Portals to the Past
Harry Potter, age 21, stood on a hill over-looking the mud and blood covered battle field that was once the front lawn of one of the greatest schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the world. Hogwarts lay behind him, reduced to piles of rubble, mounds of twisted metal and glittering pieces of broken glass. The dead and dying lay one on top of the other in shapeless, lumpy heaps, dark puddles of their own blood pooled under them and sightless eyes staring into the dark, starry void that was the night sky.
At his feet lay one of the most powerful and feared Dark Lords in recorded history, broken, bleeding and struggling for his last few breaths of life. Harry stood there watching his greatest enemy take his last ragged breath with an inscrutable expression. Voldemort's chest hitched once more and then was still. The Dark Lord was no more. It was finally over. He was finally free.
But free to do what?
For the last few years, since the Golden Trio had graduated, they had constantly fought for survival. They were perpetually on the move, never staying in one place for more than a week, and only that long if one of them was injured badly enough to need the time to recuperate. Every day, news of the deaths of friends and loved ones found them, wherever they were. For years, they worried about the people they had left behind (for their own safety) in an effort to end the war quickly and with as few casualties as possible. It didn't work.
Death Eater attacks had increased dramatically since the death of Dumbledore. The first to be attacked were the families of Muggle-born students. Voldemort went down the line, methodically. The ones with the youngest magical children were first. They couldn't fight back. Hermione's parents were the exception. Because she wasn't home, they were at the top of the mad man's list.
By that time the one year anniversary of Dumbledore's death rolled around, Voldemort had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic at almost every level and had several laws passed that made the restriction for underage magic penalties much more severe if the magic was performed in a Muggle neighborhood. The minimum penalty was expulsion from Hogwarts and a year in Azkaban. This meant that the Muggle-born students could not even protect their families when the Death Eaters attacked. The ones that tried were quickly made examples of. One even got Kissed. They claimed that he was trying to escape.
Naturally, because they openly opposed Voldemort, the Weasleys were among the first of the Pure-bloods to be targeted. The Dark Lord had come up with a new form of torture, or maybe it was an old form of torture? Either way, it was new for him. Instead of killing a person outright, he tried to turn them first. Perhaps he had realized that he would not have many people to rule if he kept killing them all. Perhaps he just liked toying with his victims.
Instead of hurting the person he was trying to 'persuade' physically, he attacked their emotions. He purposely targeted the most powerful witch or wizard in a family and gave them the choice to either join him or he would kill the people they held dear one at a time. For those without children, this generally meant a spouse or significant other, parents, grandparents, anyone he could lay hands on. For parents, however, it was much, much worse.
For parents, being targeted by Voldemort was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Children are usually thought of as the least powerful in a family and, subsequently, the least likely to be able to defend themselves. The first time the parents refused to join, Voldemort gave their youngest child to Fenrir Greyback and his pack of Werewolves and 'allowed' the parents to watch them play their sick and twisted games. None of the children survived the night, full moon or no.
If there was more than one child in a family, this was usually enough to convince the parents to join him, if only to prevent the same from happening to the rest of their children. Many simply gave in before he could threaten their children, hoping to keep them safe. There were a few exceptions. If Voldemort thought that the entire family was a threat, he simply had them disposed of. He didn't even bother to try to turn them.
No family was more of a threat than the Weasleys.
Having heard the rumors, when they learned that they were being targeted for extermination, Arthur and Molly Weasley decided to hide their family. It would have worked too, if they had been able to find Ron, Harry or even Hermione to be their secret keeper. As it was, they picked Great Aunt Muriel, thinking that Voldemort would never suspect her or even bother looking twice at an old woman.
Unknown to the Weasleys, Muriel had been a Death Eater since Voldemort's first reign of terror. They never stood a chance. Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Percy, who had just reconciled with his family, were all home that night. They said the light from the blaze could be seen in the town of Whimple, over 10 miles away.
A week later, Bill, Fleur and their new born daughter were attacked at St. Mungos moments after Fleur gave birth. That attack was devastating to the light side. Not only were Bill and Fleur lost, but Neville and Mrs. Longbottom, who were visiting Neville's parents, as well as over half of the St. Mungos Healers! Somehow, Death Eaters had bypassed the enhanced wards and heightened security to invade one of the last safe havens in the Wizarding world.
