Out Of Time
Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room to find Ron and Hermione mid-conversation, clearly waiting for him to come back from his meeting with Dumbledore.
“How was it?” Hermione asked briskly as Harry approached at a run.
“What happened?” Ron added quickly, catching sight of Harry’s expression.
Wasting no time, Harry launched into a detailed account of everything that had occurred in Dumbledore’s office. He described Teddy’s peculiar clothing, repeated the conversation word-for-word until the moment he had been unceremoniously ejected, and shared his suspicions.
Ron and Hermione stared at him, dumbstruck.
“Are you sure it was safe to leave Dumbledore alone? What if he was a Death Eater in disguise?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Ron. As if Dumbledore needs Harry to protect him. Even if the bloke was a Death Eater, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Besides, there’s no way a Death Eater could just stroll into the Headmaster’s office like that—apart from Apparition,” Hermione added wisely. “And as I’ve told you a million times, you can’t Apparate inside Hogwarts!”
“Fine,” Ron muttered, looking annoyed. “I suppose you’ve already cracked the mystery, then.”
“Well, actually, I haven’t,” said Hermione. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” Harry replied. “Like I said, Dumbledore threw me out before he explained anything. But I do know one thing—his name’s Teddy.”
“Teddy…” Ron repeated, staring intently at the rug. “And he reckons he knows you? Personally, I mean?”
“What does he look like?” asked Hermione.
“Well… he looks…” Harry searched for the right word, “Nice.”
“Nice?” Ron scoffed. “What’s nice about him?”
“I don’t know. He just seemed like a decent bloke. Said he was an Auror, but I’m pretty sure he’s only a bit older than us. Told Dumbledore he’s twenty-one, but he looked about our age. Black hair, really thin, a little taller than you, Ron. And like I said—he was dressed a bit odd, in a grey cloak. Mostly, he just looked scared.”
“I can’t wait to see him!”
“Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen,” Ron said. “Dumbledore’s bound to stash him away somewhere if he really thinks he’s from the future—mad, that one.”
“Why would you say that?” Hermione asked.
“I’m with Ron on this one,” said Harry. “Dumbledore got rid of me before they even had a proper conversation. Doesn’t seem like he’s about to let me anywhere near him.”
The three of them continued speculating about Teddy’s identity, and as the evening wore on, their guesses became increasingly wild.
“It’s getting late,” Hermione said after about an hour. “I’m heading to bed—and I suggest you two do the same. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
Harry and Ron made their way up to the dormitory a few minutes later, but sleep didn’t come easily for Harry. His mind was too full of questions about the mysterious stranger who had interrupted their time.
The next morning, Harry and Ron made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. At the entrance stood Teddy, scanning the crowd as if looking for someone in particular.
Harry spotted him immediately and nudged Ron, pointing subtly.
“That’s him—the gate-crasher from yesterday.”
“Harry!” Teddy shouted, waving enthusiastically.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, sounding both excited and confused.
“Looking for you!” Teddy replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Hi, Ron.”
Hermione, already seated inside the hall, had caught sight of them and came rushing over.
“You know me?” Ron asked, his face flushing red.
“Of course.”
“Who are you?” Harry asked directly.
“Hi, Hermione,” said Teddy, ignoring the question as she arrived.
“I thought Dumbledore wouldn’t let you speak to us. Let alone wander into the middle of the Great Hall,” Harry said bluntly.
“Dumbledore reckons there’s no point in hiding me,” said Teddy simply.
“Who are you?” Harry asked again, more firmly.
Teddy looked at him with a kind of weary resignation. “Well, I’m Teddy. And as you’ve probably guessed, I’m not exactly from your time. Dumbledore’s forbidden me from revealing my identity—and I agree with him. Knowing who I am, or even discovering it by accident, could get me erased from existence. At best. At worst, it could mess with the timeline altogether.”
He scanned their faces as he spoke—just as he’d anticipated, they ranged from angry to stunned.
