Chapter 469: Kariel's Time Reversal
Though Hermione’s Time-Turner was undoubtedly easier to handle, Kariel had never considered using it—until now.
Perhaps it was because Hermione, in Gryffindor, was often isolated by most of her classmates, making him feel a strange kinship.
Or perhaps it was jealousy toward Wade, a resentment that had lingered since the moment he first arrived at Hogwarts, where his original goal had been Wade himself—though even after changing his aim, he never thought to switch targets.
But now, with no better option, even the faintest traces of sympathy and kindness felt unnecessary.
As the Auror chuckled at the sight of the unfortunate students, Kariel offered a casual greeting, his expression calm:
“Hermione, you didn’t go to Hogsmeade today?”
“I meant to,” Hermione replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion, dark circles beneath her eyes. She glanced curiously at the tall adult wizard beside Kariel, her gaze flickering toward her classmate.
“I heard you invited Wade over to your home. Why are you back so early?”
“Something came up,” Kariel said vaguely, his voice trembling slightly as he lowered his head, feigning sorrow. “I… I’m leaving Hogwarts. I need to pack my things from the dormitory…”
He spoke as if he were voluntarily withdrawing from school. The Auror studied the young criminal for a moment, then looked at the clearly well-behaved girl beside him. With a quiet kindness, he chose not to expose the lie.
Hermione stepped forward, concerned. “What happened? Did you run into trouble?”
Kariel shook his head, refusing to elaborate. His voice cracked with fragile desperation. “Could you do me a favor, Hermione? Padma’s sister borrowed a book from me—probably left it in the dorm. Could you help me find it? After this… I won’t have another chance to return to school.”
“Of course,” Hermione said without hesitation. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, waved her wand to clean ink stains from her robes, and turned to follow Kariel toward the common room.
“Is it Eternal End? A book on time travel?” Kariel casually mentioned.
“Oh, absolutely,” Hermione replied. “It’s by Asimov. I read it when I was seven.”
“But I don’t remember Padma’s sister having it.”
“Maybe she put it away,” Kariel said. “You might have to look around…”
“Sure thing.”
Auror: …Didn’t he say he wanted to take a keepsake from his parents? Keepsakes aren’t usually loaned out.
Then again… maybe he just wanted more time with someone he liked.
And after all, he only has one chance to pack up. Wanting to take everything with him… it’s not entirely unreasonable.
The Auror shut his mouth, silently trailing behind them.
At the Gryffindor entrance, the Fat Lady in her pink dress demanded, “Password?”
“Lion’s Roar,” Hermione said.
The portrait swung open.
The common room entrance was a small hole behind the painting—barely wide enough for one person. Kariel stepped back naturally, letting Hermione go first, then followed after her.
The Auror was about to squeeze through last when the portrait suddenly snapped shut.
“You’re not a Gryffindor student,” the Fat Lady said, squinting down at him. “What do you want?”
“I’m an Auror from the Ministry of Magic,” the Auror began, then paused mid-sentence, realizing he was arguing with a painting. He gave a weary shake of his head. “Right… password’s Lion’s Roar, isn’t it? Open the door.”
“Fine,” the Fat Lady grumbled. She reluctantly slid open, and the Auror scrambled through just as the common room filled with a few younger students, who sprang up from their sofas, staring in confusion at the unfamiliar adult wizard.
The Auror’s eyes darted around. He didn’t see Kariel right away—and immediately felt a chill.
Then he spotted her: a brown-haired girl slumped in an armchair, her head resting on the table as if asleep.
His face drained of color.
…
One minute earlier.
Kariel’s line of sight was slightly lower than Hermione’s. As soon as he crawled through the hole, he saw it—Hermione’s wand, casually shoved into the side pocket of her Hogwarts robes. Like most wizard robes, the outer pocket was long and narrow, easily swallowing a wand up to a dozen inches long.
Most students in school didn’t think about protecting their wands.
But Kariel had trained in the Organization. He’d mastered dozens of stealthy tricks.
In a flash, he reached out—without warning, without hesitation—and stole her wand, all while she remained completely unaware.
Hermione kept walking. “I remember Padma’s sister traded books with Harry. I’ll ask him if she knows where that book is…”
“I’m sorry, Hermione.”
