A/N: Okay, this is a heads up. This chapter contains Ouchies and Owies, but you probably figured that out without me warning you. After all, James is jumping down to a werewolf.

Idiot.

~*An Accident in Time*~

Written by: Cisselah

Life doesn't imitate art, it imitates bad television.

A Woody Allen Quote

Part XXV - the Idiot that Jumped.

Not long until midnight ~ 31th July 1980 ~ Cradwell woods

Because James' life was shit and God hated him, James fell and hit the werewolf in the face feet-first. Because he had thrown away his shoes, it hurt. Because the werewolf in question was a generous amount of feet up in the air at the moment, he continued to fall.

What happened afterwards can be divided into two categories; good news and bad news.

Good news: James landed softly and didn't die (although he was pretty sure he was going to need a soft bed at St. Mungos after this was done).

Bad news: the werewolf was not happy that a silly human had landed on its back.

Conclusion: the didn't-die bit was about to be rectified soon.

The werewolf growled and snapped its teeth, twisting around to glare at James with too whiskey-amber-golden-I'm-about-to-eat-you eyes. From somewhere above their head, Selina screamed curses and creative names ("You fucking melon-head son of a diseased ape!"). Also from somewhere above their heads, Lily Evans-Potter screamed like she was about to die or kill someone, or possibly both.

Correction: very soon. Very, very soon.

It was, James would later conclude, the rain that saved his life. Had it not been pissing down from the heavens and into its eyes, the werewolf wouldn't have been blinded by the rain and missed his throat by a dead man's hair. The blood reeking breath of the creature beat against James' face and dazedly he thought that after this night was over he was definitely getting Remus some mouthwash.

He also noted that there seemed to be some blood and flesh and pieces of his recently deceased shoes stuck between the creature's teeth, which had to be a bitch to pick out in the morning.

Perhaps some dental floss would also be appreciated?

The werewolf pulled back, its eyes scrunched up and glaring, slightly twitching in confusion about why its prey wasn't a dead sack of twitching meat yet.

James, who was neither that dumb or that suicidal, took the opportunity to scramble away from biting-range. In his shoes, many would have tried running away, getting as far away from the homicidal killing-machine as they could, but James had somehow kept his wits with him and instead aimed to climb on top of the homicidal killing-machine's back, were the blindspot of the claws and teeth was most likely located.

After all, you can't outrun a werewolf, you'd do better off climbing up a tree. Or, you know, a werewolf.

It wasn't the hardest or most insane thing he'd done (that prize was taken by that half-gargoyle girl from Paris) but it was close. His feet, which he suspected were either broken, sprained or just plainly fucked-up, slipped and slid down the wet fur of the werewolf, unable to find some leverage to push up with. His hands, which were in similar condition but numb with the shock (the best painkiller in existence), had similar problems.

The werewolf, who decidedly did not appreciate being used as a ladder, immediately started to struggle, which made things ten times harder than it already was. Claws, legs, teeth and furry pieces of limbs flew in every direction, knocking James around and away and towards in such chaos that he was half sure he was dead already.

By some miracle of Christ (or God or Merlin or the Devil, James wasn't that picky) every limb and claw and bite seemed to either miss him completely or just brush the edge of his frame and James reached his destination without any significant injuries (which was probably thanks to the Auror's robes, which were charmed to withstand bombardas and flying teacups and therefore seemed to be able to deflect most of the hundred-something pound force of a werewolf in action) although his spine was twitching and moaning and probably broken in six different places.

Then, because it was all he could do and he was still a (possibly concussed) idiot, James wrapped his arms around the werewolves neck and held on.

The werewolf jumped up like it had been shocked with a cattle prod. It snarled and twisted and shrieked as it lashed out in every direction and James suddenly realized why no one had ever shocked a werewolf with a cattle prod before.

It was an insanely idiotic thing to do.

With a teenage wizard wrapped around it's throat, the werewolf bucked, the werewolf protested, the werewolf tried to throw the irritating puny teenage wizard off. When that didn't work, the werewolf tried to burrow through it's own chest and reach him through a gaping hole in it's back, howling and roaring like a crazed animal while it scratched away.

