Chapter 293: The Past Cannot Be Changed
Under the effect of the snakewood wand, the magic originally used to protect the camp had now transformed into an immensely powerful defensive spell.
A shimmering blue barrier surrounded the three of them, blocking repeated waves of red, green, and white light. At the same time, it prevented one deadly strike after another from landing.
"Lisa, Sirius, are you alright?" Phineas finally had a moment to turn and ask about the others' condition.
Sirius was breathing heavily, unable to respond verbally, but nodded to signal that he was still standing.
Lisa, however, frowned and glared at Phineas. "Master! Why are you here? Do you not understand how dangerous this is?"
Phineas was taken aback, struggling to find the words to explain. How could he possibly tell her that, according to the original timeline, she would die in this very attack, Sirius would be gravely injured and unconscious, and he—Phineas—was unwilling to accept that future? That he had broken time itself by using a Time-Turner to come back and try to save them?
Of course, he couldn't say any of that. There were strict rules governing the use of Time-Turners. Most crucial of all: never meet your past self, and never reveal to anyone that you've traveled from the future.
These rules weren't arbitrary; they had been compiled over decades by those who had used Time-Turners in the past and suffered for breaking them. If one encountered their past self, the likely result was mistaken identity—especially if one assumed Polyjuice Potion was involved—and an immediate duel, potentially fatal. If either version died, the entire timeline could collapse, as both selves were ultimately one and the same.
And revealing to others that you're from the future was equally perilous. If someone killed their future self, it wouldn't cause their present self to vanish immediately, but death would be guaranteed at the moment they were supposed to travel through time. Such a loophole could be exploited by enemies looking to bypass otherwise insurmountable protections.
There was another issue too: when people learned about their own future, they often tried to change it. That disruption could shatter the established timeline, triggering paradoxes, catastrophes, or worse. Even those who tried not to change anything often caused irreversible alterations simply by existing in the past.
Yet, despite all these warnings, everyone thought they'd be the one to succeed. That the past could be changed—if they just tried hard enough.
That was what had brought Phineas here today.
Since he couldn't reveal the truth, Phineas had to fabricate a story.
"Lucius got wind of Sirius's plan to ambush him—he must've heard from his old Death Eater connections. He passed the info to Puff, and Puff warned me. Time was tight. I couldn't summon reinforcements, so I had to come alone."
Lisa's frown deepened. "So, you chose to come here alone, knowing how dangerous it would be?"
Phineas nodded hesitantly. Lisa was clearly furious. He immediately regretted how poorly he'd constructed the lie. Why hadn't he said something less reckless? Now she was sure to scold him afterward.
Before he could respond, the shimmering blue shield protecting them shattered—it had absorbed as much damage as it could handle.
"We'll talk later!" Phineas shouted. He raised his wand and sent a bolt of white-hot magic toward an approaching enemy, slicing the wizard cleanly in half.
Phineas avoided using the Killing Curse unless absolutely necessary.
Lisa, however, had no such hesitation. She wasn't old enough to be burdened by the concerns of legendary wizards. She didn't need to worry about soul purity or her future reputation. She cast Killing Curses freely, her red lips whispering Avada Kedavra again and again. Her spells were precise and lethal.
Sirius, by contrast, fought with elegance. His combat style resembled a wizard's duel: clean, controlled, and almost theatrical. The downside, of course, was reduced lethality. Modern wizard duels banned most truly dangerous spells, and his style reflected that tradition.
Still, disarming spells, stunning spells, and clever counters proved effective enough in his hands.
As the battle raged on, the three of them grew increasingly synchronized—covering each other, intercepting attacks, and dispatching enemies with growing precision. They managed to deflect fatal spells and overwhelm their opponents.
But the numbers were against them.
Even with flawless coordination, they were badly outnumbered. Worse, magical and physical stamina were finite. They were only human. Sooner or later, they'd tire. The only question was whether they'd win before that happened—or collapse after.
Sadly, fortune wasn't on their side. Voldemort had clearly summoned every remaining Death Eater in Britain to ambush Sirius. Though some cowards fled, far too many remained.
Phineas couldn't afford large-scale spells; the battlefield was too chaotic. He had to rely on targeted attacks, which consumed more magic for each individual opponent.
Lisa and Sirius were in the same boat. Their reserves were nearly depleted.
With fatigue setting in, they couldn't avoid every hit. Minor spells landed. Pain accumulated.
Phineas realized, with grim understanding, how Lisa and Sirius had come to be covered in scars in the original timeline. They hadn't been careless—they'd been cornered, exhausted, out of options.