From behind, Kariel pointed the wand at her back and whispered, “Stupefy!”
Hermione collapsed silently. Kariel caught her before she hit the ground, gently lowering her into the armchair. Then, with swift, careful fingers, he reached up and removed the golden chain from around her neck—the one he’d long coveted.
As he slipped the Time-Turner around his own neck, his entire body trembled with excitement.
He watched the hole behind them slowly open—and without delay, he twisted the golden hourglass, just as Hermione had done.
He turned it twice.
Time reversed at lightning speed. In an instant, Kariel found himself back exactly two hours earlier.
The students heading to Hogsmeade had already left. Lower-year students were still in bed. The common room was empty—no one else around.
Kariel didn’t hesitate. He sprinted up the stairs, burst into the boys’ dormitory, and tore through Harry’s cabinet and the boxes beneath his bed.
He found what he needed quickly—Invisibility Cloak and Firebolt.
He’d heard of the Invisibility Cloak from Harry’s stories, but the real thing was… less impressive than imagined.
His body vanished from sight, yes—but his voice, his scent, remained.
A voice with no body? That could raise suspicion. Especially in a place like Hogwarts.
Dumbledore, for instance.
Or even a House-elf.
Kariel folded the cloak neatly and stuffed it into his backpack. Then he wrapped the Firebolt in an old bedsheet, making it look like nothing more than a plain broomstick.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and crawled back through the hole. As he hurried down the corridor, he prayed not to be noticed by Dumbledore—then suddenly, a strange, icy wind brushed the back of his neck, making his skin crawl.
Kariel flinched, leapt backward, and instinctively bared his two sharp fangs.
He turned.
It was Peeves—floating right behind him, blowing air into his neck.
The poltergeist burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Ohhh, you jumped! Priceless!”
After a moment, Kariel’s heartbeat slowed. He narrowed his eyes and asked, “Peeves. Is this all the fun you need? Just a little scare?”
Peeves’ grin vanished. He stared at Kariel, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean? You wanna see what I really can do?”
“No,” Kariel said, flashing a mischievous smile—exactly like Peeves’. “I’ve got a big plan. One that’ll make the whole school go crazy. Dumbledore’ll be pulling his hair out. Want in?”
“Hah! What prank could possibly mess with Dumbledore?” Peeves cackled. “I’m in! What’s the plan?”
Kariel’s heart pounded. He lowered his voice. “Can’t tell you yet—wouldn’t work if I did. Just help me with one small task… Two hours from now, right here—draw Professor McGonagall away.”
Peeves’ eyes lit up. He loved chaos, loved watching people panic. Within seconds, he’d accepted the mission and bounced off, giggling all the way.
Kariel watched the ghost vanish into the shadows. For the first time, he felt the true weight of time’s wheel turning.
It was as if everything he did now was destined to lead to the moment two hours ahead.
If he’d gone back to the time when Majer Byerd lied to his parents…
Or even to the moment his family left the airport…
Could he really rewrite all that tragedy?
Would he finally be able to save them both?
He bit his lip so hard it bled.
He didn’t know where he was going—only that his feet carried him forward, as if guided by fate.
Filch had just returned from his patrol. He’d chased couples hiding in secluded corners, given two students detention for cleaning, and now felt satisfied enough to rest.
Mrs. Norris, tail high, stalked beside him. She spotted Kariel pacing nervously by the door and gave a sharp “Mew!” to warn her master.
“Kariel Johnson?” Filch squinted, suspicion in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced at his office door, worried the Gryffindor—or his accomplice—might sneak in and wreck something.
“I just saw something, Mr. Filch,” Kariel said, voice urgent. “A few Slytherin boys—they dragged a younger girl into the restroom!”
“What?!” Filch’s eyes widened. His breath quickened. He clenched his fists. “Which ones? Where?”
“Crabbe, Crabbe, Monte… and Flint,” Kariel lied, tossing out names of students Filch despised. “They were near the dungeon classroom, close to the Potion Ingredients room. But I heard them say they’d move it to the common room—safer…”
Filch dropped his cane and bolted forward. “After all these years! This is the worst kind of behavior! I’ll hang them! Expel every last one!”
Kariel hurried after him, raising his voice. “Mr. Filch! Mr. Filch—shouldn’t we… report this to Professor Snape first?”