James, who afterwards couldn't exactly remembered what he had been screaming but suspected it was something like: fuuuuuuuuuck, held on and hysterically thought about the crazy Texan cowboys that climbed on top of bulls and tried to hold on for as long as they could just for shits and giggles or glory or whatever godforsaken reason that made a fully grown man climb on top of a raging cow with horns and try to stay there for as long as possible.

I have to be the first one to ever try this shit with a werewolf, he thought, a little proud and a little disturbed. I can see why.

Then, as the werewolf did a particularly acrobatic twirl, he thought: This has got to be a record.

A cry rattled the treetops, so horrifyingly charring in its quality that James almost let go of the werewolf and slammed his arms around his ears. It seemed to last forever, the pitch of it cutting into his head like a glass-knife, making everything go sharp and colorfully and holy shit James hoped whoever that was wasn't dying.

Finally (Thank Merlin or God or... anyone...) the scream died down and another voice spoke up, a little wobbly and battered but steadier than what could be expected during these circumstances.

"Okay," Selina said. "I think you're fully dilated now. Please, be fully dilated. I mean, I knew this shit was bad but I didn't know... Oh shit. What? No, I didn't say anything! Lily, calm down! Lily, everything is fine, everything is dandy. Look, I'm holding my thumbs up. Just... lie back and think of England... or Scotland... or James? Yes, think of James. Lovely, handsome, pretty Ja-"

"I'm going to kill that silver-tongued bastard!" Lily hollered viciously. "This is his fault! This is all his fault!"

"That's the spirit!" Selina said, sounding considerably more cheerful now that they were planning imminent murder instead of discussing childbirth. "I'll give you a hand after we're done with this. Speaking of this, do you want to try pushing that melon out of your-... I mean, do you want to try to push now? I think you should try to push now."

Another bone-splintering scream cut through the night.

Without warning, the world seemed to shift and a dizziness hit James, a sort of buzzing white noise that filled his head with nothingness and painted white in front of his eyes. It lasted only for a moment, a brief split second were all his limbs went slack and autopilot disconnected, but it only took one moment for it to be over.

The werewolf howled triumph and bucked and suddenly James was flying, flying like it was a Quidditch game and he was after the snitch and oh-my-god-tree!

He had just enough time to bring his arms up before he hit it. The impact cracked something (which was either his arms or the tree, not that any of the observing deities seemed to care, thank you very much!) and sent another shock of seems-like-lightning-or-might-be-pain-but-it-hurt-to-much-to-think-about-it up his arms and spine and then down his ribs and inside and outside and up and down and fuck, that hurt.

James, who somehow also managed to hit his nose (he suspected it was broken and looking very unattractive by now) and toes (which was probably also broken, not that he could feel it), landed in a tangled heap that would have been a yoga instructors wet dream. Like most things that James had done this day, it hurt.

A split second was dedicated to figuring out the fairly complex issue of how he had landed in such a way that he was still facing the werewolf. After 1.23 seconds of pondering on this issue, he decided he really didn't want to know and then tried really hard not to think about it any further. Instead, his mind refocused on another issue, a more pressing one, that was quickly becoming a shrieking-red alert blaring in his mind.

He couldn't breathe.

There was a heavy pressure on his chest, as if someone was pulling his ribcage back towards his spine like a slingshot, and the world swam before his view, dissolving and resolving and whitening and reddening and doing all sorts off things that it really shouldn't do. Then, suddenly, it snapped back into place like an out of sync TV that had just gotten a kick in the right spot.

The now roaring werewolf twirled around and caught his eye. It's yellow eyes were bubbling with bloodthirsty joy and killer instinct. It snarled, just for effect, then gathered itself and tensed and leaped and ...

Oh, fuck my life, James thought and the werewolf landed in his lap.

Then breathing was the least of his problems as the rabid killing machine started tearing and ripping and biting and striking and everything hurt and oh, is that my spleen? and the world was made of teeth and fur and claws and yep, that is my spleen and flesh tore in every direction and Merlin, would it just end already?

It turned out that death by werewolf wasn't the gentlest of ways to go.

Go figure, James thought and died.

Time wobbled, shrieked and then re-winded itself. The world shimmered and James had the unpleasant feeling of doing it all over again in reverse. Flesh piecing itself together, pain unwinding, blood slurping back into veins. Claws sewing his body together, teeth kissing his skin. There was a roaring in his head and a dizziness-buzz-white noise in his ears and suddenly he was back on the back of the werewolf and what the hell? Oh crap-Shit-Tree!

