the head.
"Oi! Sorry about that!"
Dazed, Harry looked up to see a handsome young man of sixteen bounding towards him, black hair flopping in his eyes. His heart soared for a moment. Sirius.
Sixteen-year-old Sirius Black ran over. Harry grabbed the ball and handed it to him.
"Sorry about that," Sirius repeated. "Peter's a total butterfingers. Hey-"
Sirius stopped suddenly and looked at him closely as if he were sniffing out prey or something.
"You look just like my friend... Are you new here?"
"I'm visiting Professor Dumbledore. I'm Harry Morrison," he said, sticking a shaking hand out.
"I'm Sirius Black," Sirius told him in his cockiest voice. "I'm sure you've heard of me."
"The Professor has mentioned you," Harry said, simply staring at his godfather, alive, young and full of energy. He wanted so badly to hug him and never let go, but had a feeling Sirius might object.
Sirius smirked. "I'm sure he has. OI LUPIN! POTTER!"
Three boys of the same age came over and Harry knew them all. He'd met two of them in his own time, but the other had only ever been in his dreams and in a pensieve. That he could remember, anyway.
"This is Harry Morrison, visiting the Prof. Doesn't he look like you, Prongs?"
"Yeah. Not as handsome though," James joked. Peter laughed loudly, a little too loudly. Sirius, James and Harry all rolled their eyes.
"This is James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. They're my best mates in the whole world."
Harry now understood how Hermione had felt when she'd wanted to tell John Lennon that he would be shot dead on the street outside his own home. He wanted so badly to tell his father what was going to happen, to expose Peter as the betrayer he would become, to warn Sirius that one day his own cousin would kill him. He wanted desperately to tell them.
On cue, Hermione arrived.
"Hello," she said, also knowing exactly who these people were, having seen many pictures of them and having met three.
"This is Hermione," said Harry after a moment in which his father, his godfather, his former teacher and a future Death Eater looked approvingly at his girlfriend. "She's visiting too."
"So am I!" Jim chipped in. "I'm Hermione's little brother."
"Hello kid," said James. He introduced them to himself and his pals and would have continued speaking, but was interrupted by the arrival on the lakeside of Lily Evans and a group of her friends.
"Set it up over here," Lily instructed. "We might be able to get it to work this far away."
"Lily and her bloody record player," moaned Sirius. "She never shuts up about it."
"Shut up, Padfoot!" snapped James. "Need some help, Evans?"
"Not from you," she shot back immediately. Harry couldn't help but smile slightly now, knowing that James wasn't going to be defeated so easily, knowing that the Evans iceberg would melt one day soon.
"She loves me," James said dryly. Peter sniggered. Hermione, however, marched over to Lily and her friends.
"Why don't you try putting it under those trees? It's the furthest away you'll get without being off school grounds. It might work."
Lily nodded to her friends, who took the portable record player up away from the lake and into the shade. After a moment, the strains of Physical Graffiti by Led Zeppelin emanated from it. The redhead turned to the brunette with an approving smile.
"Thanks. Hey! You're the girl from last night."
"Hermione Granger. We're visiting Professor Dumbledore. So sorry about last night."
"Oh, it's all right. I just... I thought it was one of their diversions again. I could've sworn that boy over there was Potter."
Hermione stifled a grin.
"They do look alike. Strange, isn't it?"
"Yes. It's almost uncanny, really. Although your friend-"
"Harry."
"Harry isn't half as good looking as James... I mean, Potter."
Hermione could not help laughing now.
"Don't tell him I said that!" exclaimed Lily. "I'd never hear the end of it and his head does not need inflating any more. Deflating might help, though."
"I won't say a word," she promised. Jim ran over.
"Those boys asked Harry if he wanted to go to the Shrieking Shack with them!" he said. She looked over at where Harry was laughing along to some joke of James'.
"I don't see why not," she said. Lily looked sceptical.
"You don't know what kind of scrapes those idiots get into."
"Oh, Harry's the same. I'm sure he'll be fine. You can go with them if you like, Jim."
"No, no. I'd much rather stay here and be the sole focus of female attention."
Jim smiled at her so endearingly that it was hard not to return it.
"You look familiar," said Lily to Jim. "Do I know you?"
