Rule 18

Polyjuice? Dad's hair? Clearly Jr was the cause of all of this, and Thaor didn't like it. What the bloody hell is going on here. One second I'm drawing a mustache on Doyle's portrait, do you know how hard it is to draw a mustache on a moving portrait? The next, I'm here, and not a ghost. Thaor said, anger and fear both building in him.

He was confused, how was he alive, and what had junior done? What is this polyjuice business, and what are you and junior up to? Thaor asked, when suddenly, a thought popped into his head.

The only explanation, was, Jr had used polyjuice to become him, and go back somehow, and prevent Sr from dying. But if that were the case, the present would be totally changed, Robert would still be ill, possibly dead by now.

We need Robert, we need him now. he said, walking inside and grabbing one of the wands he had made and hidden in Michael's living room. Rule 55: Always have a spare. He sent his patronus to find Robert, and to get him to Michael's house immediately.

Michael watched, not saying a word. To say he was confused would have been a gross understatement. He looked like he was alive, he said he was alive. He acted like he was alive, but that negated Dumbledore's rule that no one came back from the dead. The patronus, though, was Thaor's. Definitely.


Robert saw the patronus, and it cause him great concern.  No one had that patronus, not quite like that one.  What the hell was going on? He apparated at once to Michael's.  


Arriving, he saw two things, well--three, that surprised him. Thaor. Obviously solid, not spectral.  And, twin babies, eating blueberries. What was Thaor doing here, and who the heck had decided to trust Michael with not just one baby but two? Someone clearly had turned the wizarding world upside down and shaken all the "weird" to the surface.

"Okay,..." he said slowly, frowning, eyes fixed on Thaor. "No one comes back from the dead. No one. Not even you. I know you died, and so do you. That only leaves one possible answer, then. You've altered time to avoid it. What were you thinking?"


The implications of anyone altering the time continuum were immense, and, therefore it was absolutely forbidden. It wasn't something he had thought Thaor would ever have risked for himself. The consequences were far too great for that. So what then was the reason he'd tinker with it?

Thaor stared at Robert for what seemed like eternity before he could force words out of his mouth. He knew he had done some crazy things in the past, but he never thought Robert, one of his best friends, no, one of the only people he considered family, would even consider the possibility that he would alter time to save his own life.

I had nothing to do with this! Here I was minding my own business, trying to draw a mustache on Doyle's portrait, and then bam, here I am at Michael's, very much alive, and very angry. It took me ages to figure out how to get the mustache on DufasDoyle as he was moving about, angry that I'd attempt such a thing. he said, the anger obvious in his voice.

He knows more than me, apparently Jr had gotten polyjuice from him. I called you here immediately when I realized someone had altered with time. I had to make sure you weren't cursed again, or worse. We need to get to the bottom of this, but I'm as clueless as you. he said.

The quicker we sort this out, the quicker we stop any potential catastrophic damage to the universe, and the quicker I can get back to my mustache drawing.

"He got polyjuice from you, Michael?" Robert asked.


"Yeah. Dropped in, asked for a bottle of polyjuice, I got it and left again. And thats all there was to it," Michael shrugged. "Didn't want to be stopped, that much was more than obvious."


Robert groaned, trying not to jump to conclusions, but it seemed to be glaringly obvious. 


"I'll be right back," Robert said. "Give me a few minutes." He pointed down at the babies. "Whose are those and what do they have to do with this?"


"They've got nothing to do with this, in particular. Do they even remotely look like him?" Michael pointed to Thaor.


"You've got a point," Robert said. "You may have to delay your artwork, Thaor. In the meantime you two make yourselves useful and try baby bottles for the kids. Surely, Thaor, you remember how that works, don't you? Michael doesn't have a clue." Robert apparated out again.

Michael looked at Thaor.  He was having a hard time absorbing that, first, Thaor was alive. And, at the moment, it was equally impossible to visualize the man had ever held a baby bottle or a diaper in his entire life. Unlikely Elldir had those skills. Very unlikely.

How did you end up with two babies Michael? I don't take you for the babysitting type. Thaor said, taking the baby bottles from Snidely as he returned from the store.

He took the bottles into the kitchen and filled them with milk, returned to the living room, picked up both babies, and proceeded to feed them. I know a thing or two. he said looking at Michael.

What do you make of all of this? he asked his old friend, surely Michael knew more about dealings in the world of the living at this point and time than Thaor did. All he worried about these days was what prank to pull next.

"Marriage law," Michael replied. "I'm sure you must have heard. Seventh years last year were ordered to marry and procreate or face Azkaban like the rest of us. Babies having babies.


