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and you once said I wish you dead you sinner
nightshade hogwarts time travel collision
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Monday, September 1st, 1975.

There's a thunderstorm in the Great Hall sky today.

It's unseasonably sunny outside.

 

McGonagall has to elbow Dumbledore three times, increasingly sharply, before he stands up to give his usual pre-feast welcome speech. He says several words that may or may not be English and sits back down, still staring at the ceiling.

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Okay, so the good news is it worked.

The bad news is what the fuck is wrong with the ceiling.

(She does not say this out loud because she is not stupid.)

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"What the fuck is wrong with the ceiling?"

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A nearby sixth-year says, somewhat smugly, "if you were taking NEWT Herbology you'd know that if it's not regularly resurfaced -"

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"Yes, yes, it throws tantrums, I know. It's every decade and they did it last year, Runcorn, you were there."

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No they didn't.

...

...

Fuck.

...

...

Peggy leeeeaaaans into Runcorn's personal space. "Ooh, can you tell me about it? I missed it, you know, Quidditch practice."

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Quidditch practice.

... he'd skipped Defense class for it. A class that she was in.

He's known Margaret "Peggy" Carter Jr. for five years and her unsettlingly identical mother for forty and neither of them is, generally, given to obviously detectable lies.

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Cool, cool, Gadlen definitely knows something's up. This is fine and not at all a giant problem.

(Runcorn has not detected that anything is up and is cheerfully telling her about how very important and critical he was to the ceiling resurfacing project last year.)

She needs to talk to Lupin, and fast.

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(and over at the Gryffindor table...)

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It's hugging time? Why is it hugging time?

"I love you too Sirius but what about Dumbledore saying gibberish specifically -"

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Do not cry do not cry do not cry do not -

Wait.

Why is Sirius having a meltdown.

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"Nothing. Nothing. Everything's fine," says Sirius, wrapped around James like a very distressed octopus.

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"......... huh," says Lily Evans.

She contemplates the tableau of her classmates.

Then she digs through her pockets and hands Remus five Galleons.

Then she leans around Sirius, patting him fondly on the temple in passing, and kisses James.

 

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"Eh????"

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???? !!!! ?????

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"Thought you ought to know."

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"Not to, uh, interrupt - "

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"I think you know why, Remus," chirps Lily, and then she gets up from the table and walks away.

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Does Sirius have to let go now. He doesn't really want to.

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James is not actually going to take actions that require Sirius to unhug, he's going to sit here with his brain full of exclamation points for a bit. 

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yaaaaay :( :( :( :(

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What in all fuck is going on over there.

Peggy does not try to communicate with Remus with her eyebrows. They are not good enough friends and it would not work. She just shoots him a deeply baffled frown and goes back to trying to quietly listen for butterfly effects in Runcorn's ramble before she says something else stupid in front of Rob bloody Gadlen.

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Why is Carter making that face at Lupin.

Why is Carter making that face at him.

This would be so, so much less worrying if the stupid country wasn't at stupid war again. He doesn't usually miss this badly at his timing but that's what he gets, isn't it, for making idiot choices in 1960.

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Ah, fuck, when you do that there's just two of us in here because that's where the multiverse link is anchored. Okay, he probably should have predicted this. Sorry Morpheus, you live here now. 

I don't want to. Put me down.

Can't. Need you to tell me how to do my job. Hopefully you can sleep most of the time I'm doing it. Before that though do you wanna talk to our-- 

He is not ours he is mine.

Well you know arguably he's Death's really--

D̵̠͚̟͕͖̄̾́O̶͚̟̽͌N̴̨̲̯͊̋̎̓́'̵̮̠͕̔T̴͕͓̙̎̀͛͠ ̸̱̦̝̭͒T̷̖͙̑Ȩ̵̛̳̂͛Ṣ̵͍͉́͜ͅT̴̫̋͂ ̵̧̺̘͇͆̓͋M̶̮̟̥̜̃̀͌Ȩ̵̟̰̟̪͆̿̔,̸̡̉́̂̒͠ ̶̮͑̾̚͜͝

 ̸̡̥̠̖͌Ḯ̴̮̓͠ ̵̤̫̦̱͐̆͌͆͂C̴̨͙͇̙̽̎́̚A̶̳͇͑̐N̶̹̋ ̵̨̨̧̮͊K̵̯͇̍͜I̷̤͈̿̈́͑L̶̨̳͒̾̃́̂L̵̼̩̀ ̶͙̩̙̤̊́͒͛̆ͅȲ̴̠̆́͒O̷͓͘U̸̞̼̳̮͚̔̂̏͊

Okay, okay, jeez, calm down. You don't really want to kill me, do you, come on. 

... no. 

Great! Let's talk to Hob, then, maybe he'll know why the ceiling is doing that. Promise I won't touch him until we figure out how to manifest two bodies or something. 

h̶̫̞̺̗͙͂̀̃͐̽͑͘͝r̶̹͛̇ŗ̶̢̜̬̘͓͗̉̽͋͜r̵̛̲͓͙̬̤̥̲͊̍̑̿͋͒̊ǵ̸̼̲͒̀͊̀̓͋͂h̴̡̺̐͂́̍͝r̶͚̺̐̈́͒́̍͂͂̊g̵m̸m̸r̶p̸h̴f̸. all right. this is a very stupid plan, you know. 