After that, Ron was never the same. Losing most of his family caused him to become much more fierce and unforgiving in his fighting style. He never aimed to stun or disarm again. Each shot was meant to do one thing. Kill. He became so good that when Death Eaters caught a glimpse of him on the battle field, they either ran with their tails tucked between their legs, or tried to severely outnumber him. Ron became one of the most ruthless and feared fighters on the side of the light.
Fred and George had abandoned their shop after Diagon Alley was attacked in broad daylight. They tried to defend the Alley, but they were soon out numbered and had no choice but to retreat. They joined Harry, Ron and Hermione in their search for the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes, keeping a full stock of their more dangerous inventions on hand at all times in a couple of shrunken multi-compartment trunks similar to Mad Eye Moody's. Harry and the Twins had rigged up a set of utility belts for the ones that were found to be the most useful in a battle situation and these belts were worn at all times. Sometimes, these pranks/jokes turned weapons were the only advantage the group had.
One of the most useful things the Twins came up with was a potion that could mimic the effects of the Animagus transformation. The inspiration for the potion actually came from their Canary Crèmes. After eating one, Ron had made an off handed comment about how useful being an animal could be if it was for more than five minutes. Once Fred and George had gotten over their awed shock that their brother could come up with something like that, they got to work. It only took them about a month to get it perfect. They never had time to come up with a name for it.
Because the group had to move around so much, they got to stay in many Wizarding homes that had either been abandoned when their owners had decided to flee Britain, or no longer had owners due to Death Eater attacks. Either way, in most cases, these homes were still fully furnished and quite a few had a library of sorts, or at least a few bookshelves.
Hermione, being the intellectual type anyway, reasoned that the previous owners had no more use for the books, so she started hoarding them away in another shrunken trunk, to be carried with them from place to place so they would always have research material. In the end, she had collected nearly 5,000 books from their various stops, including most of the surviving books from the Hogwarts Library.
She had even worked out a nifty charm that would summon the books, by subject, from the trunk whether or not it was still shrunk. All she had to do was think of the subject she needed to research, or the title, if she knew what book she wanted, say the incantation and the books appeared neatly stacked.
She really was a clever Witch.
Yet another trunk was used to carry around potions ingredients and various healing and disguise potions, including the Animagus potion. When the group found things of this nature in a house, they added them to this trunk. Hermione was, of course their potions brewer, but Ron was their designated Healer, though they all knew quite a bit about it, as he had shown the most talent for it at the very beginning. As Healer, Ron carried the last trunk with him wherever they went so he would always have it close to hand.
One night, about 2 years before the final battle, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, the last remaining members of the Resistance, had just settled in to yet another abandoned house when the intruder alarms that they set up each night went off, raising an all mighty racket and sending the group into a flurry of activity. Within seconds they were ready to fight.
They all fought bravely and, in the end, managed to drive off the remaining Death Eaters. Hermione had stifled a sob when she found the red headed twins staring glassily up at the ceiling. Ron had howled his anguish at loosing his last remaining family. Quickly, Harry and Ron each gathered a twin and Apparated to yet another 'safe house'.
To say the Trio was devastated would be a gross understatement. They allowed themselves time to grieve for their brothers, for that is what they were to all of them. The next day, after they had relieved them of the magical trunks, they performed the traditional Weasley funeral, which was a modified version of an ancient Roman custom.
Early in the morning, before the sky had even begun to lighten, The Golden Trio purified the bodies of Fred and George, washing them and anointing them with oil. They dressed them in the best clothes they could find and laid them out on a single wooden funeral pyre. Ron, as their only remaining relative, then kissed each of their foreheads and placed a Galleon over each eye for Charon, the boatman of the River Styx. Then, as the first rays of the sun lit the morning sky, Ron and Harry each fired Incendio at the dry wood of the pyre. The three stood there until the final ember was out, each crying silent tears and saying farewell to their friends and brothers.
The Trio had become even closer after the deaths of the twins than they had been and eventually the three had become so much more than friends. Nearly a year later, Hermione had burst into the room where Ron and Harry were planning their next guerrilla attack. She had been crying and the boys were immediately on their feet, wondering what could have happened. She had burst into tears once more and told them that she was pregnant and that they were going to be daddies!
They had stared at her for a moment before meeting each other's eyes in shock. Then their faces had split into wide grins and they both rushed Hermione to hold her and comfort her. She was understandably upset. With the way the war was going, they couldn't afford to have her out of commission... much less carrying a crying baby around on ambush attacks! The boys had simply held her and let her tell them her fears. By the time she had calmed down, she was utterly exhausted and they'd all gone to bed that night, thinking about the future, even more determined to see the end of Voldemort.