"This is my brother Jim," Hermione said quickly, praying that in that stack of records there weren't any by the Doors.
"Oh. All right. Must just be me."
***
Saturday night came quickly- too quickly for Harry, who had a great day with his father and his friends, and too quickly for Hermione, who found in Lily another likeminded soul. It also came too quickly for Jim, who knew that time with his new friends was running out quickly.
Professor Dumbledore arrived in the Charms classroom just before they were about to set off.
"I have been working on and off on this time machine idea," he said. "Ever since young James here came to me in 1957. I have the solution to the power problem."
He quickly explained to Jim a charm he'd devised that would help the pen retain the power it needed to transport people from one time to another. After a couple of practices, Jim had the time pen ready.
"Can I... I'd like to take you back to 1997 and then go back to my own time. Is that all right?" he asked anxiously. Harry, in a very good mood after his day with the Marauders, nodded. Dumbledore stood back and watched curiously as Jim began the spell.
"Remember Jim, 1997," said Harry. Jim nodded and wrote '14th April 1997.'
***
"Are we back?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, there's your bag. There's my half-finished Potions homework. We're back. We're finally back!"
Their moment of joy was short-lived however, when they saw the sad little boy sat on a desk looking at them mournfully.
"Jim, you have to go back now," Hermione told him gently.
"But why?" he asked in a most unbecoming whine. Hermione went and sat beside him.
"You've already seen the future. Two futures, now. Surely that's enough. It's like John said, you don't want to know the future because that takes the fun out of living it."
"He said that?" Jim asked. Hermione nodded.
"He did say that. You know he's right."
"Yeah," he said in a sad voice. "But you won't forget about me?"
"Oh Jimmy," she said with a laugh. "I guarantee you that we won't ever forget you."
"Promise?" he asked, seeming much younger now than he really was.
"James Douglas Morrison, I assure you that nobody will forget you."
"All right," he said, cheered up a little by this. He wrapped his arms around Hermione and hugged her tightly.
"You have to go now," said Harry, feeling inexplicably jealous of the boy and yet strangely attached just the same. Hermione suddenly jumped up and pulled him aside.
"Harry... Are you sure... I can't tell him anything?"
"He has to make his own choices, Hermione," he said firmly, but not unkindly. "He has to decide for himself what is easy and what is right."
"I know but... he's such a sweet boy and..." she sniffed. "You're right. You're right. OK."
"Come on Jim, get yourself ready. And remember what you promised Professor Dumbledore," Harry told him firmly.
"That once I get back I give him the time pen," he recited sulkily. Hermione smiled sweetly at him and handed him the magical pen.
"Here you are," she said. "Good luck, Jim. Don't forget that you want the sixteenth now, not the fourteenth."
"Fine, fine. I'm going." Jim started up his spell, shot one last grin at them and wrote '16th April 1957' on the pad. A moment later he, and his magical pen, were gone.
Hermione sat down.
"That was a very strange few Saturdays."
"You're right there. Perhaps we should just go to bed before anything else can happen to us."
"I think that's best. How was your day with Sirius, sweetie?" she asked as they walked back to the tower arm in arm- the first time they'd really spent alone in days, although it had, in 1997, only been ten minutes.
"It was... very cool," he said, marvelling at how Hermione had understood it had been more important to him to spend the day with his godfather who he had known and loved than the father he loved but did not remember.
"I'm sure it was nice to spend the day with James too," she added. He nodded.
"Did you have a nice time with my mum?"
"Yes. Did you know she was once in love with Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin? Seems she had a thing for dark haired men."
"I think that's good to know," he said with a smile. "Who is Led Zeppelin?"
"Never mind."
***
Hogwarts, June 1998
"Harry?" asked Hermione. The Head Girl and her boyfriend were sitting by the lake at Hogwarts. Night had long since fallen and they were in contravention of several school rules. Not that they cared much, even Hermione, because in one week they would leave school behind forever.
"Yes?"
"I was thinking the other day-"
"You? Thinking? Perish the thought."
"Oh be quiet, silly. No, I was thinking about last year. Our time travel escapade."
"What about it?"
"Well, do you think that Jim remembered us at all?"
"I don't know, Hermione. He became a big drugged out rock star. I'm not sure he remembered his own name sometimes."
