Chapter 49:

Consciousness returned to Harry in two stages; the first stage of groggily blinking open his eyes, and the second stage of almost falling out of bed in his haste to get on his feet. "Mr Potter!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, rushing to his bedside as he struggled to stand. "Kindly desist, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"Sirius!" Harry cried out. The nurse's eyes went soft. "No need to worry, my dear. Black is locked away upstairs, the dementors will be with him any minute. He can't hurt you now."

"What!" Her words had the opposite affect she intended as Harry tried to sit up once more. "No, they can't, he's innocent!" Surely Snape had explained?

He reached for his glasses, looking around the hospital wing as everything came into focus. Ron was passed out in the bed opposite, his bandaged knee propped up on a pillow. Hermione occupied the bed beside his, awake and looking just as horrified, her arm in a splint. And several beds down lay Professor Snape, still completely unconscious. Shit! He was their one hope of getting the headmaster Minister to see reason!

and

the

Harry's shout must have been heard from the corridor, as the next minute, Minister Fudge himself was on the ward, accompanied by Professor Dumbledore.

"Minister, you've got the wrong man, Black's innocent!" he insisted, and Fudge's eyebrows rose in alarm.

"I say, dear boy; he must have hit you with quite the Confundus charm!"

"Harry's right!" Hermione agreed, jumping out of bed herself. "Wake up Professor Snape, he'll tell you!" "Children, please, calm yourselves!" Madam Pomfrey cut in. "You've had quite the ordeal, it's natural to be confused. Just lie down, and—"

"Professor Snape can confirm it," Harry echoed Hermione. "Just wake him up."

"Professor Snape has a very severe concussion; to wake him from that prematurely could cause serious brain injury," Pomfrey scolded. It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to tell her to just do it anyway, but he resisted. Brain damaged Snape wouldn't help anything.

"Black must have filled their heads with his ridiculous tale," Fudge said with a shake of his head. "Something about a rat, and Peter Pettigrew." "It's the truth! Pettigrew's an animagus, he was Ron's rat, it was his fault my parents died!" Harry argued.

"Minister, if I might have a word with my students. Alone, if you don't mind, Poppy?" Dumbledore requested. Neither the Minister nor Pomfrey looked impressed at being thrown out of the ward, but they did as the headmaster bid, Fudge declaring he was going to go wait for the dementors.

As soon as they were gone, Harry and Hermione about tripped over themselves trying to tell the whole story all at once.

"It is your turn to listen," Dumbledore spoke over them, raising a hand. "There's no time to interrupt. There is not a shred of proof that Sirius Black is an innocent man, as you say he is. The only two adults involved are currently unavailable, and by the time they can tell their story it will be too late. Cornelius will not wait around on the word of two thirteen year-olds. It's too late, do you hear me?"

Harry glared at the old man— how could he just let Sirius die? Was he that desperate to keep control of Harry?

"But you believe us?" Hermione pressed.

"What I believe is neither here nor there," Dumbledore told her. "I was not present, therefore I have no power. I cannot overrule the Minister for Magic." It took all of Harry's effort to hold back a derisive snort; as if Dumbledore didn't overrule the Minister all the time. "What we need is more time." He placed a strange emphasis on the words, and Hermione gasped. "Now listen closely. Sirius Black is being held in Professor Flitwick's office. Seventh floor, thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you should be able to save two innocent lives tonight."

Harry had officially lost the plot of the conversation, but Hermione was nodding as if the headmaster made total sense. "I am going to lock you in," Dumbledore announced, straightening up. It is—" he checked his watch "— five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry mumbled, utterly perplexed as the door closed. "What the… Hermione, what was he talking about?" She seemed to know exactly what Dumbledore was getting at.

"Harry, come here," Hermione urged, reaching into her robes and pulling out some sort of pendant on a very long, fine gold chain. Harry crossed the gap between their beds. The pendant was a tiny, sparkling hourglass. "Closer." Hermione threw the chain around his neck, too, her movements a little awkward thanks to her tightly-splinted wrist.

"What is that, Hermione?" Harry asked with trepidation. The bushy-haired girl smiled breathlessly. "Just trust me. Ready?"

Harry nodded. Hermione turned the hourglass over three times, and suddenly the ward around them dissolved. The world was nothing but a blur of colour and shapes around him, his blood rushing in his ears — and then it stopped, and he was on solid ground again. In the middle of the deserted Entrance Hall… in daylight?

Before he could speak, Hermione had him by the arm and was dragging him into a nearby broom cupboard. She removed the chain from his neck, stuffing the hourglass back in her robes. "What the hell just happened?" Harry asked in a furious whisper. Hermione's explanation of the Time-Turner left him gobsmacked. "They trusted a fourteen year-old. With a time machine?? No offence," he added, realising how that sounded. Hermione snorted.

"It is a bit ridiculous, isn't it? All so I could take some extra classes. But Professor Dumbledore insisted I shouldn't have to 'curb my thirst for knowledge'," she quoted. Harry's brow furrowed. What was Dumbledore planning? For that matter, why was he letting them save Sirius?

Unless he needed Harry's godfather for part of his grand plan? On the run, unable to spend much real time with Harry, but always just out of reach as a taunt of what might've been. Harry's stomach churned uncomfortably. He had the awful feeling they were playing right into Dumbledore's hand, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not if he wanted to save Sirius.

"So what's the plan?" he asked. "You said we're just outside, walking down to Hagrid's. How do we save Sirius? Go into the woods and look for him?"

"No, we can't disrupt the original flow of time. If we warn Sirius now, tonight will never happen," Hermione whispered.

"So… if we save him, it has to happen after he's already captured?" Harry thought carefully about Dumbledore's words, his specific instructions about Flitwick's office window. Two innocent lives. "Buckbeak."

"What?" Hermione was puzzled.

"Buckbeak. The other innocent life we save. We go and grab Buckbeak, wait until Sirius gets captured, then fly up to the window and go get him. He can escape on Buckbeak— they'll both be free."

"Harry, Buckbeak was killed," Hermione pointed out cautiously. Harry gave her a shrewd look.

"Was he?" he returned. "We heard the axe swing, we didn't see it. There's a chance." It was a small chance, but it was all they had left.

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