Time After Time
Monday, 8 December 2003 00:47![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apollaThis is a story I began a long time ago. It's the first non-DDD/IAI HP fic I've come up with in about a year (really) and today is the most appropriate day to post, it now being Jim Morrison's sixtieth birthday and the twenty-third anniversary of the murder of John Lennon. You will see why. This is not meant to be high art. It is not meant to change the world. It is just an idea I had a long time ago and wrote out yesterday. It is perhaps, a dream I once had.
Time After Time
Hogwarts, 1957
"What are we doing here?" hissed Hermione. Harry looked completely clueless.
"No idea."
"More importantly, how do we get back?" she asked, practical as always.
"Well! You're a lot of help!" she said huffily.
"Calm down," he said calmly.
"How can I possibly calm down?" she said. "One minute we're in the Charms classroom, well after hours, I might add. Then something very strange happens-"
"I didn't think I was that bad at kissing," he grumbled. For the first time since it happened, she smiled.
"You're not. I didn't mean that. I meant whatever it was that brought us here."
"All right," he said. "So how good a kisser am I?" he asked with a devilish grin.
"I don't think that's the issue here," he said, smiling in spite of herself and the situation.
"If you say so."
"Are we even still in the castle?" she asked looking around, trying to see in the dim moonlight streaming through the windows.
"I think... It's the Charms classroom!" he said.
"What? This isn't the Charms classroom."
"Yes it is," he said. "It's the same view from the window."
"Yes," she realised. "But it doesn't look much like the Charms classroom."
"Let's go," he said.
"Where?" she asked. "We don't know where we are or what just happened to us."
Just then, a young boy of about thirteen came rushing in. He stopped on seeing them there and smiled broadly.
"It worked!" he crowed, hopping about.
"Who are you?" demanded Harry. The boy sobered up immediately.
"Hi," he said in a distinctive American accent, sticking out his hand. "You must be from the future."
"What?" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.
"Uh... What are you doing here? My calculations said you wouldn't be here until the morning."
"We were up late," said Harry. "More importantly, what do you mean the future?"
"Well... I, uh... Me and uh... I invented a time machine," he said proudly.
"A time machine?" Hermione looked particularly sceptical. "How?"
"A little bit of magic."
"And you thought you'd just pull two random people into your time?" Harry asked angrily.
"No. I left it here after class. I must've left it active. I was going to travel myself."
Harry and Hermione looked curiously at this young boy who seemed so blase about a huge thing like time travel.
"Well, that's just great, kid," said Harry. "You can just send us back now."
"All right," he said sulkily. He went over to a desk and picked up an innocent looking pen and pad of paper. "Yeah, I left the lid off the pen. When are you from?"
"14th April 1997," Hermione told him. "Time travel is very dangerous, you know."
"Yeah? How?" he asked obstinately.
"You could change history. You could die in one time and never get back! Time travel is forbidden for a reason!"
"Yeah, yeah," said the boy dismissively. He fiddled with the pen and paper, finally writing '14th April 1997' on the paper. Nothing happened.
"Damn," he muttered.
"What?" Harry asked in his most threatening voice.
"The uh... the power's gone. It needs to recharge itself with magic."
"And how long does that take?" Hermione was back to panicking.
"Two days."
"Two days! We can't hang about for two days? When are we, anyway?"
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said gently, putting his arm around her shoulder. The kid's eyes lit up.
"Is she your girlfriend?" he asked Harry. "Is that why you were in a classroom at night?"
"Yes," he said gruffly. "Your point?"
"Nothing," the boy said with wide, innocent eyes. "Nothing."
"What are you lot doing in here?" another, new voice asked. "You should've been in bed ages ago."
The three turned to see a tall prefect standing in the doorway, his hair greased into a quiff. He did not look pleased. Hermione stared at him, sure she recognised.
"Morrison! Every time I'm on duty I find you skulking about! What is it this time?" he said in an annoyed Scouse accent.
"Aw, John..."
"Summon Dionysus did ya? Or perhaps you got your mad time travel plan working? How was tea with Rimbaud?" asked the prefect in a scathing tone.