Less than a month later, they were again surprised by Death Eaters. Somehow they'd been found and Voldemort wasted no time sending his servants to finish off the last of the resistance. Hermione was caught in a three-way Avada Kedavra. The boys had watched their lover and the mother of their child crumple to the ground, all life gone from her beautiful brown eyes.
That night, 50 Death Eaters were ruthlessly slaughtered. Neither Harry nor Ron remembered much about the moments after Hermione's murder, but replaying it in a Penseive showed Harry glowing with an inner fire. The light had spread from him, doing nothing to Ron, but each time it touched someone bearing the Dark Mark, that person had been literally turned inside out. When Harry faltered, a strand of light linked Ron and Harry together and he seemed to draw power from Ron to finish off the remaining Death Eaters.
Too late to save their love, they had found "The power the Dark Lord knows not".
The next day, they once again performed the Weasley Funeral ritual. Hermione hadn't legally married Ron or Harry, but they had each dedicated their lives to each other and forming a bond that didn't need a piece of paper or approval from the Voldemort-run Ministry of Magic. They were married in their hearts and that was all that mattered.
The last year before the final battle was the hardest for Harry and Ron. Without Hermione there to keep them focused, they'd become sloppy and had narrowly escaped with their lives more times than they could count.
They practiced with Harry's power and found that it healed people without the Mark. The only downside to it was that Harry couldn't heal himself. But he could heal Ron, and he did... more than once. It got to where Harry didn't need to draw magic from Ron anymore. His power core had increased exponentially each time they had used his power. It almost acted as a magic exercise.
Just before the final battle, Harry and Ron had found the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Because he had nearly destroyed Hogwarts during his takeover, it was not a safe place for them to be for very long. Even so, they had come to see if they could find anything that had been left behind. Sort of a scavenge mission.
They were startled by the Grey Lady popping up from a pile of rocks that had been the ceiling of the Great Hall at. The ghost had told them to follow her and she quickly led them to the seventh floor corridor which had, miraculously, survived the fall of Hogwarts, though it was several floors down from where it was originally.
The Grey Lady then told them about Ravenclaw's diadem and where to find it. They had immediately started pacing and were through the door to the room of requirement as soon it opened.
The huge room was exactly as Harry remembered it from his sixth year when he hid the Half Blood Prince's potion's book. Remembering Hermione's trunk of books, he took it out of his pocket, enlarged it and summoned all the books to the trunk, nearly doubling Hermione's collection and completely filling the seven-compartment trunk. He had simply shrugged his shoulders when Ron gave him a sad look.
After the books had been commandeered and the trunk re-shrunk, they had been able to see over the piles and spotted the old wardrobe and the bust on top with no difficulties. Having made their way through the room to stand before the wardrobe, Ron had pulled out one of the twins' trunks and rummaged around for a moment or two, and finally come up with a small vial of potion. It was the last of the Horcrux dissolving solution that Fred and George had invented to get rid of the pieces of Voldemort's soul without harming the priceless relics that housed them.
Just seconds after Ron had poured the solution onto the diadem and the piece of Voldemort's soul was released, the walls of the room had begun to shake, making piles fall left and right, nearly crushing them under the junk of generations past.
They did the only thing they could have done. They ran.
They stumbled onto the front lawn mere seconds before the entire castle came crashing down. When the dust settled, they found themselves surrounded once more by black robed, masked Death Eaters. Knowing they were severely outnumbered, Ron immediately put up the strongest shielding spell he knew and Harry launched into the meditative state that would allow him to use the power locked inside him.
Within seconds, the majority of Voldemort's forces were treated to the same fate that had befallen their brethren on the night of Hermione's death. Those without the Dark Mark were taken care of quickly and efficiently.
They were still outnumbered almost 10 to 1, but their years of battle experience served them well. Soon enough, they were the last ones standing. They hadn't noticed the lone figure standing on the hill behind them until it was nearly too late. Ron, turning to survey the damage, had seen movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, a bolt of sickly green light was racing towards Harry. It would have hit him in the middle of his back if Ron hadn't pushed him out of the way, making the ultimate sacrifice for his last remaining friend and lover.
