Chapter 1: A Study in Time, pt. 1

From the future two shall come

To learn greatness, power and wisdom

To teach, learn and grow

And darkness' reign overthrow

The snake and eagle, once and always best friends

Shall together stick until the very, bitter, end

Joined by the daughter of badger and lion,

Together, the three, overthrow the corrupt régime

September, 2013:

The first weekend of term, Harry did what he and Hermione always did when they wanted to know something- he went to the library to find out more. In this case, it was Time Turners, as Hermione had been using one to get to all her classes thus far; or, at least, Harry was pretty sure that was the case. Of course, a Harry raised by Sherlock Holmes probably was closer to correct whilst guessing than a regular person would be with copious amounts of research. The sound of someone coming up behind him did not cause him to look up, engrossed as he was in his research. This particular book was written in Latin, a language he had some knowledge of, but would need to concentrate to be able to comprehend in such an academic manner. He jumped when someone tapped his shoulder impatiently.

"Harry! What are you doing?" It was Hermione. Harry sighed, looking at her, whilst trying in vain to hide that he was researching Time Turners. She would figure it out soon enough- in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and-

"Why are you researching Time Turners?" Just on time, as he knew it would be, and now he needs to answer, without giving away that his father broke the oath of secrecy to him regarding the top student and the time turner. And he already knew his mouth would probably run away with him, and he would somehow let it slip that he's been checking her age each morning without her knowledge or consent.

"Hermione, I know you try to hide that you're using one, but, honestly, you ought to have one with a greater time capacity. After all, one as observant as myself would notice you slipping away. I was raised by the Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. They also happen to have raised you for a while as well! Surely you did not think you could get away with hiding that you are aging slightly more rapidly than others in our year, somehow finding time to sleep, and somehow transporting yourself across the castle to the library when I know I left the Common Room before you could have possibly done so, and took the shortest route. Add in that you consistently disappear right before or after a class period that you have scheduled double, and that you seem to be about as tired and irritable as those who sleep one night out of three, and I know that you've been time travelling. Add in the necklace you were tucking under your robes the night of the Welcoming Feast, and the fact that a Time Turner is the only Ministry-approved form of time travel, and you find that all the clues lead to you using a Time Turner to get to classes."

"And you are telling me all this because?"

"You need to use it to get some more sleep, as well as take me along with you. I would love to be able to take Arithmancy- it looks completely fascinating- but I don't have time between taking Runes, Care for Magical Creatures, and the music lessons Sherlock insists upon. I would take Divination, but I doubt I have the Inner Eye. I could add onto the classes I'm taking with Muggle Studies, or use the rest of the time each day to self-study for Muggle tests. I asked Professor McGonagall, but she said that only the top student in each year is given a Time Turner, although, if I can convince you to let me join you, I could do so." Some of Harry's first words finally were processed, and Hermione glared at him, much to his chagrin. He hoped that saying the things he knew would slip out later first, and then giving her an information overload, would be enough to keep her from remembering. Alas, it was not to be.

"How do you know I am aging more quickly? We've been here less than a week."

"You would not believe how exact Sherlock had me be with finding the ages of cadavers; both at the time of death, and post-mortem, or, rather, how long before it was preserved, as different solutions react differently with different genes, causing some cadavers to decompose at a different rate. It is simply fascinating, even though it was also rather difficult. By the end of the summer, we had puzzled out a way to do it with magic."

"That was this summer?"

"Yeah, after I blew up Aunt Marge while I was staying with her and Dudley, and then ran away to London, for Uncle Mycroft to find me. It was my punishment for letting my temper get the better of me, losing control, for the first time in over five years, might I add, and for leaving too much evidence of magic behind."

"You had magical control at 8? I thought we were working on it together until our Hogwarts letters came? And besides, I would wager that you do sometimes lose control. I imagine the first and second years would agree, if not most of our year mates."

"Nah, 7; Sherlock reckons that's a magical number, and that most people can't achieve complete control after that age. Personally, I reckon it is 17, the time they say everyone comes into their magical inheritance. He just was training us in wandless magic together. Well, and obviously Runes, but I do hope you realized that. Besides, you lose control sometimes as well. I get it, though; sometimes it just leaks out when you really don't want it to. For example, I did not want to inflate Dudley's Aunt this summer, but she was going on and on about what a criminal my father was, and I just couldn't hold it in anymore." Hermione gawked at him.