"The time travel worked!" said the boy Morrison triumphantly. "These two are from the Future!"
"OK Morrison, I'm taking you to the hospital wing."
"No, it's true. Ask them. Go on! Ask them!"
"Fine. Are you from the future?" the prefect asked Harry and Hermione in a bored, disbelieving voice.
"Yes," said Harry. "We're Gryffindors from 1997."
John the prefect looked searchingly at him for a moment. He looked at their uniforms- at once like his own and yet different.
"Who's your headmaster?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
"Dippy Dippett retired at some point, then?" John asked.
"This boy still hasn't told us whenwe are," Hermione cut in.
"Trust Morrison not to tell you something as important as that. It's the 14th April 1957."
"1957? Blimey!" exclaimed Harry. "My mum and dad haven't even been born yet!"
"Bloody Hell," John said, flabbergasted. "You really are from the future, aren't you?"
"Yes, we are," said Hermione. "This boy somehow brought us here and apparently we can't get back for two days."
"Morrison!"
"I did it though! I managed it!" he said.
"Americans," muttered John. "He shouldn't even be here, y'know. But he just wouldn't go to the Salem Institute."
"There's bad mojo there," said Morrison solemnly.
"You're Gryffindors?" John asked, looking at their badges.
"Yeah," answered Hermione. "You?"
"Yes. Come with me. I'll find you somewhere in the Tower for tonight. Morrison, if you're not back in Ravenclaw in the next thirty seconds, I'll let Filch have you."
"Yes John. Bye!" The boy skipped out of the room
"And I want to see you tomorrow!" John shouted after him, getting an 'OK!' in return.
"That kid," said John as they headed towards Gryffindor tower. "Is a mad genius."
"If you say so," said Hermione.
"Oh, he is. He's only a Third year but I caught him reading some 16th century tome about witch burnings last week. So, what are your names?"
"I'm Hermione Granger. This is Harry Potter. We're Sixth years back in our time."
"Back in the future?" joked John.
"Yes, you're right," said Hermione as she shot Harry a look that said 'Marty McFly'.
"I'm John Lennon, Gryffindor prefect. Also Sixth year."
"Prefect?" Hermione asked, open-mouthed as she finally placed the face.
"Yeah. Dunno why. I'm usually worse behaved than Jim."
"Jim?"
"Yeah, Morrison. The kid didn't even tell you his name?" John shook his head.
"He was too busy realising his time travel thing worked," said Harry.
"Typical."
They arrived at the tower. John gave the Fat Lady the password (Sugarplum Fairy) and led them inside.
"You'd best sleep in here," said John when they got into the Common Room. "I'll wake you up early and we'll go and see Professor Dumbledore. I reckon he'll know what to do."
"All right," said Harry. "Thanks."
"S'all right. Good night." John disappeared up the stairs. Harry sat down on the sofa by the fire. It was the same sofa he'd sat on many times through his six years at Hogwarts, but never in 1957.
"This is very weird," said Hermione, sitting down next to him. He smiled at her vocalising the completely bleeding obvious.
"Yes. It's weird. Very weird." Harry sighed. "But we might as well get some sleep."
"All right," she said and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Good night."
She moved over to another chair and curled up. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep. A minute or two later, so was Harry.
***
The next morning, John Lennon woke them up as promised and took them to see Professor Dumbledore. Harry was not surprised that Professor Dumbledore did not look surprised- he always seemed to know everything that was going on. He listened to them explain everything and then thought for a moment.
"It seems you have no choice but to stay here until tomorrow night," he said. "We will make you comfortable. Mr Lennon, I'd like you to go and inform the House-Elves that we have two guests staying with us."
"Yes Professor," said John with a nod before heading out. Dumbledore thought for a moment.
"Making him a prefect has done him a world of good," he said thoughtfully.
"Professor... Do you know what will happen to him?" asked Hermione. "In the future I mean?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, because I do know," she said in a quiet voice. "I know what's going to happen to him."
"No matter what it is, Miss Granger, you must keep it to yourself."