Somehow, hitting the tree a second time hurt even more. If James had still had any air in his lungs, he would have screamed. Instead, all he could do was wheeze and try not to choke on the mouthful of bile that was working its way up his throat.

Straining for a breath, just one, he stared up at a familiar sight and wondered how the hell this became his life as he once again had the front row seat to what had to be the worst horror movie of all time, staring James Potter exclusively.

The now roaring werewolf twirled around and caught his eye. It's yellow eyes were bubbling with bloodthirsty joy and killer instinct.

Not again, James thought a little hysterically as his jaws flapped uselessly.

It snarled, just for effect, then gathered itself and tensed and leaped and...

... then the unicorn came running around of the shrubbery and nailed its ass mid-jump.

In a show that would probably have been very impressive if James hadn't been busy trying to remember how to breathe, the deranged-looking unicorn tackled the full-raging werewolf to the floor, stomped on it's slashing claws and let out a vicious neigh that sounded like gotcha motherfucker!

He wasn't sure what was most unlikely in this scenario - the part were it was it had a ( a very expensive, very high quality) dragon-hide boot dangling from its horn, the part were the unicorn did a pretty good rugby tackle or the part were it had Scorpius Sodding Malfoy screaming murder from its back - but he was sure all parts were equally ridiculous anyway.

Seemingly unhappy with being interrupted mid-dinner, the werewolf howled and charged Malfoy and his unicorn. The unicorn, looking at least twice as deranged and bloodthirsty as the werewolf, snorted evilly and sidestepped.

Then it hit the werewolf in the head with a hoof, sending it crashing down on the forest floor.

Malfoy cackled evilly and let out a war cry that sounded like: "Eat dirt, puppy love! Bow before the mighty Joe!"

Whatever.

James was busy breathing like a really old person. It was (unsurprisingly) painful to refill his battered lungs with midnight air.

From somewhere above their heads, Selina said cheerfully; "Okay, Lily, everything is going to be fine. Just lay back and think of breaking your husband's hands so he'll never touch you ever again. There you go. Told you it'd work." Then, more loudly: "You go at him, Joe! Beat his skinny werewolf ass to the ground!"

James tried to look up to see who it was but couldn't move his head. He gave up and returned to watching Joe the Unicorn vs Remus the Werewolf. Joe the Unicorn was in the middle of stomping viciously on the poor werewolf, who was curled up in some twisted sort of fetal position and whining with its clawed paws wrapped around its head. Malfoy looked like he was enjoying himself tremendously, laughing and cheering his unicorn on. For some reason he was wearing Death Eater robes and had a Death Eater mask pushed up on his forehead.

Go figures, James thought and counted dark spots.

The cry of a newborn baby echoed through the clearing and James had just enough time to think oh look, dad's taking his first breath, that's nice before time went wonky again, twisting and turning and reverting in a nauseating lurk that tugged on James' guts and before he knew it he was flying, soaring and oh bugger, I know how this story ends.

Hitting the tree for the third time didn't hurt any less than the first two times.

The now roaring werewolf twirled around and caught his eye. It snarled, just for effect, then gathered itself and tensed and leaped and...

Ouch.

"Potter," Malfoy said afterwards and raised a familiar wand. "Your insides resemble liquid pudding. Lie still so I don't accidentally turn you inside out."

And that, James thought with no small amount of irony, was the story of his life.

"Oh, go fuck yourself," James spat through a mouthful of blood and other stuff he didn't want to think about. He moved a little, just to be difficult, and felt the broken continents of bone shift under his skin.

He stopped moving and went back to work on dying.

It was surprisingly easy to do the second time.

Time wibbled, wobbled, strained and snapped and suddenly he was flying through the air and hello again, old friend, and this is going to hurt.

It did.

From his place on the ground, James could see Selina scream and jump down from the tree, landing wrong. Her face contorted in a grimace of pain, mouth opening to let out what he believed to be an impressive scream and then there was a ball of fur and claws obscuring the view. It took maybe five seconds for the werewolf to tear Selina Wood into pieces and James spent the entire time silently screaming as his heart tore with her.

When the werewolf finally turned to him, he was ready for it.

