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The Precious Seconds He Had To Spare


The most mysterious
Thing about time
Is that we never know
Where it is
That we will leave it...



Derek Bell could not find his wand.

The dark of the woods sent shadows of trees over the bracken, which he shoved his fingers through, desperately searching. The light from the spells being shot between Bilius Weasley and Lucius Malfoy lit up the ground in flashes - red then white then red again - sparks hissing as the magic struck the ground all around him in showers.

And then he spotted it. Several paces away, stuck between a rock and a tree root. It was way over there...

“TIME TO GO! TIME TO GO!” A woman with wild black curls pranced across the field toward Malfoy and Bilius. She was singing the words, skipping along, her face flush with the excitement that danced in her eyes. “Quickly.” She added, and she grinned. “Finish him off.”

“I hate to cut our fun short,” Lucius Malfoy panted, sneering at Bilius, “But the Dark Lord beckons.” And he struck Bilius particularly hard with a spell, giving Bilius pause as he had to hold a protego for a moment as the magic blasted him - white sparks showered from the spell’s energy hitting the protective field…

Derek needed his wand. He needed his wand if he was going to protect Bilius!

He scrambled, trying to get to his feet, slipping in the bracken, hitting one knee, and struggling to get up, the wand one direction - Bilius the other -

Behind him, there was a CRACK! as Lucius Malfoy disapparated.

And the dark haired woman sighed heavily and raised her wand.

AVADA KEDAVRA!” she screamed.

It was instinct.

Derek Bell leaped forward, his arms splayed as he jumped toward Bilius, jumped between the jet of green light and his best mate and he closed his eyes as time slowed down so much that it very nearly stopped and he stood, arms out, staring into the end of that jet of green light coming at him…

Derek… Belll,” a voice called, whispering through the trees.

Derek looked up.

Precious seconds, Derek,” the voice whispered.

And there was a jerk behind his naval and a flash of colour and Derek Bell landed on his stomach in the middle of a beach filled with pebbles, aquamarine water licking at his toes.

He lay there a second, disoriented.

Had the spell struck him? Was he dead? Was this heaven?

He stared about.

There was a clearing of a voice before him and Derek looked up and, surprised, he found an old man, hunched and wrinkled, with milky-white eyes and a cane of twisted tree roots that spiraled about themselves in great knots. Derek struggled to sit up and he stared up at the man without tearing his gaze away.

There was something very strangely familiar about this man. As though Derek had seen him before somewhere…

“Good evening Derek,” the man said. His voice was cracked and raspy now, not like the whispered breeze that had carried it through the woods. “I don’t suppose you recall me, do you, Mr. Bell?”

Derek shook his head.

The old man leaned against his cane and extended his arm out to offer Derek a help up and Derek hesitantly took it and allowed the man to pull him to his feet. He was shockingly strong for such a frail looking person, he thought, staring at the way the old man seemed to tremble before him in that way that elderly folks often do uncontrollably. Yet the grip on his hand was strong and the old man did not let go once Derek had stood.

“Where am I?” Derek asked, wanting to wrench his hand away… yet not at the same time… There was a strange, conflicted sort of feeling to him.

“I am Kostos Mopsus,” the man replied instead, as though Derek had asked who are you, rather than where am I.

“Chuffing,” Derek answered. “Pleasure to meet you, I s’pose? How did I get here? Am I dead? Is this Heaven?” He knew from even a cursory glance about that it certainly could not be hell. It was far, far too beautiful for that. Large stone towers loomed in the background across the stone beach and water washed gently against the billion and billions of pebbles - a sea, but the calmest, most bluest sea Derek Bell had ever laid eyes upon.

Mopsus smiled. It was a strange, sad sort of smile. “We’ve met before, Mr. Bell.”

“When?” Derek asked.

“Oh -- for me, four years ago. For you -- well, I suppose it was earlier this year. October or so…” Mopsus paused. “Hogsmeade weekend. You went with Bilius Weasley and Alexander Tinnamin to the Hog’s Head Pub and you met Aberforth Dumbledore --”

“Dumbledore?”