"Yes Professor."
"Whether it is good or bad, no good comes from knowing our destiny in advance," he told her firmly. She nodded.
"Yes Professor."
"We will put you in a couple of guest rooms and you will stay here as guests. Perhaps some other clothes..." Dumbledore muttered and their school robes were transformed into what they recognised as relatively fashionable clothes of 1957.
"Thank you Professor," Harry said sincerely. Since seeing his Headmaster, he had felt a great sense of calm and security- the likes of which he had not felt since the battle at the Ministry and the death of Sirius.
"You may go now. You have the freedom of the castle. Mr Morrison should be coming to me very shortly for a lecture on the proper and improper uses of magic."
"Don't be too hard on him, Professor," Hermione blurted suddenly. "He just wanted to see if he could do it."
Professor Dumbledore simply nodded. She blushed and followed Harry out of the room.
***
"Harry! Hermione!" called Jim, running down the corridor. "Here you are!"
"Hello Jim," said Hermione. "Was Professor Dumbledore terribly hard on you?"
"Once you're gone I have detention with him for two weeks. Could be worse. Could be grumpy old Professor Watts, the Potions master."
"Don't you have class now?" she asked. He looked at her oddly.
"It's Saturday."
"Of course it is," she said, shaking her head.
"We feel a little disorientated," said Harry "being in 1957 and everything."
"Would you... would you spend the day with me?" Jim asked hesitantly. "I want to know everything!"
"Wouldn't you rather spend the day with your friends?" Harry asked, not wanting a day with Hermione interrupted by a thirteen year old boy.
"I... I don't really have any friends. Everyone thinks I'm mad or weird. Or both."
"Of course we will," replied Hermione quickly, taking pity on the boy. "Why don't we go down to the lake? It's really lovely weather today."
Harry scowled but held his tongue.
***
"You really have hovering skateboards?" Jim asked with wonderment. Harry and Hermione grinned. They'd been bending the truth slightly about the reality of life in 1997.
"What about rock and roll? You still have rock and roll don't you?"
"Yes we do. Although it's really very different to the sort you listen to," said Hermione. Her father had taught her all about Elvis when she was a little girl, although she'd always been more interested in her books.
"I think Elvis Presley is great," said Jim. "Do you still have Elvis?"
"Yes, we know who Elvis is," she said, again bending the truth slightly, not really wanting to break the news to this wide-eyed boy that his hero died on the toilet, a bloated shell of his former self.
"What about other rock and roll? Does it get better than Elvis?" he asked as if such things weren't really possible.
"I think so," replied Hermione. Harry said nothing, for he knew little of the music Aunt Petunia called 'that evil racket'. He knew Hermione recognised little Jim Morrison, but wasn't sure how and she hadn't told him yet. That said, even he knew who John Lennon was going to become and he understood the desire Hermione had to tell him his future.
"You know what I'd like?" Jim asked in a conspiratorial voice. "I'd like to be in a rock and roll band... but I'd want to write poems, real poems and sing them instead of boring 'she loves you' lyrics."
Hermione coughed to stop herself from laughing. Not only had Jim just laid out his future for her, he'd somehow managed to hear about a Beatles song that wouldn't be recorded for five years.
"She Loves You?" she asked. Jim rolled his eyes.
"John Lennon wrote a song called that. He's in a band when he's at home in the school holidays, you know."
"He is? That's... good to know."
"Yeah. He's really cool. Don't you think he's really cool?"
"I do, yes," she replied.
"I tried to get my hair to look like his and Elvis' but it's too long. Professor Watts and my dad say I should cut it. What do you think?" he asked her. Hermione looked into his eager, anxious face.
"I think it's nice long like that."
Jim beamed and she had the distinct feeling that she had a new fan. Harry scowled, but said nothing.
***
Jim tagged along with them almost all the time they were there. When Hermione went to the library she was amazed to see how unchanged it was and allowed Jim to show her around, even showing her a very old, very musty section she'd never noticed before. Full of absolutely ancient texts, they found that they spent most of Saturday afternoon and evening there. He seemed to know the entire library inside out- a feat even Hermione hadn't managed yet in twice the time. For his part, Jim seemed genuinely very glad to have someone to talk to about these things and showed off 'his' library with eagerness.
