A couple people mentioned that there were worst memories for Snape to have seen, but keep in mind that what he did see was a very private moment for Harry. To Harry, it was something he'd never want Snape to see. I believe there were worse things for him to see, and I even tried a couple different drafts of that scene with different memories… but there's so many emotions tied to the forest scene. It felt right.

I had exams for all four classes, so I'm surprised I managed to get a chapter out so quickly, because summer started today for me. Today, as in, I wrote my last exam this morning. Funny enough, I had a case of chronic earworm during every exam. The only thing passing through my head was, "Let's do the time warp AGAIN!"

The Time Warp Saga

Harry and Draco get stuck in a paradox. Now they have to re-live their Hogwarts years. Over and over. And over. And—

Warp One

Harry Potter wakes up one morning in the body of his ten-year-old self. This time around, he declares, no way anyone's going to die! -And it's gonna be totally awesome- "That's a lot harder than you think, Potter. People shouldn't meddle with time." Little did they know…

Book 5, Chapter 25:The Beetle at Bay.

Warp 1, Year 5 (part 8), Chapter 36: Realization

Gathered around the Gryffindor table, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna were having a discussion in hushed tones. On the table, between the breakfast plates and glasses of pumpkin juice, sat a copy of the Daily Prophet. The heading of the Prophet that day had everyone in the hall talking and the Dream Team was no exception.

"This is bad," Ron whispered.

"It's horrible," Neville agreed.

"It's bad news," Hermione whispered. "What'll we do?"

"The Noble Newts aren't going to like this."

Ron, Neville, and Hermione all turned and gawked at Luna. She gave them a casual smile, twirled her scrambled egg around her spoon, and ate her meal as if nothing abnormal was happening.

"Seriously?" said Hermione, her voice dry. "You're talking about Noble Newts at a time like this."

Luna nodded cheerily.

Hermione placed her fingers against her forehead and began to breathe deeply. She did not want a Luna-induced headache so early in the day.

"I think it's perfectly appropriate," said a voice suddenly from behind them. "The Noble Newts can't survive within a mile of people like Death Eaters. They definitely won't like this breakout."

"Not you again," she groaned. "Harry, I've said it once and I'll say it again: stop encouraging her!" Luna looked mildly offended and Harry simply laughed. "How'd you know what happened, anyways?"

Harry shrugged. "Since when did I not know what's going on? It's not like anyone will be able to move five feet without hearing it mentioned today! What does the article say, anyways?" Without Sirius around to blame, he wondered how the Ministry could deny Voldemort's existence.

Hermione held up the paper for him to read the headline.

Rouge werewolf prime suspect in mass Azkaban breakout.

Harry groaned.

"It gets worse," said Neville.

Hermione nodded. "Not only are they using Moony as a scapegoat—"

"And putting the blame on him," added Ron, who, for once, was not speaking with his mouth full at a mealtime. Hermione ignored him.

"— they're also using it as more proof against allowing werewolves to exist!"

"This is bad," said Neville.

"It's horrible," agreed Ron.

Harry shook his head in disgust. "It's weak. They're digging their own graves."

Hermione nodded. "It is weak." She frowned. "But they've been working on the anti-werewolf propaganda for some time. Some wizards haven't an ounce of logic. It won't be hard for the Ministry to convince them it's the truth."

Harry sat beside Ron and took the newspaper from Hermione. The others gave their attention to their meals, and Harry began to flip through the pages.

"I don't see any more references to Moony," observed Harry. "Anything else interesting?"

"Page ten," said Neville weakly.

Harry flipped to page ten and immediately winced.

Tragic demise of Ministry of Magic worker.

He completely forgot about the Ministry of Magic worker strangled in St. Mungos. Despite being such a small detail, he remembered being horrified about it at the time and he immediately wished he did something.

He had the chance to do something and he had not remembered

A wave of nausea overtook him. The man— he could not remember his name and scanned the article for it quickly (Bode)— had been in Neville's parent's ward.

He looked to Neville and noticed for the first time his horrified face. Neville glanced over and they caught each other's eyes. His friend must have noticed his questioning gaze because he whispered across the table, "I was there."


"The guy was in..." Neville paused and glanced around. When he was sure nobody was listening in, he continued. "He was in my parents' ward. I should have noticed. I know what Devil's Snare looks like…"

"It's not your fault," said Harry. "Who expects to find Devil's Snare disguised as a gift in a hospital at Christmas?" If anything, it was his. It happened before and Harry knew it. It slipped his mind and somebody died because of it. He pressed his face into his hands. His fault.

Neville immediately recognized the look. "It's not your fault, either!" he said. "You weren't even there."