“-- the bar tender, and spoke with him of your sister, Alice Bell, and her death. He spoke of his own sister, Ariana Dumbledore, as you drank a good deal of Fire Whiskey --”

Derek felt a pang of pain in his heart at the name of his sweet little sister, his eyes instantly filling with tears at the thought of her death - of the horror of it, as they’d stood bidding farewell to the rest of their family, standing beside the graves of their parents, and the attack… and the weight of Alice falling into his chest when she was struck, the light leaving her eyes as she screamed and Derek caught her…

He’d thought these things then, too, that night in Hogsmeade.

And he’d drank too much.

Far, far too much.

And in a daze, a confused mess of alcohol, he’d run from the pub and although Bilius and Alex had tried to go after him, he’d gotten away from them, run into the trees around the Shrieking Shack and stumbled over a root and landed on his stomach.

The world had spun so hard, his head throbbed.

Depression - darkest shades of black - had sunk through his veins and Derek Bell had closed his eyes, laying there in the bracken, and he’d taken a shaky hand and drawn his wand and pressed it to his own chin.

“Your sister paid precious seconds, to save your life that night, Mr. Bell,” Mopsus whispered.

And Derek remembered a vision he had seen, as he lay there in the dark, a vision that had taken his breath away.

Alice Bell, running over and waving her hands, knocking away the wand. She sent it falling several paces away and Derek stared up at her in surprise. “A… Alice?” he had breathed as she fell to her knees beside him and swept tears from his eyes, “Alice? Is that you, love?”

She’d stared into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Derek. He said I would die anyway,” she explained. “The seconds, they wouldn’t have saved me, they only would have prolonged the moment.” She stared at Derek’s eyes. “I chose you. I chose you. I love you.”

And she was gone.

“Alice!” he had yelled her name, his voice echoing through the trees, “Alice, come back! Alice!”

And Bilius and Alex had come through the trees…

And Derek cried, “Alice! Please!”

But she was truly gone.


Now, Derek looked up at Kostos Mopsus in fear. He had told no one of the vision. Not even Bilius and Alex. Not even Chriselda Blythe, his fiance.

He stared at Mopsus.

“Mr. Bell,” Mopsus said gently, “I met your sister years ago, Mr. Bell, you see, and she promised precious seconds to me, precious seconds that I used to save your life.” Mopsus looked Derek over a moment, and then he said, “Now I require precious seconds of you.”

Derek looked confused.

“Chriselda Blythe’s clock,” Mopsus explained, “It’s stopped and I need to restart it if she is to live.” He stared at Derek for a long moment. “Son, in the seconds you have remaining, you will knock Bilius Weasley to the ground, falling to the earth yourself, and have mere seconds to realize that the spell Bellatrix Lestrange has shot at you now has missed before she strikes a second time and kills you.”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?” his voice shook, “How do you --”

“Mopsus sees all,” the old man replied smoothly.

Derek felt his throat tighten, “But --”

Mopsus sees all,” the old man repeated.

Derek’s heart raced within his chest. “So… so I die. I die in just a few seconds?” he asked, stammering. “And… and now you’re telling me Chriselda’s going to die as well?” Tears filled Derek’s eyes. “No, Chrissy… No. Please, Mr. Mopsus, please. Don’t let Chrissy die.”

Mopsus reached out a palm and he pressed it against Derek Bell’s shoulder.

“You will die, Derek Bell, in ten seconds’ time, once you’ve been put back in your own time, that is,” Mopsus explained. “Now, Derek. You can die in ten seconds time there, or, I can take seven of those seconds… just seven precious seconds, Mr. Bell, and I can send you to save Chriselda Blythe first… and then back to your own time, where you will die in three instead of ten.” He stared into Derek’s eyes. “Either way, you die. But - in one instance, you could save the life of another.” He paused. “Another two, really.”

“I have to save Chrissy.”