"Don't be mean," she said huffily.
"I'm not being mean. Realistic. You know I read all that stuff about him once we got back the same as you did. He got really messed up, Hermione."
"I... I suppose. But I was just thinking... We did have fun, didn't we? The things we saw in 1957 and 1977! John Lennon was a prefect!"
"I know, love. We did have fun," he said, thinking of a glorious sunny day in April 1977 when the biggest worry Sirius Black had was whether he could steal Severus Snape's entire underwear collection without getting caught. Sensing his downturn to melancholy, Hermione snuggled closer to him.
***
The day came a week later for Harry, Hermione and their friends to leave Hogwarts and Harry Potter was terrified. The only life he knew outside the school was with the Dursleys. Everyone in the wizard world was clamouring to get Harry Potter to work for them. He'd taken an apprenticeship with the Chudley Cannons, although he knew he'd likely have to push it to one side for war work very soon. Hermione was off to research time travel for the Ministry in addition to fighting the war with him. Ron too, had won a hard-earned apprenticeship with the Cannons and was over the moon about it. Yet, the war still hung over them like a huge black storm cloud, threatening to burst at any time.
"Harry! Pay attention!" whispered Hermione, jolting him from his thoughts. He turned his attention back to Professor Dumbledore's farewell-and-good-luck speech.
Once the speech was over and the leaving feast eaten, the departing Seventh years went up to their dorms for their final night at school. Harry and Hermione walked slowly arm in arm down a corridor they'd walked a million times, trying to make it last a little longer.
"Harry! Harry, over here!" hissed a voice from the shadow. Harry froze. He knew that voice. He couldn't place it, but he knew it.
"Come here!" it whispered again. Hermione turned now to see why Harry had stopped.
"Hermione," the voice called, still shrouded by the shadows. She too, recognised the voice.
"Jim?" she croaked, disbelieving. When the corridor had entirely emptied of people, Jim Morrison stepped out of the shadows. Hermione nearly fainted.
This was not the cocky young thirteen-year-old boy they remembered. This was a grown man of about twenty five. He had a mane of dark brown hair that fell below his shoulders in messy curls and waves. He was wearing a white shirt tucked into a pair of black leather trousers which were a little tighter than propriety allowed. This was the Jim Morrison of Legend, the Jim that they had both researched on their return from their time travel adventure. The Jim Morrison they had know was a thirteen year old 'mad genius' with few friends. This was the Lizard King.
"Jim?" she repeated dumbly.
"Hi," he said with that familiar grin. She recovered enough to scold him.
"What are you doing here? Didn't you learn anything? You were supposed to give that to Professor Dumbledore! Honestly Jim, you should-"
He silenced her with a bear hug that lifted her off her feet. Harry felt that pang of jealousy again, sharper now that Jim was a handsome rock star instead of slightly awkward adolescent. He squashed it quickly- Jim did not belong here and would not be staying.
"Hey Harry," Jim said with a more manly slap on the back.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. "You were meant to give that pen to Dumbledore."
"I did. The night before I left school, I went and got it back."
"Did you ask for it?" Hermione asked him. His face coloured slightly.
"Not really. More a sort of sneaking into his office and taking it sort of thing."
"Why aren't I surprised?" Harry asked with a smile, really quite pleased to see him.
"How are you Jim?" Hermione asked. "Are you looking after yourself? You're living in California now, aren't you? I mean, what have you been doing? Why am I asking, I already know-" she stopped abruptly. "You didn't forget us?"
Jim smiled, "no. You didn't forget me?"
"I told you, Jim, we won't ever forget you."
"I'm glad. I just... I was in London with my band- hey, I have a band now! We're called the Doors and we're doing really well!"
"I know, Jim," she said with a smile. He nodded.
"Of course you do! Anyway, we were playing in London and, well I haven't been feeling too well, so I got a bit of time off and got on a train and ended up here. I worked out when you'd be leaving school and... here I am. I wanted to congratulate you."
"Thanks," Harry said, flattered more than he realised that this lofty rock star went to such trouble for him, even though this whole situation was particularly surreal.
"I just... I wanted to tell you that... Well, the time we spent in my time and the other time... It was some of the most fun I ever, ever had. Thank you."