Prefect Lennon showed up occasionally, usually having to tell Jim off for something or other. That said, he seemed almost fond of the younger boy, as if these were two boys on a similar wavelength. Hermione suspected this was correct. When John had called Jim a 'mad genius' she thought he could've just as easily have been talking about himself.
"See, me mates from Liverpool and me, we've got this band, you know, guitar, drums, tea-chest bass, singer, typical band really," John told her over dinner in the Great Hall, where Jim had most reluctantly parted from her to go and sit at the Ravenclaw table.
"Sounds good," said Harry.
"We are," John said rather arrogantly. "We're gonna be huge."
"Who's in the band?" Hermione asked, but none of the names John gave her were familiar. He had not yet met his three fellow world-conquerors, so she stayed quiet. He continued talking in much the same way Jim had, about rock and roll and even poetry himself. He asked a few questions about the future but didn't seem half as interested as Jim.
"I don't see the point in knowing what’s going to happen, meself," he said. "Takes all the fun out of it."
Hermione sighed. She wanted so desperately to tell him his future, what was going to happen. Instead she obeyed the Professor and John himself and stayed quiet, hoping that by doing so she wasn't signing his death warrant.
***
Sunday night came and Jim came to them to pronounce the time machine ready for use. They went back to the Charms classroom because they guessed nobody would be there in 1997 either.
"I'm going to miss you," he said glumly. Hermione smiled sweetly at him.
"I'll miss you as well," she told him. "But we do have to go."
"Why do you have to go?" he asked sulkily. Over the course of two days, Jim had become greatly attached to Clever Hermione and Heroic Harry, even though the latter hadn't said much to him. Hermione now took the younger boy's hand.
"Don't worry, Jim. We won't forget you, but this is the way it has to be."
Jim grabbed the pen and pad and repeated his charms and spells.
"You have to grab this when I write the date," he said. Hermione and Harry both held onto the page as he wrote '14th April 1977'.
***
To Be Continued very shortly...
Time After Time
Hogwarts, 1957
"What are we doing here?" hissed Hermione. Harry looked completely clueless.
"No idea."
"More importantly, how do we get back?" she asked, practical as always.
"Well! You're a lot of help!" she said huffily.
"Calm down," he said calmly.
"How can I possibly calm down?" she said. "One minute we're in the Charms classroom, well after hours, I might add. Then something very strange happens-"
"I didn't think I was that bad at kissing," he grumbled. For the first time since it happened, she smiled.
"You're not. I didn't mean that. I meant whatever it was that brought us here."
"All right," he said. "So how good a kisser am I?" he asked with a devilish grin.
"I don't think that's the issue here," he said, smiling in spite of herself and the situation.
"If you say so."
"Are we even still in the castle?" she asked looking around, trying to see in the dim moonlight streaming through the windows.
"I think... It's the Charms classroom!" he said.
"What? This isn't the Charms classroom."
"Yes it is," he said. "It's the same view from the window."
"Yes," she realised. "But it doesn't look much like the Charms classroom."
"Let's go," he said.
"Where?" she asked. "We don't know where we are or what just happened to us."
Just then, a young boy of about thirteen came rushing in. He stopped on seeing them there and smiled broadly.
"It worked!" he crowed, hopping about.
"Who are you?" demanded Harry. The boy sobered up immediately.
"Hi," he said in a distinctive American accent, sticking out his hand. "You must be from the future."
"What?" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.
"Uh... What are you doing here? My calculations said you wouldn't be here until the morning."
"We were up late," said Harry. "More importantly, what do you mean the future?"
"Well... I, uh... Me and uh... I invented a time machine," he said proudly.
"A time machine?" Hermione looked particularly sceptical. "How?"
"A little bit of magic."
"And you thought you'd just pull two random people into your time?" Harry asked angrily.
