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I. late, late, late!

Chapter One:
Late, Late, Late!

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    






















Thursday,
September 1st,
1977.

    

The moon and the stars: That was what Archer Reyes was dreaming of.

     It was like he was floating in the abyss of space, completely weightless. The moon was next to him, so big and so bright against the darkness surrounding it. It was beautiful, like nothing Archer had ever seen before. He had seen the moon from Earth, obviously, but this... This was an entirely different thing. It was beautiful.

     And the stars... the stars were so close—so close he could almost touch them, his hand reaching out, reaching, reaching. And they were so close, now, closer than they had ever been, and in one desperate attempt he lunged through the air, his fingers itching to touch the stars. It was as if time had slowed down.

     Then the stars were lightyears away, no longer within his reach, getting further and further away as he floated there helplessly. But now he no longer felt weightless, instead it felt like he was falling, falling, falling through the abyss, his stomach churning with fear. The stars all around him started to fade and he was plunged into darkness.

     That was when he woke up.

     It took Archer a minute before his brain caught up with the rest of him. The harsh sunlight streaming through his bedroom window was a stark contrast to the darkness of his dream, and his eyes remained shut for a while until he dared open them, allowing them to adjust to the light. Rolling over, he hugged the sheets off his bed closer to him to preserve warmth; he didn't want to get up quite yet.

     His brown eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the other side of the room. It read half past ten. Archer stared at it for a few moments before it finally sank in. "Fuck," he said, eyes widening in panic. Then it really hit him: he only had half an hour to get to the train. And he hadn't even packed yet. "Fuck!"

     Ripping the sheets off of him, Archer stumbled out of bed, his mind running a mile a minute as he simultaneously began to get dressed whilst also trying to recall what he had to pack. He let out a groan of annoyance when his mind drew a blank, the only thing he could come up with was everything—he supposed that wasn't far from the truth, considering he'd be at Hogwarts for the entire year. Ugh. Think, Archer, think!

     "You didn't wake me up?!" Archer yelled, somewhat hysterically, his voice echoing throughout the house.

     A set of footsteps grew louder as someone walked down the hallway. Within seconds, a man appeared at the entrance of the room. He had dark brown hair that lay in curls on top of his head, and his face was unshaven. His kind eyes landed on Archer's frantic figure. This was Archer's Uncle Harvey.

     Leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, Harvey shrugged. "I figured you needed the rest."

     Archer shook his head in disagreement, but the bags under his eyes said differently. Harvey didn't comment on that.

     "I haven't even packed yet—fuck, I'm going to miss the train!"

     "You haven't packed?" Harvey said. After a few seconds of watching his nephew frantically packing, he squinted his eyes and said, "Archie, you know you're seventeen, now, right?"

     Rummaging through his sock drawer, Archer absentmindedly said, "Yeah, so?"

     "So..." Harvey drawled, rolling his eyes a little. "You can legally use magic to, you know, do things. Like packing your trunk."

     Archer stopped packing for a moment, sock in hand, his mouth forming an 'o' shape as he let out a sound of realisation. "Right," he said. "That... makes a lot of sense, actually."

     Stepping forward to ruffle Archer's hair, Harvey chuckled. "I'll leave you to it, then." He left and Archer was back to being alone. 

     His panic had reduced a little bit from the recollection that magic did in fact exist, but that help only went so far. The next step was actually locating everything... Now that was a little harder. As clothes and shoes and everything else floated around his room, folding and packing themselves into his trunk, Archer was frantically trying to find his Potions textbook.

     Fumbling around his room, simultaneously lifting up random objects to see if the textbook was there whilst also staggering on one leg as he tried to put a sock on his foot, he muttered, "Shit, shit, shit..."

     His brown eyes scanned the room frantically until they abruptly halted on something sticking out underneath his bed. His Potions textbook. "Aha!" Archer said, diving onto the floor so he could grab it easier. It had been in such a blatantly obvious place, right where he had left it many weeks prior. He supposed that he had been in such a rush that he had completely failed to see it.

