Lost in Time

Prologue

August 15th, 1992- The Burrow

Twelve year old Harry Potter ducked into the living room of the Weasleys' house, avoiding Ginny because of her annoying and obvious crush on him, and avoiding Ron because he was complaining about the twins. This room was rarely used by the Weasleys, with a formal table, nicer couches than the other room, and nicely framed wizarding photographs on tables. Everything looked a little bit old-fashioned and dusty in a way that seemed almost permanent, a common quality in antiques.

Something about a frame in the corner caught his eye—hidden behind several things on the cluttered-but-tidy table. It looked very old. He reached behind the other photographs and picked it up. It looked like his father, or a grown up version of himself. He was sitting with a woman who, though red haired, didn't look like his mother. If anything, the woman looked like what he imagined an older version of Ginny would look like—flame red hair and brown eyes, a soft, gently freckled face. She wore a tightly laced corset gown, with layers of crinoline. The man that looked like him stood behind her sitting form, one hand on her shoulder. He was looking fondly at her, an expression of deep love in his eyes. He wore an old fashioned waist-coat and trousers. Both moved around a little, but the figures seemed mostly content where they were.

"Ah, Harry. There you are." Mrs. Weasley was behind him, bustling into the room with her wand in hand. "Ron is looking for you. Oh, you've found that portrait. Our ancestors. One of Arthur's many times great aunts, and her husband, and one of your uncles. Hadrian Potter and Genevieve Weasley. She was actually the last female born into the Weasley line. Until Ginny. That was the seventeenth century, I believe. They didn't have children. Disappeared without a trace about a year after they married."

"Oh," Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

"We named Ginny after her, actually. Or similarly, anyway. Ginevra, instead of Genevieve."

Harry still didn't know what to say. Mrs. Weasley plucked the portrait from his hands and gently set it back on the table before shooing him out of the room. "I doubt that you're interested in a seventeenth century love story," she said cheerfully. "Being a teenage boy and all. Run along and play Quidditch with Ron and the twins, they said they needed another player."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry finally said, following her out of the room.

Harry soon forgot entirely about Hadrian and Genevieve, instead preferring to do what teenage boys did. Sure, he was interested in his family, but they were so far back that they were barely related to him anyway. In fact, the girl who looked like Ginny wasn't related to him at all. And Hadrian was just an ancestor lost in time, and one that had never even had children.

May 17th, 1996- Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic

Harry split off from Neville, heading back into the time room. He could have sworn that he saw Ginny back there. And she was—she had come in from another angle, a different door. She was alone.

"Gin," he said panting. "Where's Luna?"

"I lost her. I thought she was with me, but." Ginny cut off and eyed the time turners. "Harry, what's happening?" The dust that had come out of the broken time turners was flying up into the air. Dolohov, his head still stuck in a cycle of baby to adult, choked on the dust completely and passed out, and in enveloped Harry and Ginny.

"Should we run?" Harry asked doubtfully, unsure what was happening.

"Probably," Ginny agreed apprehensively, turning to the door. But they were too late. The sand swept around them in a never-ending wind, catching Dolohov's unconscious form as well. They were both lifted off the ground in the wind. Harry reached for Ginny a moment too late, and they were pulled away from each other into the howling abyss.