Dawn mist clung to Kamar-Taj's ancient walls as Arthur completed his morning meditation. The familiar rhythm of breath and energy flow helped center him and gradually stilled his racing thoughts from last night's events.
After, when he made his way toward the library, footsteps echoed behind him.
"Mr. Hayes."
Arthur turned to find the Ancient One approaching, her expression mildly curious. "Sorcerer Supreme."
"I heard you departed rather suddenly last evening." Her tone was casual, but her eyes missed nothing. "Emergency?"
Arthur replied "You could say that. Someone needed my help in the wizarding world."
"Ah." A knowing smile touched her lips. "Eventful night?"
"You could say that." Arthur resumed walking, the Ancient One falling into step beside him. "I saved a life. Ensured the prophesied child in the wizarding world will have at least one person who truly cares about him."
The Ancient One's eyebrow arched slightly. "Prophesied child? How intriguing."
"The wizarding world loves its prophecies. They have seers who receive visions of possible futures." Arthur's voice turned dry. "Usually delivered in the vaguest, most unhelpful format possible."
"I've heard rumors of such practitioners." She sounded genuinely curious. "Never met one personally."
"Lucky you. This particular prophecy declared a child would defeat the greatest Dark Lord of our time. Which he did—as a baby, through magic nobody understands. His mother's sacrifice, apparently."
"And now?"
"The Dark Lord returned. So naturally, everyone's pinning their hopes on this same child. Again."
They passed a group of students practicing basic shield formations. The Ancient One waited until they were out of earshot before responding.
"Considerable pressure for someone so young."
"Fifteen years old." Arthur's jaw tightened. "Never had a normal day in his life. One side trying to kill him, the other side molding him into their prophesied weapon. It's a miracle he's not completely broken."
"People become dangerously attached to prophecies." The Ancient One's voice carried centuries of experience. "They forget that the future remains fluid until it becomes the present."
"Easy to say when you have the Time Stone to verify it." Arthur couldn't keep the edge from his voice. "Everyone else gets one cryptic verse and builds their entire strategy around it. 'Oh, I can't kill the Dark Lord myself—that's the boy's destiny. Better train him to do it instead.'"
"Is that what your leadership believes?"
"Either that or senility has finally caught up with the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts." Arthur shook his head. "Though considering the state of magical Britain, it could be both."
A hint of amusement flickered in the Ancient One's eyes. "I take it that the British wizarding world's reputation is well-deserved?"
"That's putting it diplomatically. Though we'd be here all day if I started listing specific examples."
"Let's avoid that." Her tone was perfectly serious, but her eyes danced with amusement. "I find extended complaints tedious."
The conversation reminded Arthur of something. He reached into his robes and withdrew one of the Time-Turners.
"Speaking of time and destiny," he said, holding up the device, "I acquired this during last night's adventure."
The Ancient One stopped walking. Her gaze locked onto the golden hourglass with laser focus.
"May I?"
Arthur placed it in her outstretched palm. She examined it like an archaeologist studying a priceless artifact.
"Fascinating construction. What does it do?"
"Time travel. Backwards only, limited range—usually just a few hours."
"Creating alternate timelines?"
"That's what makes these unique." Arthur leaned against a pillar. "Time-Turners don't change the past. They complete it. Any actions you take were already part of history. You're just fulfilling predetermined events."
The Ancient One's expression shifted to genuine intrigue. "A closed causal loop? No branching timelines because the 'changes' already happened?"
"Exactly. Your present self just doesn't know it yet."
"Remarkable." She turned the device over, studying its mechanisms. "I've never encountered temporal magic operating on those principles. Why haven't you experimented with it?"
Arthur accepted the Time-Turner back with unusual care. "Honestly? It terrifies me."
That earned him a surprised look. "Fear isn't typically your response to new magic."
"This thing terrifies me," Arthur admitted. "There's a cardinal rule with Time-Turners—never let your past self see you, or something catastrophic occurs."
The Ancient One nodded slowly. "I can imagine several reasons for such a prohibition. If your past self sees you, the causal loop risks breaking. Your past self might attack the future version, mistaking them for an enemy. Or even if they understand the situation, now they bear the responsibility of ensuring events unfold exactly as their future knowledge dictates."
"The pressure would be enormous," Arthur agreed. "One mistake, one deviation from the predetermined path, and you create a temporal paradox."
"Which can have... unpleasant consequences," the Ancient One finished. "So why the sudden interest in temporal magic?"
Arthur tried for an innocent expression. Failed miserably. "Well, I thought with the Sorcerer Supreme's guidance, I could experiment safely. If something goes wrong, you could consult the Time Stone and determine the necessary steps to preserve the loop."
Her laugh was like silver bells. "Mr. Hayes, even I cannot guarantee safety when meddling with time."
"But you'll let me try anyway?"
"I won't stop experimentation." Her expression grew serious. "But the instant I detect any risk of paradox formation, I confiscate every Time-Turner you possess."
"Deal."
—
The next week passed in careful temporal experimentation.
Arthur discovered Time-Turners were perfect for training. He could go back several hours, portal to a distant location, and study while his past self remained at Kamar-Taj. Like having temporary clones, each pursuing different research.
Not particularly necessary at the moment, since Arthur had abundant time for his studies. But in a crisis? The ability to multiply his effective hours could prove invaluable.
The more complex aspects of temporal mechanics required delicate testing.
Tuesday morning, Arthur found a half-eaten apple on his desk. No memory of placing it there. Puzzled, he tossed it away.
That afternoon, while testing the Time-Turner, he passed Kamar-Taj's garden. A familiar apple hung from a tree. Understanding dawned. He picked it, took one bite, and carefully placed it exactly where he'd found it that morning.
The loop closed perfectly.
The most dangerous test required the Ancient One standing ready with the Eye of Agamotto.
"I'm going to deliberately encounter my past self," Arthur announced.
"Are you certain?" She already knew his answer.
Arthur made the conscious decision: in exactly one hour, he would travel back to this moment.
The instant the decision crystallized, another Arthur appeared across the courtyard.
His future self made eye contact, nodded once, and disappeared through a portal.
One hour later, Arthur followed the script precisely. Travel back. Appear. Nod. Leave.
No paradox. No universe-ending catastrophe. Just the deeply unsettling experience of being both actor and audience in a predetermined play.
After the week of testing, Arthur felt confident in his understanding of the Time-Turners' capabilities and limitations. He then stored the Time-Turners away. They were useful tools, but only for emergencies.
—
Another week passed in routine training. Arthur's mystic arts progressed steadily—his portals now opened instantly, his shields could withstand Master Lhakpa's strongest attacks. His wizarding magic remained limited but grew stronger daily.
During a particularly intense sparring session with Master Lhakpa, Arthur's concentration fractured as familiar magic sparked against his consciousness.
A monitoring charm.
Arthur's concentration shattered. Years ago, he'd given Aurora an enchanted pendant—decorative to observers, but designed to alert him if there was high magic activity around her. It would suggest she was in the middle of a magical fight and in mortal danger.
The charm had been dormant since creation.
Until now.
"Master Lhakpa, my apologies." Arthur was already moving. "Emergency."
The Master frowned. "Go. We continue tomorrow."
Arthur didn't wait for dismissal. The crack of Apparition echoed off ancient stones as he vanished.
So much for leaving the wizarding world behind, he thought grimly. Twice in two weeks.
But some connections couldn't be severed. Some debts demanded payment.
And Aurora had been the closest thing to family he'd had for seven years.
The wizarding world would have to endure his presence once more.