For the life of him, Harry could not remember why the Death Eaters killed Bode. It seemed such an unimportant thing when responsibilities began to pile up and he forgot the incident ever happened. Somewhere in his brain, the memory of the day they first read about the Azkaban breakout merged with everything that happened fifth year and, though he knew there was something important he was forgetting, he could not remember it.

He watched the man smiling at him from the picture and tried to place him in his memory, but he could only remember the image of the sickly man in the hospital bed.

He knew he saw the Bode before, but he could not remember how important Bode was.

Whether the man was important or not, he was a life lost to Harry's carelessness and that made all the difference in the world.

"Don't look now," whispered Neville, jolting Harry from his thoughts, "but Snape is coming this way."

Harry winced. "You're kidding, right?"

"I never kid about Professor Snape."

Against his better judgment, Harry looked. Snape's determined expression held steady and his cold, black eyes locked onto Harry's nervous, emerald eyes. Quickly, Harry looked away. "I have to go," he said to his friends.

"You've barely touched your breakfast," said Hermione. "Either you're finally taking SPEW seriously—"

"Not ever going to happen," Ron whispered to Neville.

"— or something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, Hermione," he insisted. "I just don't want to be here. In this seat. In this room. At this moment."

She raised her eyebrows. "Right?"

Harry gave her a weak smile and a shrug and stood up. Turning around to make his exit, he found himself face to face with the one person he did not want to see.

"Potter," said Snape, "your detention will be served with me after dinner tonight, in my office."

"What detention?" If he remembered correctly— and he was sure he did— Snape did not give him a detention. "What for?"

"The one you are being given now for mouthing off yesterday." Snape paused. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and roughly pulled him aside. "What was that?" he hissed.

"What was what?" Harry replied.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You know very well what I'm talking about, Potter—"

A loud crashing noise cut off the accusation. Both Harry and Snape broke eye contact and stared at the source of the noise. Ginny Weasley lay sprawled across the floor, covered in somebody's breakfast. Above her stood a pair of Slytherin twins Harry assumed were Flora and Hestia Carrow, holding plates with only crumbs.

"Awe," mocked one of the girls, "is the little blood traitor going to cry now?"

The girls seemed unaware the entire Great Hall had gone silent and every person in it had stopped what they had been doing to watch the scene unfold.

Ginny's eyes welled up with tears and the other girl laughed. "Oh, look, she is going to cry!"

"I'm not surprised," replied the first twin.

The other twin nodded. "Frankly, neither am I. Weasley, you're such a bore."

Harry watched Ginny carefully. He expected her to stand up and hex them into the next week, but she did not. The broken girl on the floor simply looked away and bit her lip. Her hair fell in front of her face and the tiny redhead seemed to be using it as a shield from her tormenters.

Harry was the one who finally stepped in. "If she's such a bore, why don't you just leave her alone?" he yelled across the hall to them.

At that moment, Flora and Hestia finally realized they had an audience. Likewise, the spell of shock that overcame the audience finally broke and at one, three different teachers yelled, "Detention," and four more took various amounts of points from Slytherin house.

All other members of the Weasley family— Fred, George, and Ron— jumped to their sister's side and pointed their wands to the two girls. The girls drew their wands, but the second they did, the wands flew out of their hands. Harry glanced back at Snape, beside him. The two girls' Head of House had his wand drawn and pointed at them.

"Miss Carrow and Miss Carrow." He addressed them in a menacing voice that he only reserved for the most annoying of students. "My office. Now."

"Yes, Professor Snape," they said together. The twins trailed after him out of the hall and into the dungeons.

Fred and George sat Ginny down at the table beside the Dream Team. Luna immediately picked up a napkin and began to wipe the pieces of egg from her face. "Did they drop food all over you?" she asked.

Ginny looked down and focused intently on her hands, folded in her lap. "Yes," she whispered.

"That's horrible," said Hermione.

"It's nothing new," said Ginny.

"When did it start happening?" asked Harry, still standing in the walkway between tables, over Ginny's shoulder.

Ginny turned to him. Her broken face struck a nerve and he grasped her shoulder but she moved away. "A while ago," she said.

"You're stronger than this," he told her. "You're better than them."

Quietly, she replied, "I know." She sighed. "I've never done anything to them. I don't know why—"

"Miss Weasley?" Professor McGonagall interrupted from behind Harry. "Come to my office."

Ginny followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall and, for a moment, it felt like the issue was resolved.

Harry refused to be optimistic. He needed to keep an eye on this development.

Harry found that avoiding Snape the rest of the day was as easy as the rest of the Dream Team found worming an explanation for Hagrid's brutal injuries from the half-giant. That is to say, neither of the pursuits progressed very well.

Every corner Harry turned, Snape waited impatiently for him. He considered skipping the entire day and spending it in the Gryffindor dorms, but he would not be surprised if Snape went looking for him there if he did.