Time ripped and snapped and the tree hit him hard, harder than the other times. James landed in a familiar heap and leaned back against the tree, not even bothering with breathing even though his survival instincts demanded his attention, and prayed for this fucked up day to end.

Please, he thought as a sliver of cool air rushed down his throat, please, just make it stop.

The now roaring werewolf twirled around and caught his eye. It snarled, just for effect, then gathered itself and tensed and leaped and...

... the world stood still. Literally.

It was like standing in the middle of a snapshot. The trees were frozen mid-sway, the werewolf was frozen mid-jump, it's jaws in the middle of opening, teeth on display, tongue dangling like a puppy and eyes bubbling with bloodthirsty triumph and killer instinct. A nauseating distance away, Selina was frozen in the middle of attempting to climb down the bleeding tree trunk, her eyes wild and mouth opening in what would probably be some very impressive profanity.

No. Not frozen, James realized with ice in his stomach and dirt in his mouth, not exactly... Not entirely...

Selina's body was shaking.

It was small, sort of twitchy, almost like a blur that made her silhouette distort strangely, assuming new angles and curves and angles again. As James continued to watch, Selina flickered out of sight once, then twice.

Gasping for breath, James reached for her with a trembling hand.

The hand twitched and then blurred slightly at the edges before returning to normal.

What's happening to us? he thought and took a deep breath that scorched the inside of his lungs.

Don't be an idiot, his Maddy-voice whispered back. You know what is happening. Or at least, you can guess.

James breathed and thought about it for a minute that lasted inside a split-second of time.

Time is unraveling, he thought. We're being erased.

Yes, Maddy told him flippantly. It turns out Lady Time doesn't like it when the other kids mess around in her sandbox. What a bitch.

As if to underline her point, the full moon that hung frozen in the sky flickered and was replaced by the sun, then an empty sky, then the moon again. The world around James shuddered. It twisted, blurred, ripped, melted, reformed, then melted again. There was infinity and eternity and the beginning and the end, and the world was made of a thousand stars that spelled out a name in an ancient tongue, and there was fire and snow and everything in between.

I'm looking at time, James thought with a sudden surge of tranquility. I could go mad by looking at this. Everything is chaos... and everything is order. This is eternity.

It's... beautiful.

And in the middle of all the stars that hung in the sky and the black holes and the strings that connected them all, in the middle of all the minutes-seconds-years-millenia that made the world, there was a crack.

There was a crack, and it whispered, it whispered with multiple voices at the same time, all blurring together, blurring all together, and running around, around, around in circles.

You knew I was coming... it whispered. Someone told you I was coming...

You can't change the past. The timestream won't allow it, it whispered. It's voice(s) screaming, whispering, shrieking, begging, coming faster and faster now, just snippets of conversation adrift in time.

He meant to create a device that could manipulate time and space, creating a time vortex...

Everything that happened will always happened. Has always happened... Look around, see sunsets rise...

We are the descendants, we are the chosen ones. Grandfather will rise once more... Circles within circles...

... the world is breaking... creating a time vortex... it's always meant to happen...

... the ghost is coming to find you... reddest red of reddest sky...

... is tearing the fabric of time and space, we are on the edge of discovering...

... a rubber band. The rubber band stretched a little when James disrupted the normal flow of time and more so when we sent the other two back. It's at its limit. It's only a matter of time before it snaps, and...

... circle, circle, circle...

A time vortex does not bend time... it breaks it.

Oh, James thought and was no more.

A/N: Hello. Yes, I know, it's been a while. No excuse for this one, fellas. Bet you were surprised I updated.

So, our adventure is coming towards an end. The next few chapters are going to be pretty strange, and I mean Strange with a capital letter S. Honestly, I have no idea what my brain is doing right now, because it's pretty wacky. Anyway, you'll probably need the cliff notes/explanations, which is what this little bit down here is for. Feel free to ask lots of questions.

So... Right. What happened?

Well, the fabric of time and space is unraveling, creating huge time disturbances. Right now, time is basically repeating itself, like a bad song on replay, only its in slightly different versions because I get bored writing the same things over and over again. Poor James is having a rough day. Anyway, hopefully this shit will be explained in the next chapter.

Probably.

Or not.

But whatever. Cookies and hugs to everyone.

/A.C