#198 words

thump thump

"So I see you are leaving again"

Remus turned form packing to find sad green eyes and a mop of red hair staring at him "Yeah"

"You got here yesterday"

"I know," Remus turned away from Lily "you know how missions are."

"Does he even know you are home?"

thump thump

Remus closed his eyes, fighting back tears. "Not sure"

"We all miss yo-"

"Why do you all keep pretending like I am the only one leaving all the time, we all are. It's a war. Dumbledore said not to talk about our missions. Do you even know where James is right now?" He began shoving things in his bag.

"No, but-"

"But what? He's with Sirius? But he isn't a werewolf? "

"I never said that"

thump thump "I have to go, Lils" He zipped up his bag, turning to the door and began walking past his best friend when she reached to grab his forearm.

"I'm pregnant"

thump thump

Remus sighed and turned to look at her. "I know"

She nodded and let go of his arm. Remus leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to walk out the door.

Harry never thought he’d be sneaking into the Hogwarts library at night with anyone besides Hermione or Ron. And yet here he is for the sixth night in a row, in a bubble of conjured light, working elbow-to-elbow with Draco Malfoy.

“Surely these can’t all be relevant,” Harry complains. He takes a book from the tower in front of him. “Magical Reptiles of Central America—really?”

Malfoy blinks up at Harry. “We need to cast a wider net if we’re going to fix this. When the obvious lines of research fail, you have to come at the problem from a different direction.”

He lifts his book again, one elegant finger sliding down the page as he reads. Harry’s eyes follow the faint line of tiny golden links that floats between their wrists, connecting them. It’s getting brighter every day. Sometimes Harry imagines he can feel the brush of the chain against his skin, like a whispered incantation. Sometimes he wants to catch Malfoy’s sleeve, slip free the emerald cufflink, and press his mouth there to see if he can taste metal.

Sometimes Harry is tempted to say, maybe this isn’t a problem we need to solve at all.

“How what happened?” A teen with a red scarf around his neck stepped up next to the man.

“This… all this.” He made a wide gesture to the cityscape around them. “Somehow, my heirs rose up and built all this…”

The teen gave him a look.

“… When are you from?”

“When?” The man blinked and brushed off his lapels. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“… Do you know what year it is?” He asked, fiddling with his earbuds hanging from his pocket. “It’s 2013.”

“…” The man fell silent and gazed at the ground. “I seem to have had quite an accident…”

“What do you mean, an accident?”

“Last I remember, we approached 1923…”

The teen raised an eyebrow at that.

“What do you mean, approached?”

“Oh… well, you see, Mr. Wells was showing us a trick, by way of travelling forward decades into the future… I see now he must have miscalculated. Thanks for your… time.” The man smirked as he walked down the hill.

The teen stood there for a while.