     As he was hurriedly tying the laces on his shoes, completely dressed and his trunk now fully packed—well, he hoped it was... he didn't think he was forgetting anything, but considering he packed so late, he wouldn't be surprised. If he had, though, he figured that Harvey could always send it to him at a later date.

     Harvey's voice sounded from another room. "Not to rush you or anything, but you're going to be late if you don't hurry!"

     Archer nodded his head up and down ferociously, even though he knew that Harvey couldn't see him. "I know! I'm almost ready!"

     The words barely left his mouth before he was hauling his trunk from where it had been sitting on his messily-made bed and onto the floor. It sat for a moment as Archer double-checked his appearance in the mirror. He aimed to tame his tousled brown hair, but had minimal luck—it was still as messy as it had been before. Then he went over everything in his mind: Shirt? Check. Pants? Check. Shoes and socks? Check. Trunk? Check. Owl? Che—oh, shit. He'd forgotten his owl.

     He hurried over to the bird cage that sat on his desk. "Sorry, Bandit." He murmured quietly to his owl, wincing as Bandit squawked at him viciously, his brown feathers ruffling up. "Yeah, yeah, I know. We gotta leave."

     It took him less than a minute to drag his trunk and owl into the dining room. When he walked into the room, the first thing he noticed was that Harvey was sitting at the head of the reasonably small wooden table, reading the Daily Prophet with an unreadable expression plastered on his face. He looked up when his nephew entered, a smile on his face.

     Archer glanced at the clock on the wall with wide brown eyes. Ten minutes to eleven. He cursed under his breath. "It's almost eleven. I knew I should've packed last night!"

     Harvey chuckled, laughing whole-heartedly and walking over to ruffle the boy's hair. Archer swatted him away—he had just tidied it up!

     "Don't laugh!" Archer's eyes sparkled as he tried not to laugh with him. "This is a tragedy!"

     Rolling his eyes, Harvey ruffled Archer's hair again. Archer huffed, about to say something else, but was distracted by the Daily Prophet in his uncle's hand. He wondered if he should ask the same question he did every time they got the paper. After a few seconds, he decided to say it. "Anything new?"

     "More death," Harvey said, grimacing. He shook his head in despair, the mood ever so slightly turning dark. He exhaled slowly. "So... nothing new."

     Archer sighed. "I just want this to be over."

     "You and me both, Archie." All of a sudden, Harvey raised one eyebrow, staring at something behind Archer. "Are you sure you're remembering everything?"

     Archer's eyebrows knitted together in thought. He turned around to see what Harvey was staring at, and his face fell slightly, shoulders drooping. "Oh, yeah..." His voice was strained.

     It was his magical record player. To get it to play a song, all you had to do was tell it what you wanted to be played, and the record player would play it. It was pretty damn cool. He adored it with all of his heart, even though he had only acquired it that summer as a gift. How could he have forgotten it? Well, he knew how...

     "I can't believe I almost forgot it," Archer said, regaining his composure. "Thanks, Harvey."

     Since it would most definitely not fit into his trunk at its normal size, they decided to shrink it and place it in a pair of socks so that it didn't break or get lost. Archer thought that it was a splendid idea. Unless he forgot which pair of socks it was in... then he would have a problem.

     The next few minutes were blurred together in Archer's memory. He remembered apparating alongside Harvey to Kings Cross Station, weaving through the crowd of people, pulling his trunk and Bandit with him. By the time that the duo made it to the entrance of Platform 9 3/4, they had two minutes to spare, barely having time to run through the magic barrier before it closed. They were running out of time.

     Just as Archer was about to put his trunk on the train, his Uncle Harvey pulled him in for a hug. The boy didn't complain, just buried his head into Harvey's chest, hugging him back just as tight. With the war going on all around them, you just never knew what could happen. After what seemed like both forever and only a split second, Harvey pulled away. It was confusing, Archer knew. He felt like it lasted forever in the sense that Archer really had to be somewhere, and a split second in the sense that he could've held onto his uncle forever, damn the consequences.

     "Have fun this year. Don't forget to write!" Harvey reminded him.