Harry remembered turning around to ask why Ron had pushed him and being confronted by the sightless blue eyes of his best friend staring out into infinity. Horrified emerald eyes rose to meet those of the Dark Lord on the hill. Silent tears ran in rivers down his face, leaving tracks in the blood and dirt.
Now, nearly an hour later, he stood over the corpse of his greatest foe and wondered how he could possibly move on with his life. Taking one last look around the body strewn battlefield in which he had lost his final companion, he raised his wand once more against his fallen enemy. The body burst into flames and soon there was nothing left of Lord Voldemort.
Several months after the final battle, Witches and Wizards began returning to their homes and coming out of hiding. Everyone rejoiced in the demise of the worst Dark Lord in history. Everyone, that is, except Harry Potter, the-man-who-conquered. While every one wanted to hold huge parties in his honor and thank him for making the Wizarding world safe once more, all he wanted was to be left alone.
On this particular morning, Harry sat at the kitchen table of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, nursing his morning cup of tea. He jumped and spilled his tea when he heard a tapping at the window. He looked over and saw a plain looking barn owl patiently waiting to be let in. Wearily he rose from the table, using his wand to clean up the tea and sending his cup to the sink before flicking it at the window to allow the bird to enter.
The owl perched on the back of the chair next to him and patiently held out its leg so Harry could take the letter from it. Once its mission had been accomplished, the bird flew out the window and Harry was alone once again.
Turning the letter over, he recognized the Gringotts crest. Curious now, he broke the wax seal and began to read.
Dear Mister Potter,
We at Gringotts would like to offer our condolences. We realize that this is long over due in some cases. Your presence is requested for the reading of the Wills of Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, William and Fleur Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin and Hermione Granger. Since you are the only remaining beneficiary of the above mentioned, we are available at your convenience. Please see any Gringotts Manager.
Gorvin G. Gravelhook
Having nothing better to do, Harry pulled on his hooded cloak, making sure the hood covered his face, and left the house, Apparating to the Gringotts lobby.
He walked slowly up to a free teller and requested one of the Managers on duty. Minutes later, he was ensconced in a richly appointed office sipping tea while he waited for the Manager to come with the wills.
The office door opened to reveal a wizened old Goblin wearing a three piece suit and carrying a folder almost as thick as one of Lockhart's books under one arm and a box that rattled slightly under the other. "Ah, Mr. Potter! I confess I wasn't expecting you so soon. My name is Gorvin Gravelhook. I am the executor of these wills."
Setting aside his tea cup, Harry rose to shake the Goblin's hand saying, "Yes, well, I was not doing anything terribly important when I received your letter."
"Good, good. I appreciate you seeing to this matter in a timely way." Gravelhook shuffled through the papers until he found what appeared to be his notes. "Now, to business. These are the last wills and testimonies of Messrs Black, Dumbledore, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley and Misses Weasley and Granger as well as Mr. and Mrs. Lupin.(1)
"You are named as the sole beneficiary of Messrs Black, Dumbledore and Ronald Weasley. These parchments simply state that you accept these estates and agree to any terms that may be placed on them. Please sign here, here and here."
Gravelhook slid a piece of parchment to Harry to sign. Before he picked up the pen, however, Harry had a question.
"What terms are there?"
Gravelhook shuffled through the parchments now littering his desk. "This is most irregular, Mr. Potter, but there don't seem to be any terms or conditions to any of your inheritances."
Satisfied that he wasn't going to have to give up part of his magical powers or his ability to have children (not that he wanted to without Hermione), Harry picked up the silver tipped quill and signed his name to the bottom of each paper. By the time he was done, Gravelhook was talking once more.
"Several of the Weasleys did not have wills. I believe that neither Frederick nor George Weasley had wills, nor did Percival Weasley. The laws of inheritance clearly state that their possession would revert to their oldest living relative. Therefore, as Mister Ronald Weasley was the last of his family, he inherited all of their possessions as well as his parents', sister's and half of Mister William Weasley's estate. The other half of William Weasley's estate goes to his wife's family. In his will, Ronald Weasley stated that everything should be left to you in the event that none of the Weasleys make it through the war."
The Goblin pushed yet another pile of papers towards Harry to sign. By then, his eyes were suspiciously moist.
"Next, we have the will of Miss Hermione Granger. Again, everything has been left to you and Ronald Weasley." He pushed another parchment towards Harry who signed it with a slightly shaking hand.
"Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Remus Lupin have also left everything to you. I understand that they had a small child, but that he also perished."
