Turning Time (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

The List, pt. 1

Harry awoke to the loud rush of a train coming by on the tracks. At least, he thought that was the cause until he spotted Severus, who had just closed the room door.

“It’s raining. I brought food,” Severus said, setting a bag down on the table.

“Thanks. Er, you went out? What time is it?”

“Ten.” Severus hesitated as he opened the wrapping on a loaf of bread. “Are we still doing the thing tonight?”

Harry put his glasses on and walked over to help Severus set up breakfast. “I promised you, didn’t I? But only if you think you can handle whatever we find.” 

“I can.” 

For every weekend over the past summer, Harry and Severus had stayed in the Leaky Cauldron Inn. By the time Friday arrived each week, Severus was, in his usual suppressed, subtle way, eager to see Harry. He no longer had Lily to spend time with, and his parents were either absent or angry. 

Harry had sold many of his things to pay for room fees, school supplies, and a few luxuries, such as ice cream. He was careful to only sell things that could’ve been found in the 70s and that were of monetary value but not of importance. 

Severus never spoke about Lily, the memories, or even James. He didn’t speak much at all, but that didn’t mean he cared less about Harry. It meant he cared less about life. He appeared healthier and stronger, but he had only achieved that by detaching himself.

That night, the last night of August, Harry put a few basic disguise charms on Severus. They dressed in all black and the hoods on their robes shadowed their faces.

The air outside was warm, the sun was setting, and Diagon Alley was packed. That was ideal, because the more people in the area, the easier it would be to go unnoticed. 

Severus and Harry waited for Eileen to Apparate by the Leaky Cauldron for a pint, as she did every time they had seen her before work. They never saw her face, but she was recognizable by her husky, drawling voice. That evening, as with every evening, she flirted with the bartender before dropping a few sickles on the counter and leaving. Her heels clicked on the cobblestone road, through the archway into Nocturne Alley, and into a two-story brick building. 

A stocky, balding man nodded Eileen inside. After another group was allowed in, Harry Confunded the man, despite Severus’ whispers against it. They slipped through the door before the man recovered. For a moment, they stood, adjusting to the dim, smoky atmosphere. The only sources of light were from the candles lining the wall and the colored flames at the center of each table in the place. There was a stage in back where women wearing black, knee-length dresses were performing. Men drank, laughed, whistled, and flipped coins at the stage. When the coin reached the stage, it vanished, then illuminated the dress of whichever woman was closest, turning it transparent for a number of seconds that depended on the amount paid. Around the tables, women brought drinks to customers, sometimes joining the groups if they were tipped generously enough. 

“Let’s go,” Harry said, head spinning. He could hardly hear or think over the music. 

“Not yet.” Severus’ gaze passed over the room, moving back and forth for several minutes. He spotted Eileen before Harry, who was only capable of recognizing her by her clothing. Eileen’s hood was pulled back to reveal a heavily make-upped face. Harry recognized the pride she had shown when he met her, even when she was at a low point in her already low-pointed life. Eileen seemed confident as she guided the drinks she was levitating from head level. She crossed the club floor and set the drinks down at a table with several drunk men all around fifty or sixty years old. The men paid for the drinks, and she appeared to ask something like, “There somethin’ else I can get you lot?”