"Well, I doubt you actually have magical control already; last year, and this summer, proved that losing your temper causes you to still lose control. I doubt I do, all the time either. I mean, even your father can't completely control his magic! And that's kind of stupid; it's accepted that human magical maturity happens at 16 for males, and 17 for females. I read about it in that book Dad got me for my birthday last year. But you do realize that the number seven does factor into it, right? Just not in any direct way? Anyone over a seven on the Newtonian Index of Magic can do some wandless magic; that is only about 10% of the magical population in modern times. At the time Hogwarts was founded, it is thought to have been was closer to 45% of the magical population had a 6 or 7, and about half and half of the remainders were over or under. I found a spell in here last year to find out a person's NIM, and wrote it down in my notebook."

Now it was Harry's turn to gawk. Sherlock had never mentioned anything about anything like that, and he would often get into discussions (others would call them debates or lectures) with Harry over magical theory and the workings of a person's magic. A long moment of silence ensued. Finally, he asked, "Could I see it sometime?"

"Sure- let me find it." She ruffled through the pages quickly, scanning the words on the page faster than Harry had ever seen her do. Add several productivity charms to that list of study aides... I wonder if John knows she's so stressed...And it's not even the end of the first month... Soon, she had found the page, and showed it to Harry.

"It needs someone else to cast it. As you can see from the date, it was right before the basilisk that I found it, and so I never got a chance to try to cast it with anyone. I can't believe I forgot about it this summer, although I bet Sherlock would be able to find it easily if he really wanted you to know something like that." Harry scowled, and then pulled out his wand to start, looking somewhat defiant. There probably was some sort of reason that Sherlock had never mentioned it to him before, especially considering it was not specialized knowledge if Hermione found it in a book from her father. That reasoning made Harry all the more convinced that he had to try it.

"I'll try it with you, and then you can try it with me. It looks relatively simple, but does seem to have multiple parts."

Indeed, it did; first, the subject had to light a lumos without using any words. Both Harry and Hermione had read a book about wordless magic, and how thinking the spell would often work, if you start trying nonverbal spells by your third or fourth year of education. They had started practicing two years before, and both could make a rather strong glow nonverbally. Harry lit his wand with ease, noticing that it was slightly brighter than it had been the year before.

Next, Hermione had to cast a spell at the light. There was no wand movement, just a simple chançon conte while she stared at the light on the end of Harry's wand. The light brightened, then quickly flashed from yellow, to orange, to red, to purple, and to blue, before finally stopping on acid green. Hermione looked through her notes, finally finding the light green near the bottom of her list (the list stopped on white, although there was a note that really powerful wizards could make it cycle through the colours, and then do so again, indicating the degree of "upper 10" they were.).

"Light green is an upper 8, although reading through this, it seems as though most people under 16 or 17 can't make it go past a lower 7. Those that can reach the 7 tend to reach a 10 at their magical maturity."

They did the same process with their roles reversed, and found that Hermione had a lower eight, with a green about the same colour as Harry's eyes.

After lunch, they went back to the library to try to figure out how to change the Time Turner to reach back a day at a time. They had actually almost figured it out when it was time for dinner; Sherlock had started them on Runes when Hermione first moved in with them. Sherlock had a strange love for Runes, despite Mrs. Hudson's annoyance with him putting them all over the flat to keep them safer. It had worked, however, as no one was able to get in with foul intent toward Harry. One Death Eater had even broken his spine, and was permanently paralyzed, because he had tried to come in through the window while Harry slept. In any case, Runes were a topic that Sherlock declared never had unimportant information that needed to be deleted, so he personally saw to their education in them. If there were no age or formal educational requirements to taking OWLs or NEWTs, they would probably have been able to sit them their first day at Hogwarts. Both were adept at researching them, and could easily put them together into a cohesive whole.

They agreed they would edit the Runes the next day, and then departed for some quiet time, which Harry had convinced Hermione she needed. Harry knew he would probably also need that quiet time. He looked forward to sleeping in the next morning, as it was a Sunday.

At the crack of dawn, Harry realized his plans were probably shot, as Roger Davies came in and woke him to train. Thinking this is just like last year, Harry almost didn't notice that the Holmes family/British Government had "anonymously" donated seven Firebolts to each of the Hogwarts Quidditch teams. Indeed, not only had he done so (and Harry was beginning to think it was Sherlock, with Mycroft's help, as Mycroft wouldn't think to do it by himself, but Sherlock would blow his cover by doing so. Contrary to popular belief, he could not keep anything a secret. The number of hints he had left for John, all around London, was rather intense), but it seemed they had asked they be custom made for each of the positions. The Keeper's broom had a little K on it, and seemed to be a bit more stable. The Chasers had a C on each broom, and each was more agile while remaining rather fast. The Beaters also had rather fast brooms (with a B on them), with a little more stability, which was probably necessary while being a Beater. The Seeker's broom was the fastest of the brooms by far (if not for the way the speed would affect him, Harry probably could outfly the snitch), but lost a large bit of the stability to keep the agility.