     He nodded. "Don't worry, I will. Love you."

     Archer then hurriedly handed his trunk to the man who loaded them onto the train, weaving through teary parents who were bidding goodbye to their children. He then briefly turned around to wave one last goodbye to Harvey, before stepping onto the train just as the final horn blasted, the train slowly beginning to move along the tracks.

     He had made it, just in time.

     The brown haired boy began to make his way down the train, squeezing past people who were standing in the corridor, glancing in every compartment he went past in order to find his best friend, Dhruv. Just as he was wondering if Dhruv had even made it onto the train, considering that he could not find the boy, Archer finally stumbled upon the compartment he was in.

     "Hey!" Archer exclaimed as he slid open the glass sliding door.

     The boy looked up at the sound of his name, face brightening when he was who it was. "Archie!"

     Dhruv Haldar had been his best friend for years, since their first year at Hogwarts. Despite their differences, Archer loved Dhruv and Dhruv loved Archer. They had been there for each other through thick and thin, and Archer knew that Dhruv was someone he could always count on.

     Before long, the train had left the darkness of the station and their compartment window was sporting green hills that rolled on for miles. Despite the normally clear blue sky being a little overcast, it seemed to be a nice day outside. Brown and green flashed past in the form of trees, too fast for Archer to catch even a glimpse.

     Dhruv suddenly spoke up, and Archer looked away from the window and turned his head towards his best friend.

     "How was your summer, Archie?"

     Archer shrugged, hesitating for a moment. "It was, um... pretty uneventful, really. Didn't do much."

     He was lying through his teeth.

     Dhruv frowned. "You should've said something—you could've come down to the beach with me." A smirk suddenly appeared on his face. He nudged Archer, slyly. "There were a lot of girls."

     Archer rolled his eyes.

     Meanwhile, the compartment door slid open and the lady operating the food trolley greeted them with a kind smile. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

     Archer stood up, hand fumbling through his pockets for spare change. Aha! Despite having only packed that morning, it appeared the universe was in his favour for once. "Just some Droobles, please." He handed her the exact amount of money for the packet of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, his absolute favourite.

     Then he looked up. His mistake.

     In the compartment across from them was Sirius Black. Of course. He had to be right there—just Archer's luck. Perhaps the universe wasn't in his favour after all. Sirius was sitting there, throwing his head back with laughter as he joked around with the other occupants of the compartment: James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Archer didn't have much to do with those three, but Sirius on the other hand... well. That was different.

     He could faintly hear Dhruv's voice behind him—"Speaking of, when are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend?"—but he took no notice of his best friend's words, his gaze unable to be swayed from the dark-haired boy in the opposite compartment. His heart went bumpity-bump-bump, and he swallowed with difficulty. Then, Sirius looked up, likely about to buy something off of the trolley, and his cloudy grey eyes connected with Archer's brown ones.

     The brown haired boy immediately averted his gaze, sitting back down with a small sigh, shoulders tense. However, Dhruv had followed his gaze and was staring at the group of four in the other compartment with a frown. Archer held his breath—had Dhruv noticed what had just happened?

     "I can't believe that James Potter got Head Boy!"

     Archer exhaled in quiet relief. Thankfully, Dhruv hadn't seen the exchange between himself and Sirius. He was also grateful that Dhruv seemed to have forgotten his previous words about getting a girlfriend—something that Archer had no interest in... not that Dhruv knew that, of course.

     Archer shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking. Maybe he sees some sort of potential in Potter." He paused, staring at Dhruv with a newfound wonderment. "Wait a second—you didn't want Head Boy, did you?"

     Dhruv paused, before shaking his head. "Nah, not really..."

     However nonchalant he appeared to be, Archer could see the hesitation in his eyes. "Hey, at least you got Quidditch captain, right? That's pretty freaking cool."

     Dhruv brightened up, almost as though he had forgotten he was this year's Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. "Right!"

     Archer shook his head in amusement.

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

Wednesday,
July 6th,
1977.

    

Archer hummed softly to the tune of Twist and Shout by The Beatles as he walked along the sidewalk next to the vacant road.

