Chapter Seven- A Wrinkle in Time

“Write the message, Ginny.”

“Yes, Tom.”

FLASH

“Hermione, what’s going on?”

“Some Death Eaters showed up and started levitating Muggles. We have to get out of their way!”

FLASH

“They’ve been down there too long. It’s been over an hour.”

“They’ll be fine, Ginny. It’s just a task.”

“How can you be so sure? Harry! Ron!”

FLASH

“He fell through the veil, Harry. He’s gone.”

“No! Don’t say that! Sirius!”

FLASH


Footfalls behind her matched her own. Being followed in the dungeons was undoubtedly a bad thing.

“Hey!”

FLASH

“Write the message, Ginny. Good morning beautiful.”

“Yes, To- what?”

“How was your night? Mine was so wonderful-”


Ginny opened her eyes, squinting at the light that assailed her. Lily leaned over her, a grin on her face. “And I open my eyes, to see your sweet face. It’s a good morning beautiful day.”

Ginny groaned and flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. “Go away, or a sweet face is not what you’re going to be seeing.”

Lily’s grin widened, and she grabbed the pillow off Ginny’s head. “No can do, Haleigh. I have a message from
Dumbledore.”

“Tell him to go to he-”

“Language.”

“Tell him I’d appreciate him not waking me up this early in the morning.”

“It’s important,” Lily said, straightening and putting on her best ‘Dumbledore voice.’ “He said to come get you ‘with all haste, and bring Mr. Cummings as well.’”

Ginny’s hand froze in mid-grab for her pillow. Jumping out of bed with complete disregard for the pajamas she still wore, she tore down the staircase and out of the common room, bellowing at the top of her lungs. “Erik! Erik Cummings, get your bloody boxered self out of bed before I come do it for you! Don’t make me come down there; I’ll open a can of butt whoop on you! Erik!”

“Haleigh.”

Ginny whirled from her tirade to see Draco Malfoy standing a few feet behind her. “I was already on my way to get you. You stormed right by me without even noticing, but by all means continue; there might be a few heavy sleepers that you haven’t woken up yet.”

Ginny stamped her foot and grabbed his arm, setting off at a run for Dumbledore’s office. Draco had no choice but to do the same, lest he be dragged along.




“Chocolate frogs? Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans? Cockroach Cluster! Blood Lollipop!”

Draco rolled his eyes from his lounging position against the nearby wall. “Shut it, Weaselette. Some of those candies you’re shouting haven’t even been invented yet.”

Ginny looked around in mock surprise. “Weasley? Is that little boy Bill here somewhere?”

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. “Shut up.”

“No.”

“Fine, have it your way. Shut it, Adams.”

Ginny nodded approvingly.

“Hem hem.”

Professor Dumbledore was standing in the corridor beside them, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Shall we go on up?”




“So, what is it, Professor? What have you found out?”

Dumbledore seemingly ignored the question, pulling at a piece of thread hanging from the cuff of his robes.

“Professor?”

Dumbledore simply continued to fumble with the thread, pulling at it first this way, then that.

Annoyed and bored, Draco had a go at it. “Professor! What have you found?"

“This.” Dumbledore had freed the thread from his sleeve and was holding it up for inspection.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat uncomfortably. “You found a- a thread? That’s certainly. . .uh. . .interesting.”

Draco was much less circumspect. “You called us here for a thread? Good God, he’s gone mad! My father always said the man was loony, but I never suspected how early it started. I’ve half a mind to go to St. Mungo’s right now and tell them I’ve got a new patient for their psych ward.”

“Draco, shut up.”

The blond cut off mid-tirade, looking hard at Ginny, who [i]wasn’t[/i] looking at him. Rather, she was watching Dumbledore and his thread with a rather peculiar look on her face. The headmaster had brought his hands together, so that most of the thread hung loose between them.

Ginny tilted her head, brows furrowing. “I read a Muggle book once that dealt with supernatural travel. It used a thread and an ant for a diagram.”

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling merrily behind his half-moon glasses. “Very good, Miss Weasley. That book is my source as well.” He pulled the thread taut. “Suppose I had an ant on this piece of thread. How would it get from one end to the other, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “By walking along the length of the thread, I suppose. I’m sure you have a much more interesting idea, though.”

Dumbledore only nodded. “Indeed I do. Walking the length of the thread would be the obvious choice, of course, and seemingly the only one. However, if I did this, it would be a much shorter journey for the ant.” Dumbledore brought his hands together again, letting the majority of the thread hang free. “This kind of travel has always been considered impossible, but, even so, the theory was given a name: a wrinkle in time. That is how I believe you got here.”

Ginny’s frown grew deeper. “But how, Professor, and why us?”

“You will remember, Miss Weasley, that book talking about dimensions? No? Well, I’ll explain it, then. The first dimension is a straight line, the second, a square, and the third, a cube. The fourth dimension is time, and the fifth is a Tesseract- a wrinkle in time. I believe you came through the fifth dimension. I cannot say why for sure, but it had something to do with the fourth dimension as well. With the help of something of infinite importance, the fourth dimension can be meshed into the fifth.”

Draco looked at Dumbledore blankly. “What thing of infinite importance?”

Dumbledore shook his head, the twinkle leaving his eyes. “That, I cannot say for sure. My guess is there is something here in this time that concerns you two, something of great importance to your futures. I imagine you won’t be able to return to your own time until you witness this thing, but, like I said, I can only guess. I urge you to think on what I’ve said, and keep your eyes open; the smallest detail could be the key you need. You’re dismissed.”

Draco got up and headed for the door immediately, shaking his head. Ginny, however, hovered on the cusp of rising or remaining. “Um, Professor? I had a dream last night about all these terrible things that happened back in my time. I think it’s important somehow. The thing is, most of them didn’t exactly turn out terrible, but it seemed like they would. It might just be a coincidence, but somehow I don’t think so.”

Dumbledore came closer, taking the seat nearest her. “Is there a common emotion that you could easily associate with each of these memories?”

Ginny nodded. “Fear. Every time, I was just deathly afraid of what might happen, or what was happening right before my eyes. I don’t understand.”

Dumbledore sighed and stood, pacing away from her. “Unfortunately, I do.”
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