The Information
The mumbling on many different voices grew clearer and louder as the black started to fade from your eyes to the room you were just standing in. The blurry faces spun slowly making you feel sick.
‘Y/n, are you alright?’ You could make out your mother’s voice. ‘Help get her up.’
John placed his arms under your armpits, which felt very uncomfortable, and Michael had his hand under your knees and thighs for extra support. They placed you on a stool next to the table where the men had been doing business before you bursted into the door to see if your mother was there.
‘Drink this.’ Tommy said, placing a crystal glass in front of you on the wooden table.
‘Tommy, she’s not of age yet.’ Polly glared at him, her finger gracing the glass to take it away but you pulled the glass closer to you.
‘It’s been five years, Mum. I grew up.’ You reminded her that you weren’t 17 anymore. ‘I’m 22.’
‘Right,’ she cleared her throat embarrassed by not knowing that her once little girl was now a full grown woman.
You took a swing of the amber liquor, hoping it would make you feel better quickly. The burning hot sensation went down your throat with ease. Glass still in your hand you turned it around with your hand like you were inspecting it.
‘I do have to say that firewhisky is far better.’
‘Firewhisky?’ Arthur looked confused, you didn’t blame him.
‘Wizard’s spin on it,’ your right hand found its way to your pocket. ‘Ah ha.’
You pulled out a small bottle of firewhisky you had brought with you. The coat had magical pockets so you could store pretty much anything inside and on a journey like this you couldn’t pass on the alcohol.
You threw the bottle towards Arthur who caught it just in time.
‘There ya go. Try it.’
Arthur’s eyes scanned the room, to see if any of the faces told him to not do it, but all of them seemed in favour of him trying the mysterious, yet similar dark yellow almost orange liquid. He unscrewed the bottle and a big gulp glided into his mouth before he swallowed it. Arthur kept silent, unsure what to think. All the others in the room were anticipating what he had to say.
‘This,’ Arthur took another look at the bottle, ‘is fucking good.’ He passed the bottle to his brothers who had the same reaction.
‘Wait,’ Arthur’s eyebrows were knitted together, stepping closer to you. You had no idea why. ‘Either this whisky has a fucking magical effect or your hair is starting to change.’
Your hand grabbed a strand of hair that was no longer short, but instead long, with the top half of your head black with white underneath—like your mother’s hair.
‘Magic, Arthur.’
‘Right…’
No one said anything. The men were done tasting the whiskey and placed the bottle onto the table. Polly’s warm, soft hand that comforted you every night before she left was sitting on top of yours. It was nice. You didn’t want to admit it to her just yet but you felt at ease with her by your side.
‘Oh shit, right,’ you slapped your forehead, ‘I forgot to mention something.’
Polly’s eyes followed your movements. The other’s had a speck of ‘what could possibly happen now’ in their eyes as you jumped up from your chair, looking to your right side.
‘I actually brought someone with me. A very good friend of mine said that one should never travel back in time without a companion. He’s been here the entire time but I haven’t given him the okay to make himself visible.’
Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael’s head inspected every inch of the room with their eyes. Polly on the other hand planted her face in her hands, sighing deeply, knowing exactly who it was.
‘Please don’t tell me you brought that house-elf…’
‘House-elf?’ Tommy repeated the words, his mind trying to wrap itself around the new information that was given.
‘Dobby, y-‘
‘Dobby?’ John snorted, facing away from your figure.
You glared at him before you continued.
‘Dobby, you can get rid of the invisibility charm.’
And right that second a Dobby appeared next to your frame, his large tennis-ball-like green eyes landed on Narcissa and his face lit up instantly.
‘Hello, Mistress Malfoy.’ His high pitched voice erupted in the room. ‘It’s so good to see you alive.’ He stood in front of her. Admiration in glossy eyes as he bobbed up and down in excitement.
The facial expressions on the men’s faces were priceless, staring at him with so many emotions written all over them. They all seemed to take a rather large step backwards, afraid that the creature might get too close. Dobby however started stepping towards them, wanting to introduce himself.
‘What the bloody hell is that?’ Michael yelped as Dobby approached him.
Dobby turned around and you were met with his eyes, now rather sad and embarrassed. You waved him towards you so that the others could catch a breath.
‘First you come here and tell us you’re a witch and that Polly is your mother from the future, okay,’ Tommy said, accepting the truth. ‘And now this rat is here?’
‘He’s not a rat you twat.’ You spat back at him. You understood that this must be a lot for everyone but to be disrespectful to someone that had no part in it? ‘He’s a house-elf, in fact he’s a free elf too.’
You were only met with judgy-confused eyes, their gazes flickering from the witch to the elf that freaked them out more than they would’ve guessed. Michael however met Dobby with an almost bored expression—uninterested eyes yet never leaving the silhouette of the small creature. Michael sat down opposite of you and Polly. The faint light of a matchstick he pulled out of the carton lighting up the front of his face, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he adjusts the cigarette.