On the other hand, the mystery of Hagrid kept the attention of Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna; they did not notice Harry's eccentricities of the day. Harry had not realized his old friend still sported the large gashes in his face from Grawp until he noticed his friends obsessing over it. He never noticed he barely paid any attention to Hagrid anymore. The Dream Team, on the other hand, paid much attention to Hagrid and set their sights on discovering his secret.

By lunchtime, Harry was exhausted. He shuffled to the Great Hall, lagging behind the rest of the Dream Team and let out a sigh. Suddenly, he felt something grab his shoulder and that something dragged him into the secret passageway he was passing.

For a moment, he thought Snape finally corner him. He turned to his kidnapper, ready to throw a fit of hysterics, and despite the dark, knew immediately who found him.



The two stared at each other for a moment, neither knowing exactly how to start their conversation.

Malfoy spoke first. "We need to break into Gringotts as soon as possible."

Harry pressed his hand to his face and sighed. "Any ideas on how we might accomplish that?"

He shrugged. "You're the one who decided to change everything," he said, his voice unexpectedly not accusing and more passive than he ever remembered Malfoy speaking before on the subject. "You should figure it out," he sneered, friendly demeanor broken.

Harry gave a sarcastic-sounding laugh and glared at his ally, despite the fact his ally probably could not see it. "After how well my last plan went? Not likely. Not on my own." His mocking smile fell and he sighed again. "We don't even know if Voldemort realized somebody knew about his horcruxes."

"Wouldn't you have felt it?"

"I can't be sure."

"Either way, he likely thinks the Cup is safest of all. He doesn't yet have a reason to mistrust the Lestranges and Gringotts is supposed to be impenetrable."

Harry paused. He leaned against the wall of the cramped passageway and said, "I probably would have felt it if he actually checked his horcruxes and realized they were all gone."

"That's the optimistic Harry we all know and utterly loathe!"

Harry found Malfoy in the dark and smacked his shoulder lightly. "Quit it. This is serious—"


"I said," growled Harry, "this is serious!"

"Got it," said Malfoy. "Continue."

Harry rolled his eyes. "The point is, although he mightn't have checked it yet, he might've been too busy with the Azkaban breakout to bother."

"Right," said Malfoy, his tone full of doubt and Harry could picture the matching look that probably graced his face. "This is Voldemort we're talking about, Potter. Remember?"

"How could I forget?""

"Then you must remember that these things are the key to his immortality."

Harry sighed. "He's arrogant."

"True," agreed Malfoy.

"If anybody knows how Voldemort thinks, it's me. He's arrogant. I'll bet you any amount of money he thinks his horcruxes are too safe for anybody to reach. In light of the situation right now— that is, his lack of power— I'm sure getting followers was above checking on five super-protected objects he's sure are impossible to be stolen."

"But now?"

"Now? What do you think?"

"Like I said, we need to get in there as soon as possible."

Harry placed his face in his hands and pressed the tips of his fingers against his forehead. Exasperated, he allowed his knees to give out and slid to the floor. Above him, he heard Malfoy shuffling around his outstretched legs and finally sat across from him. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark the best they could, and Harry could see the outline of his ally's body as he moved around to make himself comfortable.

"We don't want our break in to be like the last genius plan," Harry finally said. "I'm not a good planner. I never really realized it, but now that I think about it… this whole mess is my fault. I should've taken out Voldemort first year, rescued Sirius before he had to rescue himself, not allowed Ginny to go through that with the diary… and not fail Potions this year. Look at me, Malfoy. Twenty-five and I can't pass a fifth-year Potions class properly."

"There, there," Malfoy said, awkwardly doing his best at a comforting voice and failing. He pat the closest part of Harry's body to him— his leg— a couple times and then retreated.

"I… I… it shouldn't have turned out this way. I should've been able to do everything. You know, kick butt and take names and look cool while doing it! Now we're in this terrible mess and Voldmort might catch on to what we're doing, I'm neglecting my friends, Snape saw a very private moment that happens two year into the future, and Remus is a wanted fugitive because I can't do it right!" By the end of his small speech, Harry was yelling and crying. The only comforting thought he could think of was that Malfoy could not actually see his face in the unlighted passageway while he poured out his heart to him.

Neither spoke for a very long time. They simply sat in silence, listening to the distance sounds of the busy castle on the other side of the hidden door. They both registered the ring of the bell signaling the end of lunch but neither even flinched, let alone stand up and make their way to the next class.

Finally, Malfoy could take it no longer. "I'll do it," he said quietly.


"I'll do it," he repeated, a little louder. "I'll do the planning from now on. I'm the Slytherin, here. Remember? Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends." Harry did not respond; he knew not what to say. "I'll do it," he said again.

"Then, oh great strategist, what shall I do about Snape?"

There was a pause. "I'll get back to you on that."