     A large green hedge was to his left, stretching all the way down the street. It was a metre or so taller than him, and it shaded him from the harsh heat of the sun. Behind this overwhelming bush was a house—his house. And if one looked beyond the bush, they would see that the house was a cute little cottage of sorts, with lush green lawns and a large oak tree which towered over everything. It was a one-story house, but the roof was rather high, forming a point at the top, with a slightly wonky chimney coming out of it.

     Above, the sky was a peaceful blue, with fluffy white clouds scattered across the sky like paint on a canvas. Despite there being a light breeze, the summer air still warmed Archer from head to toe.

     The seventeen-year-old tightened his grip on the grocery bag in his hand. His arm started to ache, so he swapped hands. His Uncle Harvey had asked him to buy some sort of food for dinner while he was at work, so, naturally, Archer brought ice-cream. Plus noodles and pasta sauce, because he figured that Harvey wouldn't find ice-cream for dinner as nutritional as he did.

     Archer lived with Harvey because his parents had split years ago and moved to two different sides of the world, both loving work more than each other—and by extension, their only son, Archer. Harvey took him in and they'd been together ever since. Archer loved Harvey like he was his own father, and if he could go back in time, he wouldn't change a single thing.

     As Archer rounded the corner, onto the street where the gate to his house was, he collided harshly into a firm body, the brute force causing him to fall on the solid pavement with a thump.

     "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry."

     The brown-haired boy looked up at his attacker—OK, not attacker... culprit, perhaps? He wasn't sure—with a small frown. But his irritated stance vanished almost instantly when he located the source of his vexation, his brown eyes meeting grey ones in a manner that shocked Archer into silence.

     The figure standing above him was a boy in his late teens. He had dark, unruly hair that was a bit longer than Archer's. It fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance. His eyes sparkled with recognition. "Wait... Arch?"

     Archer blinked in shock. "Sirius?! What—?" His words died and befuddlement overcame him.

     Sirius chuckled in amazement. "Holy shit! I can't believe this."

     "You and me both," Archer said, though a smile started to appear on his face. Him and Sirius had been inseparable when they were younger, with both of their parents being good friends. Unfortunately, over time their friendship had faded away until they were nothing but strangers passing each other in the hallways.

     Archer was still lying on the sidewalk with a rather perplexed expression on his face. Sirius suddenly remembered this, and extended a hand to pull him up. Archer stared at it for a moment before he took it. Sirius pulled him up with ease, his firm grip never faltering.

     "You okay?" Sirius asked, a guilty expression on his face.

     "Yeah, I'm totally fine..." Archer said, before letting out a bewildered laugh. "What are you doing?"

     Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Talking to you, it seems."

     Archer rolled his eyes. "No, what are you doing in this neighbourhood?"

     "I, uh, live here, now," Sirius said, shrugging.

     "You do?" Archer exclaimed. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. "Wait—does that mean you got away from your family? Or... are they here too?" He wasn't sure if this was the right setting to talk about any of that, but the words had slipped out before he could think twice about it.

     "I ran away a few years ago, actually." Rather than being annoyed at Archer for bringing the subject up, Sirius seemed relieved—whether that be because he had been meaning to tell Archer or just because the mere thought of leaving that wretched place made him relieved, Archer wasn't sure. "Lived at James' last year, but then my Uncle Alphard died, and he left me a heap of money, so I bought my own place."

     "I'm really happy for you, Sirius," Archer said genuinely. "You deserve it."

     Sirius smiled at Archer, a soft smile at first that slowly morphed into a grin. "God, I can't believe it's been so long. And I can't believe you live around here, too—that's some crazy coincidence!"

     "I know, right!" Archer couldn't help but grin back. It felt so surreal to talk to Sirius again after all these years. At Hogwarts, they were both in different Houses and didn't share many classes together—and even if they did, they both had different sets of friends, so it was kind of hard to have a one-on-one conversation... especially when, you know, they were there to learn, too, so they had to pay attention—so they rarely had any reason to talk to one another at all.

