Turning Time (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

The Magic Quill, pt. 1

Chapter Two

The Magic Quill

Harry decided it was a good time to add his name to the list. He could go back in time to eleven years ago and add his name. That would make that day, August 4th, his birthday. 

He Apparated to Hogsmeade, which was cloaked in darkness. Lights illuminated the street he was on, and a few of the store windows were lit, but those were the only signs of life. He went to noon earlier that day, so he wouldn’t need magic to see. Now a few people were out and about in the town, but that wouldn’t be a problem, since he was underneath his invisibility cloak.  

Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map and unfolded it. He would need it—obviously—to locate the quill and make sure no one spotted him. After checking the map several times over, he saw only Filch and Hagrid on the Hogwarts grounds, with no signs of a quill. Harry hadn’t been expecting to see it on the map, but it would’ve helped him out.  

At least he had some idea of where it could be. He remembered Hermione saying something a while ago like, “…yes, and the Deputy Head of Hogwarts sends out the letters to the students recorded in the book. It’s all in Hogwarts, a History; I’m surprised you didn’t know…” This meant Professor McGonagall dealt with the quill and the book…so it could possibly be in her office. At least Harry had something to work with. 

He could enter the school through the Shrieking Shack—the easiest way, since trying to get in through Honeydukes would most likely set off some sort of alarm. After a short ways of walking, Harry reached the fence that blocked off the area surrounding the broken-down house. It was strange being here at this time of year, when there was no one around. It was peaceful, but kind of eerie. He paused, studying the spot where he had scared away Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in his third year. 

Harry had spent considerable time reflecting on his childish rivalry with Draco. He had been very narrow-minded in hating him—there were worse people, and Draco was just acting as he was raised. In the end, he had helped Harry, a sign he was headed in a better direction. Sadly, just like Snape, there could’ve been a way to help Draco if Harry had seen the situation differently. And, also like Snape, Harry suspected him for every bad thing that happened at school. 

Harry was sure Malfoy had tried removing the Dark Mark, but even with the Mark he would forever be notorious for serving Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy had already been sent to Azkaban, but his son and wife are still due for a trial. Harry didn’t tell anyone this, but he hoped Draco was declared innocent. He didn’t voice this opinion mainly because the whole Weasley family hated the Malfoys. Hermione and Luna may have been a little more sympathetic toward Draco, but they didn’t always act like it. As soon as the father’s sentence was announced in the paper, they all were cheering and discussing the things they hated most about him. This Harry didn’t mind, but eventually they got to the topic of Draco.

Ron had recalled when they first met him. “I hated him from the time I first laid eyes on him. So he barges into our compartment, acting like he owned the place. He insulted us, our magical abilities, told us we had dirt on our noses…” He smirked at Hermione. “Oh whoops, wrong person, sorry.” He laughed as Hermione let out a gasp of defiance and hit him with a pillow, pretending to be outraged. It was one of those throw-an-insult-then-kiss moments they often shared. Neville cleared his throat, and the two seemed to suddenly remember that there were other people around them.

Ron’s ears turned red and he edged away from Hermione. “Er…well, as I was saying…Oh! Right, Draco. He always had a problem with us. I can’t count how many times I wanted to hurt him. When Hermione slapped him…Wow. That was bloody brilliant.” He gave Hermione a lopsided smile and she returned it, looking pleased. “And there was this one time, in Care of Magical Creatures…”