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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

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1221 Chs

Actualities Ⅱ

A bit distracted after her conversation with Severus that had occurred during lunch, and with a dull ache on behind her left eye and temple, Rowan made her way up the stairs towards Professor Babbling's classroom on the third floor. Realizing the time, she hurried into the classroom to sit next to Andrew Abbott. This year her tendency to be the last to arrive had quickly become a terrible habit, not of her own choice. She always seemed to be helping a younger student, docking points, or assigning detentions, it was always something that made her be running behind.

With understanding clearly visible in the depths of his eyes, Andrew empathically asks, "Did you manage to complete the essay?"

"Barely," Rowan admitted for the first time. "Between everything else, several first years and younger years fell ill with the turn of the weather. I've had to drag a couple to the infirmary, who were too stubborn to go on their own. Luckily, the mentorship is going well otherwise, I'd have already thrown in the towel." That and Professor Mortimer was doing a good job as unofficial Assistant Head of House. The Slytherins had never been so orderly nor as cunning in an attempt to outwit the unofficial assistant of their head of house.

"Same," Andrew said with a tired grimace. "I've been feeling some very uncharitable Hufflepuff sentiments as of late, and if not for the mentors, I feel that I would have done something very unkind, and which I would not have regretted immediately afterward."

Rowan patted Andrew on the back. "Andrew, you're the best of us, and if you're close to snapping, just imagine the rest of us! Truthfully, I don't think we have much hope," she earnestly answered earning a faint smile from Andrew.

Removing her hand from Andrew's back, Rowan reaches back into her bag to pull out three black stones with crudely carved runes followed by three uncarved, smooth black stones. Rowan peeks over at Andrew's three smooth, white stones that appear to be neatly carved via his wand. He really did have a talent for Ancient Runes.

With a frown, Rowan turns back to her own. She had a long way to go but believe it or not this was her best runes at present. In the end, she couldn't use her wand to carve runes as they simply exploded or shattered. Her magic through powerful was too volatile to create such delicate works naturally. As she'd successfully discovered not too long ago, she was able to effectively carve magical runes with a silver knife. The natural earth element contained within the carved silver knife allowed her to channel the volatile energy contained within her body much like a lightning rod is used to harness volatile energy and provide a safe, effective conduct for the lightning to the ground.

However, the process of carving runes in stone with a silver knife was much harder than it initially. Rowan had to properly learn how to grip the handle of the blade. How much magical force to exert, and how to stabilize the flow of magic pouring out. She was improving slowly, but there was still plenty of room for growth. (That and she had to admit the fact that she had been able to successfully carve the needed runes to complete the ceremony with Damian Mulciber as a living sacrifice was nothing short of a miracle….)

The Head of Gryffindor, Professor Bathsheda Babbling swept into the classroom as usual. Her crooked dark hat is crooked and her slightly crooked button nose is normal. She is a tad pale, while her coffee-colored hair is neatly up, while her blue and brown eyes have only a few eyeshadows underneath them. With the new mentorship in place finally, even the Gryffindors were quelling down to a manageable extent. She'd even been able to sleep a full night's rest without waking up at an ungodly hour to haul adventurous Gryffindor's back to the Gryffindor tower.

Standing confidently at the front of the classroom, Professor Babbling says, "I hope that you have all finished all your essay on the property of runestones in correlation to the four seasons."

"Yes, Professor," the class chorused.

Turning to the board, Professor Babbling waves her wand as the chalk begins to scribble a long and complicated rune script. Finished, she turns back to face them and solemnly instructs, "The more complicated the rune script the harder it is to delicately carve and correctly complete. Please leave your already carved runestones at the edge of your desks for me to examine and critique. As for the rest of the class please concentrate on creating a connected rune script across the three stones to maintain the power of the longer rune script."

"Are there any further questions before we commence?" Professor Babbling asked.

With some trepidation, Rowan raises her hand as Professor Babbling gestures at her to ask her questions. "Professor, I was wondering if it might be possible to use a silver knife as the tool or means in which to carve runestones on the final exam. I have found that, unlike my wand, the silver knife is a much better conduct for my magic than my wand for carving runes."

A wave of whispers fills the classroom for a moment, before growing silent at a pointed stare from Professor Babbling. "It is certainly an acceptable alternative instrument to the usage of a wand on the final exam," Professor Babbling answered to the open astonishment of the students in the classroom. "In ancient times, many wizards and witches preferred to carve runes with knives or similar instruments. Nowadays, it is much more common to use a wand, but for some, it is preferable to use an alternative form, take for example for those that cannot channel sufficient energy or too much energy through their wands."

Professor Babbling paused and emphasized the following words, "Ten points to Slytherin! And I must say that I am surprised to learn that only Prefect Prince has come to this deduction, but any who are still having trouble carving runes, I would recommend reading a History of Rune Carving by Arild Hauges to study various other alternative instrumentation for rune carving beyond that of a wand."

The malicious voice of Hortense Sicca, (the betrothed of Gil Goyle, and mother of a certain Gregory Goyle). The gaunt fifth year girl's murky hair is plastered as always to her skull as she loftily says, "But Professor only those that are incapable of such a simple feat would use such LESSER & PRIMITIVE to complete the assigned task. I don't see why they should be praise for their failings."

Gertrude Fowl, a bloated faced girl with sausage sized curled hair snickers loudly in glee, (the betrothed of Vern Crabbe, and future mother of Crabbe). However, notably missing at their side is the figure of Quyen Crowley, who was sitting elsewhere. As of late Quyen Crowley had begun to sit separately from the two Slytherin girls and instead sat next to the Hufflepuff Female Prefect Olympia Branstone.

Ah, yes, I can feel the frustration. >:}

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