✔𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 | HP time travel

𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙻𝚅𝙴

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❁ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ❁

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The weeks following were absolute torture for everyone. Ophelia's decision to avoid Harry at all costs was causing a strain on not only their friendship, but on the whole group. The poor boy was left dumbfound as he tried to figure out why his best friend was ignoring him. Of course he knew it had something to do with the fact that he had kissed Cho a week ago, and yes he had become closer to the Ravenclaw girl, but he couldn't seem to understand why she was hurt by the matter.

Hermione and Ron had become torn between the two, as Hermione was spending her time comforting Ophelia, whilst Ron was doing the same with Harry, both of them overcome with guilt by not spending time with their other friends.

And the marauders, well that was a different story. The group had become torn and confused with the spilt between their friends, and of course, the stress of being stuck years in the future wasn't helping much either. Sirius and James has spent the week complaining that their hair was turning gray with the amount of stress they were under.

But alas, it was the week Hogwarts broke up for Christmas, which brought a slight hope to the group. Hogwarts had changed, and it continued to change. It was no longer the happy place that many called home. There was a difference in the atmosphere around Hogwarts, and no one could deny it. Usually, students would love to stay in school for the holidays, but this year was different.

During winter, Hogwarts was a warm place and offered shelter from the harsh weather that winter brought. However, this year it seemed just as cold as outside.

The weather outside grew colder and Christmas drew closer. The air was changing outside. The castle grounds were covered in white, like always. The black lake had been frozen over, the trees were bare and the cold weather had sent the habitants that lived on the Hogwarts grounds to seek comfort in their homes. It was a cold and bitter winter. It was the sort of cold winter that would freeze the blood of even the coldest of souls. 

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That night, it seemed to be even colder than the rest. Ophelia tossed and turned in her bed, and continuously pulled the three duvets that she had required even closer to her. She had a weird feeling that she couldn't shake, meaning it was impossible for her to fall asleep.

She lay awake, listening to the soft snores of Hermione next to her, and she debated smuggling the girl, just for a second, so that she would no longer have to hear her snores.

She got herself into yet another position, and just as she was about to close her eyes, the dorm room door opened, revealing a clearly distressed McGonagall. Ophelia had no time to register what was happening before the girls were all rushed out of bed and to Dumbledore's office.

Ophelia's mind was racing. The only thing on her mind was her dad. She was over come with worry that something had happened to her dad, had he been caught? Was he dead? Is he safe? She let herself worry about the worst possible scenarios.

Despite everything that had happened the last week, the only person she wanted right now was Harry. Yes she was mad at him. Yes she was hurt because she felt things for the boy she had never felt before. But all that didn't matter right now. She needed him.

So when the door to Dumbledore's office swung open, and she saw Harry stood there, shaking and sweaty, she wasted no time in rushing and embracing the boy.

'What happened?' she whispered to him as she held him close, not caring that he was dripping with sweat.

'I don't know'

Ophelia let go of the boy, and it was then that she noticed Dumbledore, stood there in a magnificent purple and gold dressing gown that was covering a white night shirt, and despite it being the middle of the night, the headmaster was as awake as ever.

He was stood talking to some of the portraits on the walls of his office, his eyebrows furrowed and he seemed in deep concentration.

'they've taken him to Saint Mungo's Albus, he looks bad' she heard one of the portraits say.

Thank you,' said Dumbledore. He looked round at Professor McGonagall.

'Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children.'

'Of course . . .'

Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door. Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was looking terrified.

'What about Molly headmaster?' McGonagall asked, just as she was about to leave the office.

'I have no doubt that Molly is already aware'

She nodded and left without hesitation.

It was then that Ophelia realised that I wasn't her father in trouble, but her best friends. And as selfish as it sounded, a rush of relief washed over her as she knew her father was safe. But still, the worry didn't go away, as someone she cared about was still in danger.

As she looked back up, Dumbledore was busy rummaging through one of the many cupboards in his office, form which he pulled out an old kettle, that was blackened with age. He placed the kettle on his desk, pointed his wand at it and muttered 'Potus' and for a moment, the kettle trembled and was surrounded with a blue light. After a few moments, the kettle stopped, and lay still on the desk.

'Phineas' he called out to one of the many sleeping portraits on the wall.

The man in the painting awoke, he was dressed in emerald green robes and had a white, pointy beard. He seemed like a clever-looking man and Ophelia swore that she recognised the man, but she couldn't for the life of her think from where this man was familiar.

'I need you to visit your other portrait, said Dumbledore, 'I have another message'.

The man in the painting didn't look at all pleased with this information. He yawned and rolled his eyes, looking around the room as he did, his eyes stopping on Ophelia and Harry for a split second.

'He may have destroyed my painting by now' he said as he stood up, 'he's done that with most of the family.'

'Sirius knows not to destroy your painting' he said, and Ophelia instantly knew where she recognised him from, she spent her days in Grimmauld Place looking over the portraits from her family. ''You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children and Harry Potter along with his daughter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?'

'Yes, yes very well, he replied as he lazily slumped out of his chair, and walked out of his painting.

Harry and Ophelia turned to each other, both sharing a mutual feeling, despite the circumstances, they were both glad to be getting out of Hogwarts and going back to Sirius.

'I thought you hated me' the boy said.

'I could never hate you Harry, you're my best friend'

'Always?'

'Always'