Jim seemed very much to be like that somewhat shy little boy again. Hermione hugged him.
"It was some of the most fun I ever had too."
"Me too," Harry admitted. Jim beamed at them.
"I should... go, I suppose. I'll give the pen to Professor Dumbledore. He's at the school in 1968, right?"
"Yes," replied Harry. "Same office and everything, I expect."
"Good. I kinda... snuck in. I'll give it to him or... stamp on it or something. I promise. I just wanted... I wanted to see you both again."
"We're glad you came Jim, but you know you shouldn't be here," she said, feeling that desperate desire to tell him his future again. She stared at him for a long time. He returned the stare and she hoped something was getting through on brainwaves.
He hugged her again.
"Please Jim," she whispered. "Look after yourself. Please."
"Of course I will," he said confidently. "I'm the Lizard King, man."
"Not to me," she said obstinately. "You are little Jimmy and you aren't above a scolding from the Head Girl."
"All right," he said, flashing her another grin. Now he grabbed Harry and hugged him.
"Thanks Harry, man. Look after our girl, won't you?"
"I will."
"Hey, I always wanted to ask. That red head girl in '77, she was your mother, right?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. She had the same kinda vibe..."
"Vibe?" Harry asked.
"All you need is love," Jim said with a wink. "A good friend of mine said that. You know, I still owe him detention time?"
"I'm not surprised."
"Funny how life worked out, huh? I'm glad you didn't tell me my future, the man was right about that. I'll tell John if I see him. And now, it's time for me to go. I've still got to get back to London, you know."
"All right. Take care, Jim," said Harry. Hermione stood, biting her lip.
"See ya Hermione," Jim said with a wink and a grin. He scribbled a date on the pad and was quickly gone.
"No. No you won't," she said, promptly bursting into tears. She looked up at Harry.
"I have to know if he kept his promise," she said desperately through her tears.
"I've got one of your books in my room," he said. "Let's go and have a look."
They broke into a run and bounded up the stairs into the tower. Although people called after them, they ignored all, even Ron and ran up towards Harry's dorm.
"Wonder what they're up to?" he asked with a smirk, getting rather the wrong end of the stick.
***
They burst into Harry's room and he grabbed at the book open on his bed.
"What does it say? What does it say?" she demanded.
"Wait a sec..." he said as he flicked through the pages. His heart sank and he showed her a picture of a grave in Paris. It still read 1971.
"He didn't listen to me," she said. "He didn't listen."
"No," he replied sadly. "But you just saw that even the great rock star didn't forget us. He didn't forget you. I was pretty jealous, you know."
"I know," she said with a sniff and a smile. "I was going to tease you about it but I thought that might be a little mean of me."
"It would've been, yes. Come on, let's go downstairs. I'm sure everyone's thinking we're mad."
"You are mad," she retorted with a smile. He wiped the tears from her eyes and led her out of the dorm and back down the stairs.
"That was quick," said Dean. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. Ron noticed the tear tracks on her face.
"Everything all right?" he asked. She nodded.
"What's up?" Harry asked, pointing to the glasses of Butterbeer laid out.
"Ah, we're about to drink a toast," Seamus told them.
"To the future," added Neville. Hermione looked at Harry with a bittersweet smile, the scent Jim had been wearing in 1968 still lingering on her shirt from his hugs.
"To the future," she repeated.
***
The End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-12-07 17:48 (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-07 17:49 (UTC)Thank you very much. I have a feeling that today is going to be a very odd day.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-07 20:44 (UTC)But...
"James Douglas Morrison, I assure you that nobody will forget you"
Wouldn't Jim wonder how Hermione would know his full name?? Sorry, I'm being a mad nitpicker. Must go to bed, still tired from staying up late last night to watch LoTR:TTT again (VIGGO! VIGGO!! ;-) But really a great ficlet.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-08 09:45 (UTC)"I'm going to be a famous poet with my name on a book- American Poet James Douglas Morrison," he boasted.
Something like that :D
Glad you liked it, glad you like Viggo ;)
Speak to you soon!
no subject
Date: 2003-12-09 15:51 (UTC)GO CLARE!!!!!!!
ps see you thursday!!! hee hee!!!!