By that time, Harry was fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He nodded to indicate that Teddy Lupin had, in fact, been killed at the same time as his parents. Sorrow filled him when he thought of his young god son and it must have shown on his face.
"You are understandably upset, so I will not burden you with reading the actual wills. You may, of course, take a copy with you to read at your leisure." He began straightening the papers again and handed the folder to Harry. "These are all copies. You are welcome to take them with you. I have taken the liberty of conducting an inventory of each of your vaults. There are several pages worth for you to look through."
Gravelhook stood and said, "I must return to work. Feel free to use this office for as long as you need."
Harry thanked the Goblin and was soon left alone. Over the next several hours, Harry discovered that he was the owner of several private homes as well as part owner of several businesses. He decided that it was time to find a place to live. Or, at least try to live.
Gathering the folder and the box, in which he had discovered keys to all of his properties, he left the office to begin his tour. First stop, Albus Dumbledore's family home.
It took nearly six months for Harry to see each house and visit each vault, but he was done. It didn't take much thought on the matter before he chose Potter Manor as his home. The place was huge. And empty. It was just what he needed. Not to mention it had a huge library for all of Hermione's books.
He had found more books in the vaults, especially Dumbledore's. He removed all the books from the vaults and houses and put them in his library at Potter Manor, making sure to keep Hermione's books separate from the others. With all of the books assembled in one place, he was not surprised to find that he had roughly triple the amount of books at his disposal than the Hogwarts library had had. This may have been helped by the fact that Hermione had done her best to liberate all the books from Hogwarts after its fall.
He also found furniture in the vaults which he used to furnish several rooms in Potter Manor. He came to realize eventually that most of the furniture in the Potter family vault had probably come from Potter Manor in the first place, so he was really only returning it to it's proper place.
Harry cried when he went through the Twin's vault. For some reason, they had felt the need to leave their invention notes and recipes in their vault. He now had everything he needed to recreate all of their joke items. Every now and then, he would go down to his lab at Potter Manor and make a Portable Swamp or Wildfire Whiz-bang. He would set them off whenever he felt the need to remember the better times.
Eventually, everything was sorted out. Harry had the Goblins transfer all the non magical money and gems and such into one vault and packed the other things into the trunks that had served him and his friends so well in the war. He then made arrangements for someone to supply him with groceries and necessary items so he wouldn't have to make any public appearances and, with all of his loose ends tied up in a neat little bow, Harry Potter disappeared from the Wizarding world and was not seen again for over ten years.
During those years, Harry spent every waking moment reading in his library or sorting through the things he had inherited. Among these things were weapons, legal papers, portraits, clothes, magical devices, jewelry (both magical and mundane) and other odds and ends from generations gone by. He first went through the papers, learning about the documented weapons in the process. Many had charms and spells on them that would have been extremely useful in the war, if they had only known about them.
He paid homage to Hermione's memory by reading every single book they had collected, even the duplicates. He read about all of the Hogwarts subjects and became an expert in each of them, even potions. He became adept at using wandless and wordless magic and, even though he would never need it again, he also studied Occlumency and Legilimency. He completed the Animagus transformation without the Twins' potion and learned what he could about using his Animagus abilities to mimic those of the Metamorphmagus.
When he was done with Hermione's books, he made his way through the rest. The Black family books were, of course some of the darkest in his collection, but he read and studied them just the same. In the end, if he had cared to, he could have taken the mastery tests and gotten every single question right, becoming the youngest master of multiple fields in history.
Each night, after he could read no more, he would sit in front of the fire and drink himself into a stupor, just so he could forget for a couple of hours. Indeed, this was often the only way he could have a dreamless sleep. He had developed a tolerance for the sleeping potions, so they no longer worked for him. This was the best he could do, short of knocking himself out.
One night in a drunken rage, sick with self recrimination and blaming himself for not killing the madman quickly enough to save his loved ones, Harry threw glasses, books, and knick-knacks and anything else he could lay hands on at the walls, swept things off tables and, in general, destroyed the parlor of Potter Manor. He finally wore himself out and, collapsing onto the rug, gave in to his soul crushing despair. Deep, heart wrenching sobs tore through him, keeping him from drawing a full breath. Tears coursed down his unshaven face, mingling with the sweat of his exertions. Finally, after purging his raging emotions, Harry passed out among the wreckage.