Filch paused. His expression flickered. After a moment, he nodded reluctantly. “You’re right.”
He wanted to catch them himself—but he knew he couldn’t enter Slytherin’s common room. And if the students got angry? He couldn’t fight magic.
He turned and sprinted toward Snape’s office.
Kariel slowed his pace, letting distance grow between them. Then he stopped behind a corner, watching as Filch pounded on the door.
Moments later, the two charged toward the restroom. Snape’s black robes flared like a shadow of death.
Kariel exhaled deeply. Even if he wasn’t caught by the Auror, he wouldn’t be able to return to school.
A tiny pang of regret flickered—then vanished.
He dashed into Snape’s office, tearing through shelves, cabinets, drawers.
Africa Tree Snake Skin. Unicorn Tail Hair. Dragon Blood. Mandragora Root. Basilisk Scale. Basilisk Fang. Phoenix Feather.
Snape’s collection was priceless. And then—there it was.
A small crystal vial: Polyjuice Potion.
Kariel snatched it and fled.
No one came after him. Snape and Filch were too busy chasing phantoms in the Slytherin dungeons.
The corridor was empty. Kariel sprinted into an empty classroom, twisted the hourglass once—then turned it again.
Time reversed by one more hour.
Now, Filch was at the castle’s main gate, checking students preparing to go to Hogsmeade. Outside, the grassy fields were alive with groups of students heading toward the village.
Kariel stood at the window, watching from afar—there, in the distance, were his own silhouette and Wade’s.
He stayed silent for a moment. Then, slipping into a secret passage near the kitchen—rumored to be known only to the Weasley Twins—he slipped inside.
He didn’t care that Filch knew about it. That was the point.
Once inside, Kariel finally let out a breath. He donned Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, mounted the Firebolt, and sped through the narrow tunnel, racing to escape the school’s boundaries.
He emerged behind the Three Broomsticks Inn.
He turned the hourglass twice—again.
The total reversal now stood at five hours—the maximum safe limit for a Time-Turner.
Dawn still draped Hogsmeade in a soft mist. The village was silent. Only a few windows glowed with yellow light.
Kariel cast a directional charm. The Firebolt surged forward, its speed climbing to the absolute limit in seconds.
The sky stretched endlessly. But his destination? It lay in two places.
Before leaving Britain, his home had been Bristol.
Afterward—his father vanished. His mother was sent to a sanatorium in Carlisle.
With the Firebolt’s speed, it would take two hours at best, four and a half at worst, to reach either city.
Kariel let the broomfly—both cities were in roughly the same direction. He wrestled with the choice in silence.
Save both parents—this one fragile chance…
Or choose the safer path—save his mother, at least?
His hand trembled around the wand. His eyes darted between the clouds and the distant ground, as if searching for an answer that didn’t exist.
In his mind, words from books echoed coldly:
“Time-Turners cannot alter known history. Attempts to change the past result in unforeseen consequences.”
“Long reversals lead to the user’s death… or even collapse of the timeline. Five hours is the maximum allowed.”
As the Firebolt approached Carlisle, its speed slowed.
Kariel knew.
Intuition had already chosen.
He lowered the broomstick and landed outside the sanatorium.
With the Invisibility Cloak, no staff, no patient, noticed him.
He searched the patient records, the death register. Then he saw her—on a photograph. A woman, gaunt and frail, her face etched with suffering.
It was his mother.
He took a deep breath. Raised his wand. Placed it on the Time-Turner.
The hourglass spun—faster and faster, becoming a blur.
The world dissolved into streaks of light. Kariel felt like the only real thing in a sea of motion.
He closed his eyes.
He didn’t look back.
Only when the spinning slowed and he heard a voice nearby—soft, human, speaking—did he open his eyes.
A doctor flipped through a file, talking to a nurse in white uniform, walking past him.
Kariel moved down the long corridor, peering through each window.
At last—there she was.
A thin, broken figure, lying in a hospital bed, eyes closed. Her face, once round and full, was now hollow. Her arms were skeletal. The marks of years of torment were clear.
He gripped the doorframe, his lips trembling. His throat tightened.
He couldn’t speak.
He couldn’t say “Mom.”
Tears fell—silent, heavy, endless.
(End of Chapter)
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