Mopsus nodded, “Most noble. And quite exactly as I expected, Mr. Bell.” And he drew a gold chain from his pocket, long with a funny wheel attached to the end. “Let us go, then.”




Chriselda Blythe had run up the corridor with Bilius, Fabian, Gideon, and Dorcas. It was always them. Always them and Derek and Alex that had gotten into so much trouble together. They’d been best mates back at Hogwarts, when they’d all attended together, in the years before the twins and Dorcas had graduated, in the years before Derek had been killed, and then Alex, too. They’d all been best of mates.

It was no wonder to any that knew them that it had been that pack of kids to go to Durmstrang to rescue James Potter.

And here they were in the corridor, rushing to the office of the Headmaster, to demand assistance…

And they’d turned the corner to find Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Maryrose Jenkins, scrambling desperately for their lives down the corridor, followed by Death Eaters with flushed faces that ran after them, spells flying wildly.

Remus Lupin had fallen behind his friends and he was stumbling down the hallway, struggling to run with knees that Chriselda knew had been broken early in the year she had taught at the school. She could still remember little Remus, being magicked about on carpets and pushed along in his wheelchair by Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, and Sirius Black. He could run no faster - and ‘round the corner at the other end of the hall, the Death Eaters were spilling forth, and there was Bellatrix Lestrange - the woman who Chriselda Blythe loathed most in the world.

The woman who had killed Derek Bell.

And Bella raised her wand, staring at Remus Lupin with intent.

They all reacted as the curse spilled from Bella’s mouth.

But it was Chriselda who reacted first, and hardest, whose hatred for Bella had driven her forward with the extra spring it took to get ahead and she pushed her way before Remus Lupin and the green sparks flew toward her and --

PROTEGO!” there came a voice, a voice that sent chills down Chriselda Blythe’s spine as she fellt ot the floor, having been pushed down, and the charm shined bright above her. She stared up at him, recognizing the broad shoulders and the short cut of his blonde hair from behind, of the mole on the back of his neck where it tapered into his shoulders…

“Derek?” she asked.

And he looked down at her.

“I close you,” he said.

“Derek?” Chriselda’s eyes pooled with tears. “Derek!”

“I love you,” Derek choked.

And he was gone.

He was gone.

“NO!” Chriselda cried, “No! Derek!” and tears poured down her face…

And she felt strong arms pulling her up from the ground, heard spells being shouted all around her, saw the colorful blurs that were sparks from spells…




And Derek Bell opened his eyes. The green light from the tip of Bellatrix Lestrange wand’s still shimmered before him in the woods from the night that would be his own time to die, and there was a sound to his side and he looked and there was the old man.

Derek stared at the jet of green light. He glanced back over his shoulder at the surprised look of Bilius as he was falling backwards from the shove that Derek had given him, his face contorted in shock… Derek turned back to the sparks. He felt tears burning, threatening to fall, but he held them back, determined not to cry. He looked at Mopsus.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, “Does it hurt to die?”

“I do not know,” Mopsus replied.

“I thought you said you could see all?” Derek demanded.

Mopsus paused, then shook his head, “I have never died, Mr. Bell. But I suppose that death is simply another adventure… simply another step, another phase into which we enter. The pain of death is in the surviving, in the aftershock for those around us.”

Derek stared at the jet of light for a moment.

“Will you see to it that they are safe? Bilius and Chrissy?” he pleaded.

“I will,” Mopsus replied, “I am.”

Derek nodded. He swallowed back his nerves. “I suppose it’s time, then.”

“Yes, Mr. Bell,” Mopsus replied.

Derek’s eyes pooled officially and he choked out, “I - I’m scared, Mr. Mopsus.”

Mopsus stepped closer, “I am here, Mr. Bell. I will see you off.”

Derek asked, “You’ll stay with me, then?”

Mopsus nodded. “Until the very end,” he replied.

And there was a hiss as time returned to normal.

The sparks flew forward.

And they struck Derek in the chest full force.

And Derek Bell died that night in the bracken.

But first, he’d saved Chriselda Blythe’s life.

With the precious seconds he had to spare.