"No. I left it here after class. I must've left it active. I was going to travel myself."
Harry and Hermione looked curiously at this young boy who seemed so blase about a huge thing like time travel.
"Well, that's just great, kid," said Harry. "You can just send us back now."
"All right," he said sulkily. He went over to a desk and picked up an innocent looking pen and pad of paper. "Yeah, I left the lid off the pen. When are you from?"
"14th April 1997," Hermione told him. "Time travel is very dangerous, you know."
"Yeah? How?" he asked obstinately.
"You could change history. You could die in one time and never get back! Time travel is forbidden for a reason!"
"Yeah, yeah," said the boy dismissively. He fiddled with the pen and paper, finally writing '14th April 1997' on the paper. Nothing happened.
"Damn," he muttered.
"What?" Harry asked in his most threatening voice.
"The uh... the power's gone. It needs to recharge itself with magic."
"And how long does that take?" Hermione was back to panicking.
"Two days."
"Two days! We can't hang about for two days? When are we, anyway?"
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said gently, putting his arm around her shoulder. The kid's eyes lit up.
"Is she your girlfriend?" he asked Harry. "Is that why you were in a classroom at night?"
"Yes," he said gruffly. "Your point?"
"Nothing," the boy said with wide, innocent eyes. "Nothing."
"What are you lot doing in here?" another, new voice asked. "You should've been in bed ages ago."
The three turned to see a tall prefect standing in the doorway, his hair greased into a quiff. He did not look pleased. Hermione stared at him, sure she recognised.
"Morrison! Every time I'm on duty I find you skulking about! What is it this time?" he said in an annoyed Scouse accent.
"Aw, John..."
"Summon Dionysus did ya? Or perhaps you got your mad time travel plan working? How was tea with Rimbaud?" asked the prefect in a scathing tone.
"The time travel worked!" said the boy Morrison triumphantly. "These two are from the Future!"
"OK Morrison, I'm taking you to the hospital wing."
"No, it's true. Ask them. Go on! Ask them!"
"Fine. Are you from the future?" the prefect asked Harry and Hermione in a bored, disbelieving voice.
"Yes," said Harry. "We're Gryffindors from 1997."
John the prefect looked searchingly at him for a moment. He looked at their uniforms- at once like his own and yet different.
"Who's your headmaster?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
"Dippy Dippett retired at some point, then?" John asked.
"This boy still hasn't told us whenwe are," Hermione cut in.
"Trust Morrison not to tell you something as important as that. It's the 14th April 1957."
"1957? Blimey!" exclaimed Harry. "My mum and dad haven't even been born yet!"
"Bloody Hell," John said, flabbergasted. "You really are from the future, aren't you?"
"Yes, we are," said Hermione. "This boy somehow brought us here and apparently we can't get back for two days."
"Morrison!"
"I did it though! I managed it!" he said.
"Americans," muttered John. "He shouldn't even be here, y'know. But he just wouldn't go to the Salem Institute."
"There's bad mojo there," said Morrison solemnly.
"You're Gryffindors?" John asked, looking at their badges.
"Yeah," answered Hermione. "You?"
"Yes. Come with me. I'll find you somewhere in the Tower for tonight. Morrison, if you're not back in Ravenclaw in the next thirty seconds, I'll let Filch have you."
"Yes John. Bye!" The boy skipped out of the room
"And I want to see you tomorrow!" John shouted after him, getting an 'OK!' in return.
"That kid," said John as they headed towards Gryffindor tower. "Is a mad genius."
"If you say so," said Hermione.
"Oh, he is. He's only a Third year but I caught him reading some 16th century tome about witch burnings last week. So, what are your names?"
"I'm Hermione Granger. This is Harry Potter. We're Sixth years back in our time."
"Back in the future?" joked John.
"Yes, you're right," said Hermione as she shot Harry a look that said 'Marty McFly'.
"I'm John Lennon, Gryffindor prefect. Also Sixth year."
"Prefect?" Hermione asked, open-mouthed as she finally placed the face.
"Yeah. Dunno why. I'm usually worse behaved than Jim."