He sighed and intercepted a green bolt aimed at Sirius.
"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered as he brought down another opponent with Phineas's help. "How many are there?!"
Phineas shook his head. "It feels like every last Death Eater in the country showed up."
"Master, behind you!"
Lisa's cry made Phineas spin around just in time to see her intercept a cutting curse meant for him.
The spell struck her full-force. Her body was cleaved from the waist. Blood poured onto the ground.
"Lisa!" Phineas shouted, his eyes wide in horror.
He obliterated the attacking wizard in a blast of rage-fueled magic.
"How are you?!" he gasped, voice trembling.
Lisa's reply was faint but defiant. "I'm fine, Master… I'm a werewolf. I can heal. It'll take time, but I won't die—not yet."
Phineas knew she was lying to reassure him. A normal witch would already be dead. Lisa's werewolf blood gave her a chance—but only if she received urgent care.
He tightened his grip on his wand, refusing to give up.
"Avada Kedavra!" he roared, striking down another foe.
"Sirius! We need to finish this—Lisa won't last much longer!"
"Understood!" Sirius replied, finally abandoning his graceful style for brute efficiency. He began mowing down enemies alongside Phineas. Lisa, too weak to fight, supported them by casting Shield Charms. Though her shields couldn't block the Killing Curse, they reduced the need for evasive movement—preserving their stamina.
Time ticked on.
The tide began to turn. From dozens of enemies, they were down to a handful.
The alley was now littered with corpses—Death Eaters, werewolves, Black family allies. The ground was slick with blood.
Sirius was finally knocked unconscious by a powerful blast. Phineas noticed magical traces—evidence of Apparition nearby. Perhaps Aurors? Or the Order of the Phoenix?
He couldn't be sure. But they didn't feel like enemies.
Glancing at Lisa—barely conscious—and the unconscious Sirius, Phineas sighed.
Even if reinforcements had arrived, he had to finish the job before leaving.
He was a time traveler, after all. Meeting Lisa and Sirius had already stretched the limits of risk. He couldn't afford to run into members of the Order or the Ministry.
Determined, Phineas launched into a final flurry of attacks.
Invisible sword strikes and green Killing Curses slashed through the air, leaving enemies nowhere to run.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The last enemy dropped.
Phineas breathed deeply. The danger was over—for now.
He looked down at Lisa with gratitude, gently picked up the wand she had dropped, and Apparated away.
This time, Lisa would live. Her injuries were severe, and she might never fight again—but she had survived. Phineas took solace in that.
But just as he vanished, he glimpsed one final, horrifying sight.
A Death Eater—one he thought he'd killed with a Shadowless Strike—had risen weakly. Barely clinging to life, he raised his wand.
A white spell—not the Killing Curse—fired from the wand, aimed not at Sirius, but Lisa.
Phineas's eyes widened.
The spell hit.
Lisa's head was severed from her body.
And then Phineas was gone—Apparated away.
All of it had occurred in mere seconds. And through that narrow window between destinations, Phineas had seen Lisa die.
So that was it. That's how it had happened.
He landed at Number 12 Grimmauld Place and collapsed to the floor in despair.
Lisa had died to protect him. Her death had come because he'd failed to finish off that last Death Eater. He had gone back in time, broken every rule… and changed nothing.
Lisa was still dead.
Sirius was still unconscious.
What was the point of it all?
Was it true? That the past truly couldn't be changed?
Then I'll go back again, he thought grimly.
Reaching into his pocket for the Time-Turner—his only lifeline—he found it gone.
Panic surged through him. But then, clarity.
Wait… it wasn't stolen. I haven't retrieved it yet.
Of course. The Time-Turner wasn't stolen from the Ministry by his future self—it was this Phineas who would soon go to the Ministry, steal it, and hide it in the Chamber of Secrets, along with a note in the Room of Requirement.
It was a closed loop.
Everything had already happened—and would happen—exactly as it was meant to.
Understanding this, Phineas brushed aside his sorrow. He still had one more chance.
Lisa didn't have to die.
Not if he moved quickly.
But now wasn't the time. Soon, the news of Lisa and Sirius would reach Hogwarts. Phineas would know. He'd gather his people, begin his revenge.
And in the chaos of that time, Phineas would slip into the Ministry… and take the Time-Turner.
He knew he would succeed—he was living proof of it.
The only mystery was how.
For now, all he could do was wait. Heal. Watch. Prepare.
Because this time, he would change the past.