It's Christmas Time Again: A Time-Traveling TMS Holiday Extravaganza

Seconds After I'd Left

I'll never forget how surreal it felt, sitting at the Ravenclaw table that first time, watching Oliver, Wally, and Dexter at Gryffindor, as they laughed and talked. Oliver Kent come to life - and my own age - it was just so weird. Like watching a muggle biographical film. I could barely tear my eyes away, even when the kid next to me kept pestering me, asking obnoxious questions about my clothes and the keychains and pins on my bag, and, worse, repeatedly saying he didn't recognize me.

I knew I couldn't stay long - I did, after all, have Christmas dinner to get to at home. My gran would absolutely lose her mind if I wasn't on that train when it arrived at Platform 9 3/4. Ever since my Mum died, Gran's been incredibly uptight and overprotective - especially about me. My first year at Hogwarts, she only let me ride the Express because she knew a family friend would be on board, commuting in to his teaching position. If she hadn't known Professor Longbottom so well, she probably would have boarded the train herself.

Thank gods for Professor Longbottom.

Nothing I can imagine would be more embarrassing than your gran riding the bloody Express with you.

So I had to get back to Hogsmeade in my own time as quick as possible so I had time to figure out how to get to London before Gran figured out I wasn't on the Express - otherwise I could kiss all the cool stuff I had planned for the holidays goodbye. She'd never let me out of her sights again if I wasn't on that train.

But it sure was hard convincing myself to leave when Oliver Kent (!)7 was right there.

Near to impossible.

I forced myself to get up and when I did, I tripped on the bench seat because (as I'm reminded frequently by my Gran, my godfather, and everyone I know who knew her) I am my mother's son - aka, about as graceful as a morologus dragon (which, according to one of my myriad of non-blood-related uncles, is a very clumsy dragon which reminds him of my mum). I came very near to face planting into the Hufflepuff table, just barely catching myself from falling.

"Watch where you're going!" complained a Hufflepuff girl.

"Sorry," I muttered as I stood as I turned to leave the Great Hall.

I froze.

Coming down the aisle toward me was ---

My godfather.

But it couldn't be.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

I stared in awe as I did the calculations rapidly in my head. Would Oliver Kent have been at Hogwarts at the same time as my godfather?

Wait, no.

No of course not.

Oliver Kent died the day after the end of the Triwizard Tournament - the Tournament Harry Potter competed in in 1994. Oliver Kent was about to turn thirty. He was one of the "twenty-nine club" - a list of celebrities, both muggle and magical, who died tragically at the age of 29.

So why the hell was I staring at Harry Potter right now? And what the hell was he doing at Hogwarts? Had Gran already found out I wasn't on the Express? Did Albus tell them about the Turner he gave me? Did the Ministry have another secret Turner for him to use to come and collect me?

Shite - I was in a whole world of trouble if he had done.

My stomach whorled with nerves.

Was turning time a punishable offense?

Could I go to freaking Azkaban for this???

Panic attack number two in the last twenty four hours started gripping me and I felt my nerves snap into chaos, vertigo, breathlessness... the works...