Davies insisted that they each practice half the time on a broom not suited to their position, and then swapped with Harry. Practice continued to be gruelling, even once Harry had his own broom back.

Exhausted, but ready to help Hermione, Harry dashed back up to the Ravenclaw Tower to shower after practice was over, seeing John along the way (although both he and Hermione were confused as to why he was willing to go by, pretty much, Wolf-raised-Man Werewolf). John's birth name was Remus John Lupin, but he had legally changed it in the Muggle World to distance himself from wizardkind. He still went by R.J. Lupin in the Wizarding World, which both Harry and Hermione found annoying, as his name practically screamed "I'm a werewolf, shun me!". Harry had taken to calling him John, or Professor Watson, much to his annoyance. With Hermione's backing, John was able to get Harry to stop calling him "Doctor Watson"; John felt he couldn't complain much when Harry at least used the correct titles, if not the correct name.

John seemed annoyed yet that Harry persisted in calling him Professor Watson, but Harry, in true Holmes fashion, ignored that annoyance in favour of prattling on about a book he had discovered that was written by a Muggleborn who used magic in her work as a detective. He was so excited that he almost slipped and said that his father would probably love to meet this detective, as she was probably not very dull, like the detectives his father knew. Hermione winced every time Harry called him Professor Watson, knowing her father hoped to forget that Harry was the son of three of his closest friends, in his mind all deceased. He could not do that when Harry ignored social convention, like Sherlock, while showcasing his excitement at anything (he would tap the side of his leg, like Lily), or would mess up his hair during points of exasperation (like James, his adopted father).

Together, they all got some late breakfast, Harry and Hermione maintained they would study all day, grabbed some extra food for lunch, and then the teens headed off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where they began to work on the Time Turner. They made sure to keep all notes in a muggle notebook, written in pencil, so that it would not run if the pages got wet. They finished it late that night, and snuck back to the Common Room, deciding they would use it the next evening. The worst that could happen, in Harry's mind, was that they ended up a couple days too far back, but, as he had not seen himself, he highly doubted they had done that. If it did not work, after they removed the modifications, the Time Turner could go back up to eight hours, leading to them being able to repeat just the day, although doing that every day would wear it out too much, and lead to telling calluses (not that every hour wouldn't!). Bringing both of them back in time daily or hourly would be too much strain on the delicate object, without their modifications.

That next day passed quickly, and soon they found themselves in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom again, slipping the necklace over Harry's head. Harry had just lugged their trunks to the bathroom, as Hermione was serving a detention. The trunks were necessary because Hermione worried that they could go back in time hundreds of years (Harry assured her he doubted they had that much power, to which she gave him a dubious look). They picked up the trunks, looked at each other, and then, Hermione spun the Time Turner one turn. It quickly spun out of her control, spinning so rapidly that she moved her hand away to avoid getting a cut from it.

Everything around them blurred, and they could see everything going backwards quickly. Hermione whimpered when it didn't stop after a few moments, as she was used to. It sped up to the point they could see the window flashing like a strobe light. As time slowed again, the window disappeared, and they found themselves above a grassy knoll, with the light around them flickering and changing.

Harry felt rather nauseous and lightheaded. Hermione looked slightly green.

Finally, the flickers slowed, and then stopped. Hermione, chancing a look over at Harry, saw that he was swaying, while she, herself, was sure the world was spinning around her. As one, they fell close to 200 feet, feeling, as they bounced, the last few dregs of their cores draining, and then collapsed onto the ground, fighting unconsciousness until it finally overwhelmed them.

So- this is the first chapter of a story that I've been working on for quite a while. If anyone has any ideas for a better title or summary, please let me know! I'd love some reviews on this story; hopefully, I will have the next chapter out pretty quickly. This chapter was one of the shortest, but it is a prologue/1st chapter rolled into one (but still almost 3,000 words).

And, obviously, if I am posting this here, I evidently do not own anything created by JKR or anyone affiliated with the BBC. I'll let you know if that changes.