“Don’t even think about it,” Teddy said sharply, raising his wand without speaking. Harry was startled by how adept Teddy seemed with silent spells. Within seconds, a worn piece of parchment appeared in Teddy’s outstretched hand—and Harry recognised it immediately.
“That’s mine!” Harry exclaimed.
“Well—not exactly,” Teddy said, clearly amused.
“What d’you mean, not exactly?” Harry snapped.
“It belongs to Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,” Teddy replied with an irritating grin. “You, let’s say, were merely the legal custodian.”
“How did you know?”
“About the map, or that you were going to use it to try and find me?”
“Both.”
“Well, the map—I know because you told me about it. And I knew you were going to use it because—well, I know you. And won't have you putting my existence at risk,” he added, “mainly because, well, I'm rather fond of existing.”
He smiled, and it only made Harry more annoyed.
“Give it back,” Harry said as calmly as he could.
“I’ll give it back as soon as I leave Hogwarts—promise. Until then,” he said, giving the map a little wave, “it stays with me.”
Harry realised there was no point arguing, but he was already starting to take a disliking to Teddy. He didn’t seem quite as nice anymore.
“Teddy,” Hermione began, “Can’t you tell us who you really are?”
“I’m Teddy. That’s enough.”
“But still—?”
“I can’t,” he said, and this time he looked genuinely sorry.
“Can you at least tell us how you know us?”
“I can’t.”
“Brilliant,” Harry muttered. “Is there anything you can tell us?”
“Well, yes—there’s one thing,” Teddy said, as if dragging up an old memory. “Oh yeah—you grew up to be a lot less of a prat. I’m glad.”
Ron and Hermione burst into laughter, while Harry looked less than amused and reached for his wand.
“Oh, come on, Harry, you’re not actually going to hex me,” Teddy said cheerfully. “Right—well, I can tell you this: Dumbledore’s agreed to let me join the Order. Not, like, fight for it—he thinks I’d muck up the timeline if he lets me do anything too drastic—but he’s letting me in on your little secret group.”
“You mean Dumbledore actually trusts you?”
“Seems like it, yeah.”
“Why?” Ron asked.
“Don’t tell me—you can’t say,” Harry said with a mocking tone.
“Exactly!” Teddy replied, looking far too pleased with himself.
“In the future—or, I suppose, your past—were you part of the Order?” Hermione asked.
“The Order stopped existing in my time, so I wasn’t a member. But the people in it—including you lot—are very much connected to me.”
“And you’re sure—?”
“Yes, Hermione,” Teddy said firmly. “I’m absolutely sure.”
“You’re joking!” declared Fred.
“Oh no, most certainly not,” said Dumbledore.
“Regrettably, not in the slightest,” Teddy added gravely.
Everyone in the room looked far too stunned to reply. Dumbledore stood in the Burrow’s kitchen, now smiling, moustache twitching slightly as he glanced at Arthur and Molly – both of whom were sitting with their mouths agape – Fred and George looking unconvinced, Bill rocking on the back legs of his chair, and Tonks with a hard-to-read expression.
Teddy could feel – and hear – the pounding of his heart in his ears. He could not remember ever feeling quite so overwhelmed. He tried not to appear rude by staring at the people around him – especially one in particular. He hadn’t expected to see his mother so soon, and without any preparation.
Teddy had imagined scenarios like this in his head countless times – the moment he’d meet his mum. He’d always known what he wanted to say. He’d always imagined the warm hug he so desperately longed for. In those daydreams, he’d never felt anything less than whole, always surrounded by love. But if he were honest, he had always wanted something a little different. As a child, he’d often felt guilty for that, until Molly – the very same Molly who now sat in front of him, younger, more anxious, more unfamiliar – had explained to him that it was perfectly valid. That living in a complicated world and situation meant your emotions were complex, too – and it didn’t make you spoiled or selfish, just human.
“Hang on – you mean to say you just turned up here, from the future, by accident?” asked Bill.