Mama always said it ain't stupid if it works! :) 

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ow ow ow ow ow ow headache from eldritch hell ow ow ow ow ow

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Oh no, friend :( 

Shoulder...pats? 

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ow ow ow 

"don't do that please."

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Oh dear. No shoulder pats then. 

"You need to go to the nurse?" 

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"no. I'm just going to stay here for a bit thanks."

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It is time to go to class! 

Should he be incredibly worried about what Voldemione is about to be up to and why Lily and Remus seem to also be up to more things than you'd expect at this juncture? Almost certainly! Is he going to do that when he could be hugging James instead? Nope!!! He will continue to cling while they walk. Maybe Lily will solve this problem for him. It is so good to live in a world again where that is a thing that can happen. 

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Who, her? Solving problems she's definitely never heard about happening? 

Couldn't possibly.

(She's headed out the front door.) 

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"Psst," says a Hufflepuff that Robert Gadlen has never spoken to in his life, elbowing him. He's walked up behind him without making a sound. "Skip first period with me, I gotta tell you something." 

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"Gah where the fuck did you just--" 

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(recognize me, look at me, I'm here, I am something else that is not my function when you see me, look, look--) 

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"---yep. Yeah. Absolutely, lead the way." 

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..........?????????????? 

"Did Hall dye his hair blonder over the summer?" she says, to the table at large, because she's not even sure where to start on anything else in that bewildering occurrence. 

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"Evidently," drawls Snape, from the other side of Runcorn. 

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The Deputy Headmistress looms. "If you are late for my class because you were gossiping about your classmates I will have no sympathy for you." 

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"For your-?" 

Peggy stares at the schedule sitting next to her plate. 

Why on Earth do they have NEWT theoretical astronomy at nine AM. No wonder Shafiq is out for blood.

"-yes ma'am we are going there right now." 

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He's not going there right now. He will care about that later. He is following briskly in the wake of an exceptionally white-blond boy he's only ever vaguely detected as Edgar Bones' boringly inoffensive roommate. (As opposed to Brutus Scrimgeour, who is an asshole, and Sasha Kovachev, who seems probably fine but whom he nevertheless avoids like the plague for crimes of having an uncomfortably high Sense Motive score.) 

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"So first of all I have not secretly been - him - for my whole life or anything," says Daniel as soon as they're out of earshot of anyone else, on their way to the Room of Requirement. "This happened like five minutes ago. There was some, uh, stuff. I am a whole entire different person - my name is Daniel, by the way, I'm not sure we've actually met - but we, uh, currently live in the same body, sorry about that, there was. Additional stuff mostly unrelated to the current stuff." 

He touches the wall where Morpheus is confidently expecting a door to be, and squints at it. 

"Uh--" 

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greetings, earth-soul, eldest dreamer, he says. many of your children are up to something today, I see. no, no, worry not, I shan't disturb them. may I have [̷s̶a̸f̷e̴t̷y̷-̴h̵e̶a̴r̷t̷h̸f̵i̴r̸e̷-̴q̵u̷i̴e̴t̵-̷m̴e̷e̷t̷i̵n̵g̶p̷l̷a̵c̷e̶]̷, please. 

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It is really something, how nothing about the person in front of him actually changes shape - he remains a perfectly unfamiliar teenage boy with white hair - and yet there he is, for a moment, his oldest friend, communing with the castle like that's a normal thing to do. The surface of him where he contacts the air is marble-smooth and impossible, like an artwork instead of a person, overlapping the same human atoms like a psychic mirage. 

Ah, fuck, listen to him thinking poetics, he's gone and got all maudlin about his bloody Stranger since they had that fight. It's not even been that long. He's gonna need to get a handle on that right quick. 

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oh, hello, your majesty. sure, here you go. <3 

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Now the wall is a door, and behind it a quiet, windowless room, thickly carpeted with layers of woven rugs, lit with a warmly burning fireplace and a pair of enormous armchairs. 

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Thank you, says one of them, or maybe both of them. Hard to say. 