The next morning, Harry awoke with a massive hangover to the evidence of his depravation. He started picking things up and putting them back where they belonged making use of his wand to set the room to rights. About an hour and 50 Reparo charms later, he had the room looking as it had the night before. Just as he was leaving the room to get himself cleaned up, he noticed one last book that had somehow fallen under the sofa.
Bending down to retrieve it, he read the title, almost out of habit.
'Portals to the Past'
By Portia Tempest
'That's funny. I don't remember having this book.' Harry sat back on the sofa and opened the thin, leather bound book, hoping to lose himself in it so he would have a moment's respite from the memories that had been crowding in on him since the night before. Distractedly, he noticed that there were no identifying marks that would tell him who had owned this book before. No Hogwarts crest, no Seal of the House of Potter, Black or Dumbledore… nothing at all. There was just the title and the author's name. The first page had a hand written note from the author.
If you can see this book, then congratulations are in order, or perhaps condolences. Only those with a pure heart and a true desire to see things put to right can see this book. That being said, I urge you to keep an open mind while reading the pages within, but make sure you think for yourself as well. The knowledge found between these covers is not to be trifled with. It can be dangerous and if you chose to follow this path, the road ahead may be fraught with many perils.
With these warnings, I wish you fair travels and good luck. You will undoubtedly need it.
Finding this odd, but needing a distraction anyway, he ignored the chill of foreboding and read through the first couple of paragraphs. He nearly dropped the book in shock.
Have you ever wished you could turn back then hands of time? Go back to the point where everything seemed to fall apart and do it better the next time? While most scholars would tell you that it is impossible, I am here to tell you different and to show you how to open the portals to the past.
There are many different types of portals to choose from. The most common is now employed by the Ministry of Magic and used to create Time Turners. These portals transport the user's body back in time, up to 24 hours in the most advanced models. While this is an effective form of Travel, not much can be changed and with the distrust inherent in most magical people, it is extremely dangerous to be seen by your past self. There have been several reports of people killing themselves or worse.
Harry remembered Hermione saying something like that in their third year. He blinked his eyes rapidly to keep the tears from falling and kept reading.
Another form of Travel involves sending things back in time. This form is generally used to send letters of warning and such back to the younger self. Naturally, this form is only useful if the recipient knows what is going on. If not, many times they will simply disregard the warnings of their future selves, believing it to be someone's idea of a joke, and end up in the same situation that they were trying to prevent in the first place.
"No help there." Harry muttered to himself.
The last form that I will be discussing in this guide is the least known. While it is the most helpful in terms of righting past wrongs, it is also the most difficult and dangerous.
As you may know, the soul, that which makes us who we are, is only anchored to our bodies as long as we draw breath. In specific cases, such as when ghosts are made, the soul will remain on this plane of existence even after the body has ceased to function. This phenomenon will be employed in the Travel of the Soul ritual. In this ritual, the castor's soul may be sent back to any time in that person's life... with all memories and magical powers in tact.
Harry's eyebrows crept up into his hair line and his breath hitched as his eyes flew over the page. Before he knew it, he had finished the book and sat on the sofa, staring into space. He felt something stir in his chest… something that felt suspiciously like hope.
I know that I have not finished Temptation of Time yet, trust me, it's still alive… I'm just waiting on some reviews (hint, hint). If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it… not that I'm biased or anything . Naturally, I will finish it someday (probably not soon, but we'll see.), but until then, this little plot bunny has been hopping around my house, making a mess and generally cluttering up my life for the past month or so. Therefore, I have confined it to the computer! Ha! Take that, plot bunny! Seriously, have you ever owned a rabbit? They're disgusting! Very soft, but very dirty! Bleh. Never again!
Just so you know… reviews make the world go round. And they make chapters magically lengthen and appear much faster than they normally would. I'm just saying.
I've put a lot of detail into this chapter (12 pages in Word!) so it could either be a stand alone one shot (though I'd really like him to use the portals) or I could continue it. Let me know in your review if you think I should continue or not.
I've had a lot of people tell me that HxHrxR squicks! THIS IS NOTa threesome fic! This will be HxHr eventually.
Please read all of the chapters (not just scanning) before flaming. If you flame about something that isn't in this story, I will laugh at you. Publicly.
Thanks for reading!
(1) (…Messrs Black, Dumbledore, Weasley, Weasley and Weasley and Misses Weasley …) In case you couldn't follow it, that was Arthur, Bill, Ron and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley's will was combined with her husbands and, for some reason, Ginny had a will… don't ask me why… I do not know.