Tenures in Time

Do You Remember?

Chapter Twelve

Sarah felt her vision blur once again, as she landed in a heap, with a painful thump, on a polished wooden floor. She sat up quickly.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice echoing in the large room. It was very old, with ageing paintings of different wizards all wearing elaborate robes of a different era. Sarah's stomach plummeted slightly. She had intended to take them to see this, but now she wasn't so sure about it. She was even less sure when Slytherin grasped her hand, and helped her up.

Without thinking, she held on to his arm, waiting for her dizzy spell to run it's course. Once her vision straightened, and the room became even clearer, she let go, feeling nauseous.

Slytherin frowned at her, his cold blue eyes boring into hers. She looked away instinctively, pretending to examine a prostate statue of a man that had occupied the corner of the room for as long as she could remember.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, coming to stand beside her. She jolted in surprise. Tearing her eyes away from the ivory statue, she grinned delightedly.

"Harry! I can understand you!" she hugged him.

"Finally, Sarah!" Harry returned the gesture. "So what're you doing here? And where are we?"

"Only the last one should constitute and answer at present," came a sharp voice. Ravenclaw was striding towards them, metallic blue robes billowing behind her like rippling waves. Hufflepuff followed closely behind, resembling a daisy with her buttery robes. She was glancing around with unmasked curiosity, her blue eyes wide.

"Agreed," Gryffindor said, joining their circle. Leo stayed back, eyeing the surroundings warily. "Well Leo?"

"Nobody here at the moment, and no sign of danger," he said slowly, straightening his disheveled robes of black.

"Sarah, where are we? This is a memory," Slytherin said. His long thin fingers were clasped in front of him, and he looked at her with an expectant reaction.

Sarah felt her face flush slightly, remembering what she had brought them here to see.

"Bring in the next one!" A man bellowed. They all jumped, spinning around to see a portly man in his forties, sitting on and old, but large, oak chair, intricately carved with patterns of swirls, constructing lettering Sarah had never been able to understand. Sarah immediately recognized herself beside him, dark haired, dark eyed and all angles.

"That's you, isn't it Sarah?" Harry exclaimed, pointing towards her past self. Sarah nodded stiffly. "Is the other man your father?"

"No," Sarah murmured.

"Then who is he? What's happening here?" Slytherin's tone became knife-like as the heavy door slammed open. Two men, their masks glinting in the bare light that managed to reach into the room, were dragging in a woman with lank, matted hair. her robes were torn, and her body was peppered with scratches and bruises. She was struggling viciously, and it was when the guards forcefully held her straight, did they see her swollen belly.

Hufflepuff gasped.

Harry narrowed his eyes, and shot Sarah a look. She refused to reciprocate, keeping her gaze firmly on the woman. She wanted to remember every squirm and every wince of pain.

The woman began screaming, the sound bouncing off the wall, and hitting the onlookers with a force that had Ravenclaw tightening her hand around her wand.

Finally, the woman's slow passage ended with her being thrown in front of the large, pompous man, and Sarah's past self. The man stood languidly from his chair, snatching a roll of parchment from one of the quivering attendants standing behind him.