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Daniel sits very carefully in the chair that is much too big for him, curling his ankles underneath himself and folding his hands in his lap. "So I can't really go away while you talk to him but I didn't think it'd be fair to make you wait any more while I try to figure out how to put us in separate bodies again?" he says apologetically. "Anyway the [̸̧͋̔T̶̻͉̀L̶͇͂D̸̥̃̀R̶̟͛;̸̛͔é̶̟l̶̨͙̀e̸̼̗͒̒v̶̡͊a̶͂ͅͅt̶̤̲̃͋õ̷̧̦ř̷̝͈ ̴͕̎p̸̒ͅì̸̡̟̇t̸͙͑c̴̱͙̍ḫ̶̛̾;̷̝̿́d̷̰̱̃ê̸̤̯b̴͖̎r̸͖̉ḯ̵̡͆e̷̥̭͂f̵̯͔̈̂]̵͔̇́ ugh no there is a normal English word for that, the summary - the summary is the war's so bad that there's a strong [̴̱̤̽ā̷̙t̷̻̀t̵̢͓̅̈r̸͍͆̐a̴̹̯͝c̵̮̼͊t̷̹͓̓͝ö̵̳̩́͝r̴̘̻̾̕-̵͖̂̚ͅm̶͇̓ę̶̾͜t̸̜̄ͅa̶̧̱̍̕g̵̡̯̊́r̷̺̈a̵͖̾̂v̷̟̲̅̐i̴̮̎͆ͅt̷͕̲̀̆y̴̪̽̂-̴̨̓r̶̫̜͂̕ė̶̇ͅc̸̦͐ū̸̘̣̏r̸̨̛͍r̶̫̬͂e̸̥͆n̶̡͘ć̵̤̔e̸̯̓̈]̸̡̯̒͘ hhhhhhhhhrgh there's a thing that keeps happening, in multiple universes, in the next ten to twenty years, where people do, uh, um -" 

time shenanigans. is I believe the traditional phrase. 

" - time shenanigans, sure - and a bunch of 'em all landed right here all at once and that is why so many Things are Happening." 

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"It's all right if you want to use the eldritch words," says Hob, very gently, because it's dawning on him that what he's talking to right now is clearly not just shaped like a teenager but is in fact an actual young child, of whatever his Stranger's species is. A little baby faerie, doing its best having been handed whatever went horribly wrong here. "I can mostly understand them." 

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"Thank you, but I don't like them. My  ̶̨̨̪͎̾̂́[̷̡̱̻̠͂̃̃f̴̛̣̙̎u̵̖̻͚̅͂n̸͇̭̩̕͜͜͠c̴͔̋̒́t̵̘͑î̸̛̭̤̼̅o̷͙̟͐̀͑͝ń̸̨̳̫̚͜-̸̞̤͔̆̿d̷̨̖͉̲̈u̵̲̩̞̙̿̇̋͑̈ţ̸̲̝̈́̇̓̅y̷̝̩̘̗̯̎͗̊̉-̸̬̩͂̈ę̵̲̯̟̽̃͌̒̀ͅx̵͕̩̅̈́́i̶̡̜̦̼̲͋̄͝s̸̪̫̓t̸̰͕͋̓͗͜ẹ̵̛̺̑n̷͖̥̈́c̴̖͔͈͇̒̂ê̵̹͓̓]̴͕̗̊̂͜͜ ̵̛̩̀̌̒̐ -- no -- the, the point of me, is to be more human than he was. ...Is." 

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"Noble thing to want to be, I suppose, human. We're a fun lot." He's carefully arranged himself in his chair with artful casualness, just this side of good posture but not quite slouching, and is trying not to think too hard about why this feels like a high stakes test. "You're doing an impressive job so far, I think. I can sort of tell when I look at you out of the corner of my eye but you'd pass in a crowded street." 

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He is getting a good grade in being an eldritch horror from beyond the stars, which is a normal thing to want. 

 

"I hope so. Okay let me just sort of..." 

He shuts his eyes, and attempts to metaphorically sit down and hand over the nervous system. (Here is this bone and that one, and this muscle, and that thing over there, and this bone, and oh god why does the human body have so many steps, who designed this bullshit.) 

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This time his hair actually turns black, and his eyes turn blue, and he opens his mouth - 

winces, realigns his jawbone with an uncomfortable crunching sound - 

- and says, "I owe you several apologies, I think." 


 

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Meanwhile:

Basically everyone in the year who's not scheduled to be in Astronomy right now (Carter, Gadlen, the Vector twins) and doesn't have a free study period instead (Bones, Snape, Wilkes, a few others) is supposed to be in Charms. They're usually not scheduled on top of each other, but this year there's no overlap and the next best physically possible overall schedule was in all other respects worse. 

A weird number of them aren't, though: Evans, who definitely signed up for Charms and is nowhere to be found; Kovachev, who is apparently having some kind of medical problem; and Hall, who apparently was last seen making unhinged Slytherin-related choices for no discernable reason. The second two things might be related, since they're roommates, but it's sort of hard to see how.

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"Good morning, good morning! This is NEWT Charms and I am so delighted to welcome all of y--" 

Flitwick stops. He leans forward from his perch on his desk, squinting. He consults his classlist. He puts on his spectacles, just to be quite sure. 

"--some... of you?" he corrects, worriedly. 

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"Uh, Sasha's in bed with a migraine but he's not like dead or anything," volunteers the remaining Hufflepuff in the room, Dáithí Moran. "Daniel's probably on a friendship quest?" 

This is a common Hufflepuff phrase meaning actively engaged in trying to rescue someone from evil by the power of friendship, a thing they do all the time. 

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"Lily is um. On a non friendship quest. I think." 

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Did he miss her explaining this while his brain was full of exclamation points? Heck. Immediately failing at being the best boyfriend ever. Gotta work on that.