“Yes,” Teddy answered, grinning with relief. It felt odd looking at Bill’s smooth, unscarred face – as if it had never truly had features. He realised he was staring and quickly looked away.
“Dumbledore, do you trust him?” asked Arthur.
“Entirely.”
“And what made you trust him?” George asked suspiciously.
“From the little the boy was permitted to tell me, I can say I trust him as I would trust any one of you.”
“Albus believes that any information I know could cause temporal damage or even prevent my own existence,” Teddy added, wrapping up the matter. “So I’m not allowed to tell you anything about myself or any of you in the future.”
Why isn’t she saying anything? Could she be suspicious? What if she doesn’t like me? That would be ridiculous, – everyone said she loved anyone and everyone, he thought.
“I hope you will all show the boy some understanding,” said Dumbledore. “He cannot reveal details about himself, but I do hope you’ll treat him as one of your own.”
Teddy lowered his gaze. The word treat stung. Treat him like one of their own?
“Is there anything you can tell us?” asked Tonks.
“Well, I’m twenty-one,” he said, and his heart skipped a beat as he turned to Dumbledore, looking for a sign of approval. “I went to Hogwarts – I was in Hufflepuff. I played Chaser on the house Quidditch team, so if anyone fancies a match…” He trailed off, fishing for more acceptable details. “In summer holidays I worked at your shop,” he added, glancing at George. “Actually, I’d be really happy to spend time there again, if you’d have me.”
So they are impossible to tell apart, he thought.
“You look very familiar,” Tonks said, narrowing her eyes.
“Well,” Teddy said, flushing, “maybe that’s because you’re from the future too.”
He felt a tight lump form in his throat as the tears threatened to rise. Why now, of all times, did he have to behave like a small child who just wanted his mum? That part, at least, he had never imagined in any of his daydreams.
“And what’s that?” Tonks pointed at a black shape peeking from beneath his shirt, just above his chest.
Teddy looked alarmed and quickly yanked his collar up to hide it. He prayed his voice wouldn’t betray him.
“It’s a tattoo. I’d rather not… show it,” he said shortly.
“Oooh, sounds intriguing!” Tonks giggled.
Bill eyed the exchange with suspicion, flicking his gaze between Tonks and Teddy with visible unease.
“Arthur, Molly, I wouldn’t ask this of you if I had any doubt,” said Dumbledore firmly.
“Of course,” Arthur said, as if that settled it.
“Teddy dear,” said Molly, rising to approach him. “You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
“If Dumbledore trusts you, so do we,” Arthur affirmed.
“I appreciate your understanding,” Dumbledore said, with a small bow of his head.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you,” said Teddy earnestly. “Albus wouldn’t have asked if I had any other option.”
“That’s quite all right,” said Molly, though Teddy wasn’t convinced she believed it herself.
“I promise, I’ll move on the moment I can sort something else out – I won’t be any trouble. I’m usually put up in Percy’s old room when I visit. If that’s all right with you,” he added awkwardly.
Arthur and Molly exchanged surprised glances.
“Teddy,” Arthur began gently, “might you at least tell us who you are? We’re happy to have you – truly – but it would help us not to feel quite so… on edge.”
“No,” Dumbledore interjected firmly – and with that, the discussion about the stranger’s identity, whom Arthur and Molly had just been obliged to take in, was closed.
“Teddy, y’know,” Tonks called brightly, as if trying to change the mood, “you and I are going to be great friends! I was in Hufflepuff too!”
Teddy flung himself into her arms and hugged her tightly. “I’m sure of it,” he said into her shoulder.
He didn’t care anymore about the tears spilling from his eyes, soaking into his mother’s jumper. He didn’t care if he looked strange or awkward. He didn’t care if, for the first time in his life, he felt out of place at the Burrow. He didn’t care if he was stuck in time forever, if no one trusted him, or if Dumbledore had more warnings to give.
Because right now, all that mattered was the warmth of the hug he’d imagined so many times – the hug from his mother.