"Jim?"
"Yeah, Morrison. The kid didn't even tell you his name?" John shook his head.
"He was too busy realising his time travel thing worked," said Harry.
"Typical."
They arrived at the tower. John gave the Fat Lady the password (Sugarplum Fairy) and led them inside.
"You'd best sleep in here," said John when they got into the Common Room. "I'll wake you up early and we'll go and see Professor Dumbledore. I reckon he'll know what to do."
"All right," said Harry. "Thanks."
"S'all right. Good night." John disappeared up the stairs. Harry sat down on the sofa by the fire. It was the same sofa he'd sat on many times through his six years at Hogwarts, but never in 1957.
"This is very weird," said Hermione, sitting down next to him. He smiled at her vocalising the completely bleeding obvious.
"Yes. It's weird. Very weird." Harry sighed. "But we might as well get some sleep."
"All right," she said and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "Good night."
She moved over to another chair and curled up. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep. A minute or two later, so was Harry.
***
The next morning, John Lennon woke them up as promised and took them to see Professor Dumbledore. Harry was not surprised that Professor Dumbledore did not look surprised- he always seemed to know everything that was going on. He listened to them explain everything and then thought for a moment.
"It seems you have no choice but to stay here until tomorrow night," he said. "We will make you comfortable. Mr Lennon, I'd like you to go and inform the House-Elves that we have two guests staying with us."
"Yes Professor," said John with a nod before heading out. Dumbledore thought for a moment.
"Making him a prefect has done him a world of good," he said thoughtfully.
"Professor... Do you know what will happen to him?" asked Hermione. "In the future I mean?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, because I do know," she said in a quiet voice. "I know what's going to happen to him."
"No matter what it is, Miss Granger, you must keep it to yourself."
"Yes Professor."
"Whether it is good or bad, no good comes from knowing our destiny in advance," he told her firmly. She nodded.
"Yes Professor."
"We will put you in a couple of guest rooms and you will stay here as guests. Perhaps some other clothes..." Dumbledore muttered and their school robes were transformed into what they recognised as relatively fashionable clothes of 1957.
"Thank you Professor," Harry said sincerely. Since seeing his Headmaster, he had felt a great sense of calm and security- the likes of which he had not felt since the battle at the Ministry and the death of Sirius.
"You may go now. You have the freedom of the castle. Mr Morrison should be coming to me very shortly for a lecture on the proper and improper uses of magic."
"Don't be too hard on him, Professor," Hermione blurted suddenly. "He just wanted to see if he could do it."
Professor Dumbledore simply nodded. She blushed and followed Harry out of the room.
***
"Harry! Hermione!" called Jim, running down the corridor. "Here you are!"
"Hello Jim," said Hermione. "Was Professor Dumbledore terribly hard on you?"
"Once you're gone I have detention with him for two weeks. Could be worse. Could be grumpy old Professor Watts, the Potions master."
"Don't you have class now?" she asked. He looked at her oddly.
"It's Saturday."
"Of course it is," she said, shaking her head.
"We feel a little disorientated," said Harry "being in 1957 and everything."
"Would you... would you spend the day with me?" Jim asked hesitantly. "I want to know everything!"
"Wouldn't you rather spend the day with your friends?" Harry asked, not wanting a day with Hermione interrupted by a thirteen year old boy.
"I... I don't really have any friends. Everyone thinks I'm mad or weird. Or both."
"Of course we will," replied Hermione quickly, taking pity on the boy. "Why don't we go down to the lake? It's really lovely weather today."
Harry scowled but held his tongue.
***
"You really have hovering skateboards?" Jim asked with wonderment. Harry and Hermione grinned. They'd been bending the truth slightly about the reality of life in 1997.
"What about rock and roll? You still have rock and roll don't you?"
"Yes we do. Although it's really very different to the sort you listen to," said Hermione. Her father had taught her all about Elvis when she was a little girl, although she'd always been more interested in her books.
"I think Elvis Presley is great," said Jim. "Do you still have Elvis?"