     Despite this weird feeling Archer was experiencing, he knew it stemmed from the fact that he was so relieved to be able to talk to Sirius again. Archer knew it was mostly his fault that they had lost contact over the years, and there wasn't much he could do about that now. He had wanted to get back in touch with him, but as they got older and the years went on, it became harder and harder for Archer to pluck up the courage to do it. It was just... easier, he supposed, to leave it alone.

     But now, face to face, Archer decided he was wrong. He didn't want to leave it alone—he wanted Sirius in his life. It was like the universe was giving him a second chance. And with them now living in the same neighbourhood, he was sure that they'd run into each other again soon. He just hoped that... Well, what was the proverb? Oh, right! Absence made the heart grow fonder... Archer hoped that was the case.

     After a few moments of comfortable yet tense silence, Archer sighed and said, "I should probably get back home—" He picked up the grocery bag from the pavement and gestured to it, "—I wouldn't want the ice-cream to melt..."

     "Yeah," Sirius said. Archer started to move past Sirius, but before he could get far, Sirius added, "Wait, Arch!"

     Archer turned around expectantly.

     Sirius said, "Do you wanna, maybe... hang out sometime?"

     Trying to hold in his grin, Archer answered almost immediately. "Definitely."

     The two boys stood there, facing each other, both with stupid boyish grins on their faces. Neither wanted to be the first to walk away. Eventually, Archer waved a reluctant goodbye in Sirius' direction. Sirius winked at him, and Archer felt his cheeks warm.

     Turning so his back was once again facing Sirius, Archer resisted the urge to turn around again.

     It was like the whole world had finally started to make sense again.

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

Thursday,
September 1st,
1977.

    

By the time that Dumbledore had finished his annual start of year speech, Archer was totally ready for bed. He had caught himself falling asleep during dinner, and several times his head had almost fallen into his potatoes.

     Call him rude, if you want, but that was the seventh time he had to listen to the Headmaster, Dumbledore, go on and on and on about the start of year notices... which were the exact same every single year. Well, except for the different Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher—that always changed. This year... Archer was able to remember that it was a man called Professor Kingston.

     Both Archer and Dhruv slowly trudged up the stairs, plagued with exhaustion, following the rest of their house wearily. Excited first years sped towards the Ravenclaw tower, chattering excitedly. Dhruv grumbled, "How can they have that much energy? It's insane."

     Archer hummed in agreement, stifling a yawn.

     Before long, they were in their dormitory, which was shared between just the two of them, as they were the only boys in their year who got sorted into Ravenclaw—and that could've turned out horribly if they hated each other, but, thankfully, they did not.

     After a bit, their trunks were mostly unpacked, and Dhruv had started to fall asleep on his bed closest to the door. Archer, on the other hand, had only one more thing left to unpack. He had left it to last, whether that be because of coincidence or because he didn't want to think about it and the memories it held, he wasn't sure.

     Archer gently pulled out a pair of socks from his trunk, and grabbed the minuscule record player that was stashed carefully within it. Reaching for his wand, he enlarged it with a simple spell. Now, the record player stood next to his four poster-bed. He wasn't sure if he liked it in the position, since it was partly covered by the dark blue drapes that hung from his bed, but he knew it was there, and that was all that mattered. Perhaps he would move it later.

     Sparing one last look at it for the night, Archer got into his comfortable bed, resting his head on the pillow tiredly. And after listening to the steady, rhythmic snores from Dhruv, he was able to fall into a deep sleep.

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

    

Authors Note!!!

welcome to cruel summer!!! i'm so happy to finally have this fic back on my profile, it's been months (...oops)! for those who read this before i took it down, it's undergone some changes which you might have noticed; i'd recommend re-reading right from the beginning so you don't miss any of them!

as you probably noticed, pretty much all of the chapters in this fic will follow the same format of having a few "now" scenes as well as a "summer" scene (which will be in italics, so it's more obvious too)... and more stuff will be revealed as time goes on... so yeah!!!

hope you all enjoy this book <3 don't forget to vote and comment, it truly means the world to me when you do!

    

    

word count: 4200
22.08.2021

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