‘Anyway,’ you pulled your gaze back to Thomas and Arthur that rested their backs against the rough stone wall, arms crossed. ‘I didn’t dedicate years of my life to explain the history of house-elves to a group of people that I’m not quite sure what to describe as.’ You spun your head back to your mother whose downturned eyes filled with pain met yours.
Her trembling hand ashing her cigarette over the ashtray. A unlikeable habit she must’ve picked up from this timeline.
‘How are ehm Lucius and Draco?’ Her tone of affection only occuring whilst she spoke Draco’s name. Her first born. Her golden child now broken and under the weather most days.
‘Draco’s doing how most sons would feel after their only loving parent left them with their abusive father to only start a new family, you know.’ Your lips tugged a smile. ‘He’s good.’
Despite your targeting words, she let out a breath of air, almost coming off as delighted that Draco was doing better than she had anticipated.
‘Mother,’ your hand found itself in your magical coat pockets, grasping the handle of a wand before pulling it out and gently setting it before her. ‘There’s something wrong and we need to find it before it kills us all.’
‘Us all?’ Thomas paced around the table before sitting down next to Michael whose eyes were almost narrowed in an apathetic look.
Polly’s frame was pulled upright, like someone had threaded a band through her like a marionette. She was focused. Focused on what you had to say. Her fingers no longer rubbing against each other in order to control her nervousness.
‘Shut up.’ You casted him a scornful look before continuing. ‘When I visited Bellatrix in Azkaban there’s something she said that stuck with me. Something that didn’t make sense at all. Something that doesn’t seem possible, yet I fear that she spoke the truth to me for once and I can’t shake the feeling that it’ll happen soon.’
‘The truth?’ Polly pulled her eyebrows together, nose scrunching with the sip of firewhisky she took in years burning down her throat, the warm heat bringing back memories that belonged to her old life. ‘She must’ve been under a spell.’ She let out a genuine, suppressed laugh. ‘What did she say?’
‘She said that if you mess with your current memory from one’s future self, it’ll also control the young self, meaning that if it is true, Tom Riddle will know what he’ll become and he’ll become more powerful.
‘Sorry?’
‘Aunt Bellatrix looked just as confused when she said it. I just repeated her words back to you. All you need to know is that Tom Riddle knows what he is, what he’ll become, and what he’s capable of. Tom Riddle is roaming the streets of England right now under our noses. He could be anyone if we’re expecting the worst, I mean for all we know he could be posing as Michael right now.’
All heads turned to Michael who was looking around the room as soon as you said those words. His eyes were big, so big the words ‘What is happening?’ were sparkling behind his light-coloured eyes. Despite his cousins displaying a worried expression, paired with stuttering or half a sentence, Michael was calm. Polly noticed too.
‘Michael, are you alright?’ Affection coated words that were once reserved for only you and your brother. It felt bitter hearing it being spoken to someone who grew up with her love, not being overshadowed by a faithful; ill-tempered man that swore to love and protect you.
Michael blinked a few times before readjusting himself on his chair, seconds later grabbing another cigarette from the package. ‘Yeah, fine. As well as someone who just had all that information dumped on one.’
‘I guess I’m sorry in a way,’ you sighed, relaxing your back into the chair. ‘I know this might seem like a lot to process but it is crucial that we…or at least my mum and I do something. You have no idea what it would mean to have Tom Riddle gain power and know of this. I feel like I’m turning into Hermione, Mother. I’m so…worried. This is unlike me, right? Right?’
She laid a hand on your knee that bounced up and down, sending vibrations through your entire body. ‘We’ll find a way.’
‘I bloody hope so because if things go wrong, my future gets erased and I personally like my old life. I’ll be going back after sometime. I know I’ve searched for you for years,’ you trailed on, Polly’s head leaning towards the right. ‘And I will try to convince you to come back but I cannot leave my old life back even if mistakes defined my life. I don’t belong here and neither do you. Don’t give me that look, Mother, you know it’s true,’
‘I think that’s enough information for today,’ Thomas chimed in, his tone making it clear that he was tired of what the conversation had evolved into. The weight of the information heavy. ‘Let’s just enjoy the day, you enjoy having your mother back and surprising you extended-past family-whatever this is and take a walk around Small Heath, I don’t know.’ Smoke escaping his lips, his stance worryingly calm. ‘I have a meeting with Mr. Kimber so I’ll be at the Garrison. Sort out your family problems and we’ll be back later. C’mon.’ He stared at Michael and Arthur before they joined him through the door.
Dobby had made himself comfortable on one of the chairs, eyeing up the blackbord. He was surprisingly quiet, almost making you forget he came with you.
‘Tom Riddle already knows by now. I know it. I can feel it.’
‘Let’s listen to Thomas.’ Her hand cupped yours, he thumb stroking over your cracked skin. ‘Let’s catch up, talk about our lives, maybe drink some tea and have some food. You look rather gaunt, you need a good meal in you.’ She stood up and walked through the green doors that had changed everything for you.
Dobby’s giggles filled your ears, the smell of some beefy filled your senses, the stew your mother had made for you only a week before the war happened.
You hoped—prayed that wherever Tom Riddle was right now that he was unaware, that the time travel effects had not yet set in, but part of you already felt like it was too late.