"Truthfully I'd have probably faced Azkaban, but the ministry made 'appropriate' matches, and she honestly was a lovely lady.  Didn't know her all that well, but, we did the whole marriage and procreating thing to keep the dementors away.


"Month nine, and she buggars off, leaving me to not know if she or my child is alive. I get a message a couple hours ago calling me to the Three Broomsticks, where these two are shoved into my hands, and...how do you know how to do that, anyway?"


He accio'd a bottle of firewhiskey and poured himself a glass. "Care for a glass?" he offered.


He thought about Thaor's question. "I think your son was determine to figure out what exactly happened to you. He's been working on that a long time. I thought he just wanted answers, but maybe its possible he had it in his head to find a way to bring you back. At any rate, its probably good you didn't disfigure Edgar Doyle. Khaat liked him, even though he was a snarky, sarcastic buggar. I don't know what she saw in him or in Vincent Majere either one, but she likes odd birds like that."

Glad I was dead for that bit of tom foolery. Thaor said with a slight chuckle. Just because I didn't win the parent of the year award, doesn't mean I don't know how to be one. he said, he knew Michael hadn't seen him handle babies before, so he took no offense to it.

He set the babies down, and after ensuring they were able to hold their own bottles, took Michael up on his offer for firewhisky. To life. he said, somewhat sarcastically, somewhat serious. He wasn't sure how, or why, he was brought back; but he was surely going to make the most of it until they sorted it all out.

I'm an odd bird, and she didn't like me. he said with a grin. Doyle was a tosser, and he was putting up a good fight. It was all harmless fun.

"Now, that's not entirely true," Michael said. "She liked you well enough until you went all weird. That bit she didn't like so much. And, at the time, she was a bit miffed that you were trying to off her father. Did tend to bring out the worst in her."


He watched Thaor handle the babies smoothly. He didn't know if he'd be able to do that as effortlessly. 


"I presume you handle diapers just as well, do you?" Okay, so there was no way that wasn't going to sound like a flat out bribe to do the dirty work--literally. But when it came to being out of his element, this was about as far as Michael could envision being.


"I suppose there's no firewhiskey that's worth a crap on that side of things, is there?" Michael said. "Perhaps I shant go, then. I'll stay around long enough to frustrate the crap out of my sons by saddling them with being a leathery old fossil."


"You already are an old fossil," Robert said, apparating back in. He had a handful of manila ministry files with him, along with a canvas messenger bag. "Pour me one of those, would you?" he motioned to the firewhiskey. Sitting down, he opened one of the files.

"Alright," Robert said, "I'm looking at your autopsy...Male, caucasian, age..blah, blah..Wait. Its says there's a mole on your...you don't have a mole there."  He looked at Thaor. "There are a couple of tiny anomalies in the identifying marks. Here. Take a look. I'll look at the list of personal effects."

She must know by now that I didn't try to kill Robert. I mean, I did, but it wasn't my fault. Thaor responded, rather defensive. He let out a small chuckle, he wasn't quite sure why he was defending himself about Khaat liking him. That's neither here or there. She's like a daughter to me. he said, still laughing at himself.

There isn't enough firewhiskey in the world to convince me to change their diapers for you, I'll sit back and laugh as you figure it out. he said with a smile.

I could care less about the no firewhiskey, it's the lack of tobacco that got me. he said, looking towards the bookshelf where Michael usually held a cigarette box. Speaking of, do you happen to have any? he asked.

Thaor took the papers from Robert and began to look them over. It was missing his scars, and Robert was right, he didn't have a mole on his left buttocks. We will get back to how you know I don't have my mole on my left cheek in a minute, first off, it's missing all my scars, like the one on my chest I got 6th year when we thought it'd be fun to joust on broom... His heart sank, and his stomach felt as though it was going to shoot through his brain. Junior did, however have a mole on his left buttocks.

Thaor clutched his chest, it felt as though it were ready to burst any second. Tears began to stream from his eyes uncontrollably as the realization of what had happened .

Robert was reading through the personal effects. There it was. A time turner, found with the body. He didn't feel like stating the obvious. Nor did he particularly feel like now was the time to tell Thaor that they had figured out who had cursed him.  That just wasn't something that Thaor needed to know. Not now, maybe not ever.

Michael knew the implications just as well.  Thaor had been cursed, and that curse had resulted in his death.  However, with time "unwound," and with Thaor here, it make it damned near impossible to pin the charges on the man responsible, even knowing what they did. As near as Michael could figure, he was going to get away with it. No one wanted that, but it certainly was going to be harder to prove, under the circumstances.


"He brought you back for a reason," Robert suggested quietly. "I don't claim to know what that reason is, but I don't think either of you do anything without good reason.  Hopefully if there reasons, other than family ties, that he decided to take that risk, I'd like to know why. And i presume you do too."