"Yes, we know who Elvis is," she said, again bending the truth slightly, not really wanting to break the news to this wide-eyed boy that his hero died on the toilet, a bloated shell of his former self.
"What about other rock and roll? Does it get better than Elvis?" he asked as if such things weren't really possible.
"I think so," replied Hermione. Harry said nothing, for he knew little of the music Aunt Petunia called 'that evil racket'. He knew Hermione recognised little Jim Morrison, but wasn't sure how and she hadn't told him yet. That said, even he knew who John Lennon was going to become and he understood the desire Hermione had to tell him his future.
"You know what I'd like?" Jim asked in a conspiratorial voice. "I'd like to be in a rock and roll band... but I'd want to write poems, real poems and sing them instead of boring 'she loves you' lyrics."
Hermione coughed to stop herself from laughing. Not only had Jim just laid out his future for her, he'd somehow managed to hear about a Beatles song that wouldn't be recorded for five years.
"She Loves You?" she asked. Jim rolled his eyes.
"John Lennon wrote a song called that. He's in a band when he's at home in the school holidays, you know."
"He is? That's... good to know."
"Yeah. He's really cool. Don't you think he's really cool?"
"I do, yes," she replied.
"I tried to get my hair to look like his and Elvis' but it's too long. Professor Watts and my dad say I should cut it. What do you think?" he asked her. Hermione looked into his eager, anxious face.
"I think it's nice long like that."
Jim beamed and she had the distinct feeling that she had a new fan. Harry scowled, but said nothing.
***
Jim tagged along with them almost all the time they were there. When Hermione went to the library she was amazed to see how unchanged it was and allowed Jim to show her around, even showing her a very old, very musty section she'd never noticed before. Full of absolutely ancient texts, they found that they spent most of Saturday afternoon and evening there. He seemed to know the entire library inside out- a feat even Hermione hadn't managed yet in twice the time. For his part, Jim seemed genuinely very glad to have someone to talk to about these things and showed off 'his' library with eagerness.
Prefect Lennon showed up occasionally, usually having to tell Jim off for something or other. That said, he seemed almost fond of the younger boy, as if these were two boys on a similar wavelength. Hermione suspected this was correct. When John had called Jim a 'mad genius' she thought he could've just as easily have been talking about himself.
"See, me mates from Liverpool and me, we've got this band, you know, guitar, drums, tea-chest bass, singer, typical band really," John told her over dinner in the Great Hall, where Jim had most reluctantly parted from her to go and sit at the Ravenclaw table.
"Sounds good," said Harry.
"We are," John said rather arrogantly. "We're gonna be huge."
"Who's in the band?" Hermione asked, but none of the names John gave her were familiar. He had not yet met his three fellow world-conquerors, so she stayed quiet. He continued talking in much the same way Jim had, about rock and roll and even poetry himself. He asked a few questions about the future but didn't seem half as interested as Jim.
"I don't see the point in knowing what’s going to happen, meself," he said. "Takes all the fun out of it."
Hermione sighed. She wanted so desperately to tell him his future, what was going to happen. Instead she obeyed the Professor and John himself and stayed quiet, hoping that by doing so she wasn't signing his death warrant.
***
Sunday night came and Jim came to them to pronounce the time machine ready for use. They went back to the Charms classroom because they guessed nobody would be there in 1997 either.
"I'm going to miss you," he said glumly. Hermione smiled sweetly at him.
"I'll miss you as well," she told him. "But we do have to go."
"Why do you have to go?" he asked sulkily. Over the course of two days, Jim had become greatly attached to Clever Hermione and Heroic Harry, even though the latter hadn't said much to him. Hermione now took the younger boy's hand.
"Don't worry, Jim. We won't forget you, but this is the way it has to be."
Jim grabbed the pen and pad and repeated his charms and spells.
"You have to grab this when I write the date," he said. Hermione and Harry both held onto the page as he wrote '14th April 1977'.
***
To Be Continued very shortly...
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Date: 2003-12-07 17:21 (UTC)The next bit is coming in a matter of minutes!
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Date: 2003-12-07 18:23 (UTC)